Prologue
Six Months Earlier
The cafe pulses with noise as Mina leans over the table, all directness and dark curls. She slashes through my misery with one sentence: “He did you a favor.”
Her voice rises over the clatter of coffee cups around us, cutting to the truth like I won’t. “Now you can focus on your career without his dead weight.”
She thinks it’s that simple.
“He wasn’t all bad,” I say, but she isn’t convinced.
Mina raises a sharp brow, tapping her nails on her coffee cup with a rapid-fire percussion while she waits for me to continue.
“I know he’s a little...” I start, trying to find the right word.
“A little what?” Mina says, leaning back with a smirk. She knows there isn’t anything remotely redeeming that I could say about him.
I sigh, my gaze sliding away from her. I’m too used to defending him even when he’s not around to hear.
Even when he doesn’t deserve it.
“You know,” I protest weakly.
“Exactly,” Mina says, folding her arms. “Idoknow. He’s a limp-dick coward, and the only thing bigger than his ego is your capacity to make excuses for him.”
Any response I could conjure at this moment would simply fall flat because she’s right.
She shakes her head, pushing her curls from her eyes.
“I don’t get it. You’re finally free. What are you missing from him so much that you can’t focus on the things you know matter the most for your future?”
Before I can even open my mouth, she’s listing specifics.
“Let’s see. How about the way he volunteered you to edit his work all the time? Because ‘You’re better at that kind of thing.’ Or the way he missed your birthday dinner because he got last-minute tickets to a baseball game? Oh! Or the time he asked you to skip bar exam prep so you could pick him up from an actual bar in midtown?”
“You can’t say he didn’t love me,” I murmur.
The words feel false as soon as they leave my mouth.
She looks at me, astonished. “Did you just miss the part where I reminded you he chose hot, sweaty men in tight pants over your birthday?”
The revelation is embarrassing. Pathetic, really. Yet, I can’t stop the quiet giggle that comes. Mina has always had a way of making me laugh even when I’m at my lowest.
“I don’t know if Pierce loves anyone but Pierce,” Mina says, sipping her latte. “And you’ve got so much more ahead of you. Don’t let him hold you back, Ave.”
Her use of my nickname softens it all, lending it a sincerity I find comforting. I look around, avoiding her eyes. Instead, watching how the cafe teems with people moving quickly in and out with their coffees in hand.
Mina’s hand touches mine, firm and steady, grounding me.
“This is your chance to focus on you. To put yourself first. You should apply to those big firms. Get the job you’ve always wanted.”
I hesitate, afraid to say the words I need to say. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear it until now.
She continues, pushing her case. “What happened to the Avery I met the first year of law school? She wouldn’t let a man keep her down like this.”
Mina’s eyes catch mine, expressive and probably full of unsaid thoughts. Although very few of her thoughts actually go unsaid, I know she’s holding back just a little for my sake.
I look down, breaking the connection, but she’s planted something. A small seed of motivation. Hope for new opportunities. The desire for everything I’ve worked so hard for reignited.
