Page 86 of After Everything
"I do." He didn't look away. "More than Ican explain. When I see you work, the way you handle patients, the way you document everything perfectly, the way you fight for people who can't fight for themselves—" He stopped himself. "I'm in awe of you, Emma. Of who you've become."
The room felt smaller suddenly. Too warm. The fluorescent lights too bright.
"You said my name," I said quietly. "Earlier. In the hallway."
"I know. I'm sorry. I should have?—"
"No." I cut him off. "I just mean... you've been so careful to call me Ms. Peterson. For months. And tonight you said Emma."
"Does it bother you?"
I should have said yes. Should have reinforced the boundaries, kept things professional, maintained the distance that had kept me safe.
"No," I said instead. "It doesn't bother me."
Something shifted in his expression. Hope, maybe. Or fear. I wasn't sure which.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
I nodded.
"That day at the coffee shop. You saidyou didn't know what we were now." He set down his pen, gave me his full attention. "Have you figured it out?"
My heart was racing. "No."
"No, you haven't figured it out? Or no, you don't want to answer?"
"Both." I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup. "I don't know what we are, David. I don't know if we're colleagues who happened to be married once, or if we're... something else. I don't know if I can trust you. I don't know if I want to trust you."
"That's fair."
"But I also don't hate you anymore." The words came out softer than I intended. "And I can't stop thinking about the fact that I don't hate you."
He leaned forward slightly. "Is that a bad thing?"
"I don't know. It feels dangerous." I met his eyes. "You hurt me, David. You destroyed me. And I rebuilt myself from scratch, and I'm proud of who I am now. But sitting here with you, seeing who you've become—" I stopped, not sure how to finish that sentence.
"It scares you," he finished quietly.
"Yes."
"Because if I've really changed, then you have to decide what to do with that."
"Yes."
We sat in silence for a moment. The building was completely quiet around us. Just the two of us and the hum of fluorescent lights and three years of history sitting heavy in the space between us.
"I'm not asking you to decide anything tonight," David said finally. "I'm not asking you to forgive me or trust me or give me another chance. I just…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm grateful you're here. That you let me work with you on these cases. That you're even willing to sit here and talk to me."
"I'm not doing it for you," I said. But it came out gentler than I meant it.
"I know." He smiled slightly. "You're doing it for Angela. For all the women who need help. That's who you are."
My throat felt tight.
I stood up, too fast, my chair scrapingagainst the floor. "I should let you finish your motion."
"Emma—"
