Page 28 of After Everything
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted...
I read the words three times before they sank in.
Accepted.
I was going back to school. I was advancing my career. I was reclaiming the ambition I'd buried for eight years while I supported someone else's partnership dreams.
My phone was in my hand before I consciously decided to call.
"Emma?" Jess answered on the second ring. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." I was smiling so hard my face hurt. "I got in."
"The NP program?"
"I got in, Jess."
She screamed. Actual screaming. "Oh my god! Emma! When do you start?"
"Fallsemester. August."
"We're celebrating. Tonight. I'm texting everyone right now. No excuses."
"Jess—"
"Nope. You're going out. You're drinking champagne. You're letting people be happy for you." She paused. "I'm so fucking proud of you."
My throat tightened. "Thank you. For everything."
"Stop it, you're going to make me cry at work." She sniffled. "Okay, eight PM. That wine bar on Walnut. The one with the good bruschetta. I'll round up the usual suspects. Wear something cute."
She hung up before I could protest.
I looked around my apartment. At the running shoes by the door. The acceptance letter on the counter. The tulips outside my window. The life I was building, piece by piece, without anyone's help or approval or sacrifice.
Four months ago, I'd been crying on a bathroom floor.
Now I was here.
And I was happy.
The wine barwas packed by the time I arrived at 8:15.
I'd changed three times before settling on the black wrap dress, the one Jess had forced me to buy two weeks ago when we'd gone shopping and I'd tried to walk past it. "You need something that isn't scrubs or yoga pants," she'd insisted. "Something that makes you feel like a person who exists outside of work."
She'd been right. The dress hugged my waist, showed off the definition in my arms and legs that two months of running had brought back. I'd paired it with heeled ankle boots that made me almost six feet tall and a leather jacket I'd found at a consignment shop. My hair was down, loose waves that I'd actually taken time to style instead of just throwing into a ponytail.
I looked good. I felt good. And for the first time in eight years, I wasn't dressing for anyone but myself.
I spotted Jess immediately. She was at a high-top table near the back, waving botharms like she was guiding in a plane. The table was already full.
"There she is!" Jess pulled me into a hug that nearly knocked me over. "The future Nurse Practitioner!"
Karen from the ICU raised her glass. "Congratulations, Emma. You're going to be fantastic."
"Cheers to that," Amy from respiratory added, clinking her wine glass against Karen's.
Sofia, Sebastian's wife and Jess’s sister, slid a glass of champagne toward me. "I already ordered a bottle. No arguments."
