Why was everyone pushing me? First Dr. Carter, now Remy.
“Listen, Marco.” Remy pressed further. “You may hate law, but you excel at it. Better than most. You’d easily replace half the attorneys on my team and outperform them all.”
“I told you, I’m not interested.”
“Not interested?” He leaned back, gesturing dramatically. “In earning real money? Bigger than anything you’ll make at your government job. No more paperwork.”
“It’s not about the money,” I stated firmly. “You already know that.”
He nodded, his smile slowly fading. “But you’re running out of reasons to say no.”
“This isn’t my life, Remy. It’s yours. I’m only passing through.”
Ignoring me, Remy placed a folder filled with apartment listings neatly on the table. His persistence annoyed me deeply.
“I’m not relocating here,” I repeated with irritation.
“Just humor me,” he insisted. “At least check them out. Spacious, big windows, no claustrophobia.”
Claustrophobia? He tossed the word around as if he knew what it meant—as if he had any idea. He didn't know the first thing about being trapped, about waking up at night and not knowing where you were, about feeling the walls close in tighter with every single breath you took. He joked about things that weren’t jokes—things he had no right to joke about. He had no idea what it felt like to carry all that inside and still pretend to function.
He lost that right the moment he left.
“I don’t care about views,” I said, my voice strained as I tried hard to keep the bitterness down.
“Right.” Remy smirked, careless. “Because looking up once in a while might kill you.”
My pulse quickened, blood rushing in my ears. He didn’t know how close to the truth that was. How could he joke about something he knew nothing about? It took everything in me not to snap—not to stand and shove the goddamn folder off the desk and show him just how thin my patience had worn.
He assumed he’d delivered a clever remark, but it only ignited my anger.
“What did you say?”
He blinked, surprised. “Relax, Marco?—”
“No,” I interrupted firmly. “I’ve made myself clear. This ends today.”
He started to respond, but I cut him off decisively.
“I’m not settling in your city, not renting your overpriced apartments, and definitely not fixing whatever disaster you’ve created. Do you understand me?”
“You’re overreacting?—”
“Overreacting?” My chair scraped the floor as I stood. “You drag me here, stick me in an office, and expect my compliance just because you’re incapable of cleaning up your own mess?”
“Marco—”
“Don’t bother,” I said coldly. “Use your lawyers. Use your resources.”
The room felt unbearably small and the tie impossibly tight. I loosened it roughly, moving toward the door without another glance.
My jaw tightened painfully as I resisted the urge to look back. I didn’t trust myself not to say something I couldn’t take back.
The door clicked softly behind me, but my tightness didn’t ease. Each step down the hallway tightened the knot in my chest. When the doors slid open to an empty elevator, relief washed over me briefly. At least no forced small talk.
The entire trip felt pointless. I should’ve refused outright from the start. Yet a sentimental part of me couldn’t abandon the kid who’d once been my friend, my confidant—the one who’d left me behind.
My reflection stared back at me from a storefront. Seeing myself caught me off-guard, so I hurried into a nearby corner store to avoid it.
