Page 89 of After Everything
"Yes, I do." I stopped pacing. Stared at the wall. "This is who he is, Jess. This is who he's always been. Ambitious. Driven. Chasing the next big thing. I thought he'dchanged, I thought the DV work and the small practice and all of it meant something, but?—"
"Emma, stop."
"But it was just temporary!" The words burst out of me. "Just something he was doing while he figured out his next move. And now the next move is here and he's going to take it because that's who David is. He doesn't turn down partnerships. He doesn't turn down money and prestige and everything he's ever wanted."
"You don't know what he's going to do."
"I do, though." I felt something breaking in my chest. "I know exactly what he's going to do. The same thing he did three years ago. Choose his career over everything else. Choose ambition over?—"
I stopped myself before I could say it.
Over me.
"Come over," Jess said. "Right now. Don't sit there alone spiraling. Come over and we'll order food and you can?—"
"I'm fine."
"Emma—"
"I'm fine. I just—I need to think. I'll call you later."
I hung up before she could argue.
My apartment was too quiet. The pasta water had stopped boiling. The vegetables I'd been chopping were still on the cutting board, abandoned.
I looked at my phone. At David's contact information, still saved from the courthouse cases, from the professional emails, from four days ago when I'd texted him the clinic report.
My thumb hovered over his name.
I could call him. Ask him about the offer. See what he said.
But I already knew what he'd say. Some version of "it's complicated" or "I'm still deciding" or "let me explain." Some way of making it sound like he wasn't already mentally packing for New York.
I put my phone face-down on the counter.
Four days. Four days since he'd sat across from me and said he was in awe of who I'd become. Four days since he'd lookedat me like I was the most important thing in the room.
And the whole time, he'd been planning his exit.
I should have known better. Should have trusted my instincts. Should have remembered that people don't really change, they just get better at hiding who they are.
I cleaned up the kitchen mechanically. Threw away the ruined pasta. Put away the vegetables. Wiped down the counters until they gleamed.
Then I went to my bedroom, climbed into bed fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling.
Somewhere in New York, a partnership was waiting.
And David was going to take it.
Because that's what he did. That's who he was.
And I'd almost been stupid enough to believe otherwise.
CHAPTER 29: DAVID
My phone rang for the fourth time that day.
Jennifer Paulson. Morrison & Klein Executive Search.
