Page 35 of After Everything
Then David took a step forward. Stopped. He looked like he was deciding whether to speak or walk away.
"Emma," he said finally. His voice was quieter than I remembered. "Hi."
I shifted the canvas bag to my other arm. "David. Hi."
The silence stretched between us. People walked past on either side. A woman with a stroller, two teenagers onskateboards, life continuing like nothing significant was happening. Which, I guess, it wasn't.
"You look..." He cleared his throat. "You look really good. How are you?"
"I'm well. Busy." I kept my voice neutral and polite. The tone you'd use with an old coworker you ran into at the grocery store.
His eyes flicked to the badge clipped to my bag. The one I always forgot to take off after work.
Riverview Women's Health
Emma Peterson, NP-C.
"You finished the program." It wasn't quite a question.
"Two years ago. I'm working in women's health now." I didn't elaborate. Didn't ask how he knew I'd applied.
"That's…" He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I remembered. "That's really great, Emma. You always deserved that. I'm glad you…" He stopped himself. "I'm glad things worked out."
I nodded. What was I supposed to say tothat? Thank you? I did it without you? It worked out because you left?
"I have my own practice now," he said, filling the awkward silence. "Small stuff. Family law, mostly. Some pro bono work." He shifted his laptop bag. "It's not... it's nothing like before, but it's honest work. I'm trying to…" He stopped again, seeming to realize he was oversharing. "Anyway. Yeah."
"That's good," I said. And meant it, sort of. It was good that he'd landed somewhere, and that he wasn't completely destroyed. I could be generous enough to want that for him.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Jess: You still coming? I'm already here and I ordered the spring rolls because I have NO IMPULSE CONTROL.
I smiled despite myself.
"I actually have dinner plans," I said, putting my phone away. "I should go."
Something flickered across David's face.Disappointment, maybe. Or just acknowledgement.
"Of course. Yeah." He took a step back. "It was good to see you, Emma. Really."
"Take care, David."
I walked past him, my canvas bag bumping against my hip, the flowers poking out of the top. I didn't look back. Didn't need to.
Behind me, I heard him say something else. Maybe my name, maybe just my imagination… but I kept walking.
My heart was beating faster by the time I reached my car.
It wasn’t panic. It wasn’t that sick, twisting feeling I'd had for months after he left. Just... adrenaline. The physical response to an unexpected encounter. My body reacting before my brain could catch up and say,It's fine. You're fine.
I loaded the groceries into my trunk and sat in the driver's seat for a moment, hands on the steering wheel, breathing.
David.
Three years. Three years since I'd kicked him out, since I'd signed the divorce papers,since I'd blocked his number and rebuilt my entire life from scratch. And now he was just... there. Walking out of a coffee shop. Looking tired and smaller somehow, like the man I'd married had been hollowed out and replaced with someone who just wore his face.
I'd imagined running into him before. Played out the scenario in my head during those first brutal months. What I'd say. How I'd react. Whether I'd be cold or angry or devastatingly indifferent.
