Page 96 of After Everything
"She wouldn't dare."
"It's Jess. She absolutely would." He grabbed his keys. "She also said Marcus is bringing his new girlfriend, the one from the yoga studio."
"The instructor who made him do crow pose on their first date?"
"That's the one."
We walked to the bar hand in hand, December cold making our breath visible. David had turned down three headhunting calls this month alone—big firms offering senior positions, the kind of money that used to matter to him. He'd barely bothered listening to their pitches.
"I have everything I want," he'd told me after the last one. "Why would I fuck that up for a corner office?"
The bar was packed with my colleagues, but I spotted Marcus immediately—he was demonstrating some elaborate story to a group of nurses who were crying with laughter.
"There she is!" Dr. Martinez raised her wine glass. "Our new director!"
The next hour was a blur of congratulations and conversations. David stayed close but not clingy, chatting easily with my coworkers. He'd become part of this world—showing up to fundraisers, referring cases, becoming friends with people who'd initially side-eyed him hard.
"He's different," Jess had told me last month. "Like, actually different. Not performing different."
She was right. This David didn't perform anything. He just was.
"Want to get some air?" he asked, after I'd made the rounds.
We stepped onto the bar's small patio. The city sparkled around us, everything feeling possible.
"I have something to tell you," he said.
My stomach flipped. Old habit.
"What?"
"I put an offer on the Prospect Heights office space. The one with room for three attorneys." He watched my face carefully. "I want to expand the practice. Take on more cases. Maybe hire that law student who's been volunteering."
"David, that's amazing!"
"Yeah?" He seemed to exhale. "It's a big lease. Big commitment."
"You're ready for it."
"We're ready for it," he corrected. "I ran the numbers by you last week, remember?"
I did remember. Sitting at our kitchen table, going through spreadsheets together, him genuinely wanting my input. Nothing like the unilateral decisions of our first marriage.
"I love you," I said suddenly.
"Still hits different," he murmured, pulling me close. "Every time you say it."
"I love you," I repeated, just to watch him smile.
"January wedding?" he asked against my hair. "Or are you still thinking spring?"
"January." I'd already lost three yearswith him. I wasn't wasting more time. "Small thing. Just family and close friends."
"Whatever you want."
"I want you," I said simply. "Everything else is just details."
He kissed me then, right there on the patio with my coworkers probably watching through the window. When we pulled apart, his eyes were bright.
