But a little voice reminded me Emerson had warned me that his father didn’t do things without expecting something in return. I just didn’t take it seriously.
But it didn’t matter anymore. Emerson and I were over. I would just have to find a way to get over it. And I was pretty sure that restorative yoga wasn’t going to be the thing that did it.
My one saving grace was work. As always, when my personal life was a mess, I had been able to throw myself into my work, and that’s what I did now. It was the only thing that was keeping me sane, and luckily the firm had more than enough for me to do. I was working longer hours—spending as much time as I could at the office and avoiding my own apartment. There were too many sad memories there. If I could have slept at my desk, I would have.
But while work was providing me with a necessary distraction, I found that it wasn’t giving me the same satisfaction it always had. At the end of the day, I still had this empty feeling inside of me. And nothing, it seemed, was able to fill that.
Still, I kept trying. Kept working.
Two weeks after the gala, two weeks after my terrible fight with Emerson, I ran into Lucinda in the hallway. She was crying. Full on mascara running, ugly crying. It was jarring.
“Are you OK?” I asked her, offering her a tissue.
She shook her head, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her look before.
“I didn’t get it,” she managed, between sobs. “The associate position. I didn’t get it.”
My heart stopped. In the midst of my heartbreak, I had completely forgotten about the competition and that the partners had been close to making a decision.
“Where’s Bryce?” I asked.
She gestured towards the conference room. “He’s with them right now,” she said, sniffling. “I’m sure they’ll want to meet with you next.”
They did. After escorting Lucinda back to her desk, I found a note at my own, asking for me to wait outside the conference room. I felt sick as I sat there, bracing myself for the bad news. If they hadn’t chosen Lucinda, surely they would have picked Bryce. He had the background and pedigree. Yeah, he was kind of a dumb bro, but law was still a man’s world, and Bryce was a man’s man. The job was probably his.
But when he came out, his expression was inscrutable. He didn’t even look at me when he left, and I barely had a moment to process it before I was called in front of the partners. I took a seat at the end of the endlessly long conference table, facing the partners. Arthur was the only friendly face I saw, but his expression was just as impossible to read as Bryce’s had been.
I held my breath. And then Arthur smiled.
“Congratulations, Alexandra,” he told me. “We are thrilled to offer you the associate position here at Patricks, Richmond & Garrison.”
At first I thought I had heard him wrong. They chose me? Me, the state-school nobody, over those as well connected as Bryce and Lucinda?
Then I came back down to earth with a bump. They probably still thought I had connections that would be beneficial to them. And even though I knew it would cost me the job, there was no way I could continue without letting them know the truth.
“I appreciate the offer,” I said slowly.
I could see that my reaction was not the one that Arthur and the others were expecting. Arthur’s smile began to slip, replaced with a look of confusion.
“But before you go any further, you should know that Emerson Hayes and I are no longer together. So, if you offered me this job because you think I’ll be able to bring his family’s business to the firm, I’m afraid that isn’t possible.” I took a deep breath. “I understand if you want to rescind the offer.”
Arthur looked amused.
“That’s not why we offered you the job,” he told me. “Your connection to the Hayes family was promising, no one is denying that,” he said with a smile. “But you’ve been offered the job because you’re the best candidate.”
His words slowly sank in.
I had gotten the job. The thing I had been working for since I decided to become a lawyer. I had gotten exactly what I wanted.
I should be on top of the world. So why did I still feel so empty?
23
Alex
Arthur gave me the rest of the day off.
“Go celebrate,” he told me. “That’s an order. There will be plenty of work for you to do next week.”
I wanted to do exactly that, but I couldn’t escape the hollow feeling that seemed to have taken up residence inside of me. I should have been thrilled. Should have been jumping for joy, running through the streets of Chicago screaming, or at the very least I should have been feeling something, anything.
I just felt numb.
All I wanted to do was see Emerson. He was the first person I wanted to tell when Arthur’s words had finally, truly sunk in. I wanted to celebrate with him. But I couldn’t.
But I could call my mom. She picked up on the second ring.
“Is everything OK?” she asked, sounding worried.
Not that I blamed her—besides a call every few weeks, we mostly communicated through text. But this was the kind of news that I had to tell her directly.
“Everything is fine,” I reassured her. “Actually, it’s better than fine.” I said, and then told her about the job.
“Oh honey, that is wonderful,” she told me. “I’m so proud of you.”
Those words triggered an avalanche of emotion. Emerson had said that to me the night of the gala, and it had meant so much to me. Hearing my mom say it, hearing the pride in her voice, just made me fall apart. Pretty soon I was sobbing into the phone.
“What’s wrong?” my mom wanted to know. “Are those tears of happiness?”
They were, but they weren’t. Everything that had happened between me and Emerson had happened so quickly that I had never gotten the chance to tell my mom. I had been waiting for the right moment, and then when it ended, I didn’t want to talk about it. But now, it was all coming out, my words barely audible between sobs as I told her about Emerson and what had happened between us.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she said once I was done. “But people make mistakes, you know. Say things that they don’t mean.” She sighed. “Sometimes it’s better to get all that out on the table, instead of keeping it bottled up inside.”
“What are you saying?” I wanted to know. “Are you saying it’s good that we fought? That Emerson accused me of selling my soul?”
“Not at all,” my mother said quickly. “Those things he said to you were cruel. And you didn’t deserve them. But, I can tell you from experience, that a fight—even as bad as the one that you two had—doesn’t necessarily mean that you should give up.”
“What do you mean from experience?” We had never really spoken about my father.
“Well, honey.” My mom took a deep breath. “Your father and I never fought. Ever. When he left, it took me completely by surprise. Because he never mentioned that he was having problems, or doubts, or fears, or whatever it was that led him to leave.”
“He left because he was a coward,” I told her, my voice like steel.
“Yes, he was,” my mother agreed. “But sometimes I wonder that if we had talked—actually talked earlier—maybe we would never have gotten to that point.”
“You’re saying I should go talk to Emerson,” I concluded.
“I would never tell you what to do,” she countered. “But you need to follow your heart, wherever that leads.”
By the time we finished talking, I found myself standing in front of Rascals. I had walked all the way home from the office—completely on autopilot. I hung up, and stared at the OPEN sign hanging in the window.
Just talk to him, a voice inside my head suggested. What’s the worst that could happen?
You could catch him with another girl, a second voice offered. Or he could say cruel things to me. Break my heart all over again.
But I wanted to talk to him.
So I went inside.
Liam was behind the bar. Chase was nowhere in sight.
“Alex,” Liam said, his voice cautious. “How can I help you?”
I could have turned around and left. I didn’t.
“I was looking for Emerson,” I told him. “Is he here?”
The look that Liam gave me was sympathetic. “Emerson is out of town. Camping with Chase and Sawyer.”
Had I been avoiding the bar this week for nothing? How long had he been gone for? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. I had a feeling that Liam might not tell me anyways.
So instead, I thanked him and headed upstairs to my apartment. I was turning the corner when I ran into someone.
“Hayley!” I was surprised to see her—especially surprised that she was in my building.
“Alex!” She threw her arms around me, pinning my own arms to my side. “I was hoping I’d catch you.”
“Are you OK?” I pulled back, searching her face for the reason she’d come.
“I’m fine,” she told me quickly, grabbing my arm. “But Emerson’s not. He’s clearly torn up over this breakup.”
My heart twisted—both in sympathy and relief. If I was in pain, it was only fair that he was too. But as mad as I was at him, I still hated the idea that he was hurting.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I told her, moving away. “But that’s not really my problem anymore.” It felt cruel and callous to turn Hayley away, but she basically ignored me.
“Have coffee with me,” she begged, giving me the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “Pretty please.”
I got the feeling that she wasn’t someone who would give up when it came to matters like this, so I sighed and invited her in for a cup of coffee.
“Just one cup,” I warned, and she nodded eagerly.
Her eyes were huge when she followed me into my apartment.
“Oh my God,” she said, looking around. “It’s so tiny.”