Page 48 of After Everything
"My dad, actually. He had a health scare… turned out to be nothing serious, but it reminded me that I've been putting off coming home for too long. Plus, the company I was with got acquired, and the new management was..." He made a face. "Let's just say I wasn't interested in sticking around for the corporate restructuring."
"So you came back and re-joined Sebastian's firm?"
"Yeah. They do good work, and I like the team. Smaller scale than what I was doing in Seattle, but honestly? I missed it, and I needed the change of pace." He set down his fork. "What about you? Still at Penn?"
"Officially an NP! I’m now working atRiverview Women's Health." I smiled. "I love it. Every day is different, and I actually feel like I'm making a difference instead of just putting out fires."
"That's amazing. I remember you talking about going back to school that summer we went out. You seemed so excited about it." He paused. "I'm glad it worked out."
That summer. Three years ago. We'd gone on three dates—nice dates, perfectly pleasant dates—and then he'd moved to Seattle and we'd lost touch. I'd been newly divorced, barely holding it together, definitely not ready for anything serious.
Now here we were. Both of us older, more settled, ready to try again.
"So am I," I said. "It was the right call."
The waiter appeared to refill our wine glasses and ask about dessert. Connor ordered the tiramisu to share. I didn't object.
The conversation flowed easily. Connor asked good questions, listened to my answers, shared his own stories without dominating. He was funny without trying too hard.
He was exactly the kind of man I should want.
And I did want this. Wanted the ease of it, the comfort of sitting across from someone who made me laugh and didn't have any baggage connected to the worst period of my life. Connor was a clean slate. A fresh start. Someone who'd never lied to me or betrayed me or made me question my worth.
Someone safe.
The tiramisu arrived. Connor pushed the plate toward the center of the table and handed me a fork.
"Ladies first."
I took a bite. It was good: rich, creamy, the perfect balance of coffee and sweetness. "Oh, that's dangerous."
"Right?" Connor took his own bite and nodded appreciatively. "We might need to order a second one."
I laughed. "Let's see if we survive this one first."
The door to the restaurant opened, letting in a gust of cool evening air. I glanced up automatically, all those years of nursinghaving me ready to track movement, assess situations, stay aware of my surroundings.
And froze.
David.
He was standing just inside the doorway, scanning the restaurant, clearly looking for someone. He was dressed casually—dark jeans, a gray button-down, nothing fancy. His hair was slightly windswept, like he'd walked here instead of driving.
Then his eyes found me.
I watched the recognition hit. Watched him go still, his expression shifting from neutral to something I couldn't quite read. Surprise, maybe. Or discomfort.
We stared at each other for a beat too long.
Connor noticed. He glanced over his shoulder, following my gaze, then looked back at me. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I forced myself to look away from David, back to Connor. "Sorry. Just… someone I know."
David was moving now, walking toward the bar at the back of the restaurant. There was another man waiting there; older,maybe mid-forties, wearing a leather jacket. They greeted each other with a handshake, then a brief hug.
Not a date, then. Meeting a friend.
I picked up my fork and took another bite of tiramisu, trying to focus on Connor, on the conversation we'd been having, on the date that had been going so well.
