What was she waiting for?
Miller unlaced her shoes and left them by the door. She made herself a sandwich she didn't taste and ate it standing at the kitchen counter, watching the evening light shift across the walls. She thought about calling her moms, but she didn't know what she'd say.I recused myself from a case today because I kissed the opposing party in a law library and I can't stop thinking about her.Nadia would understand. Harper would ask hard questions Miller wasn't ready to answer.
The day replayed in fragments: Rachel's professional neutrality, Valerie's frozen smile cracking into fury.
Miller washed her plate and dried it and put it away. She wiped down the counter even though it was already clean. She was stalling, and she knew it, but the alternative was sitting still with her thoughts, and that felt worse.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. Miller’s stomach dropped, and she stared at the screen without picking it up.
Unknown number, local area code.
It buzzed again. She picked it up before she could talk herself out of it. “Hello?”
There was a pause, then a voice she would’ve recognized anywhere spoke. “Miller, it’s Astoria.”
Miller’s breath caught. Of all the things she’d imagined when she saw the unknown number—a client, a colleague, spam—this hadn’t been one of them.
“Hi,” she said, and the word came out softer than she intended.
“I heard you recused yourself from Valerie's case.” Astoria's voice was measured, the way it always was when she was being careful. “Gerald told me this afternoon.”
“Word travels fast.”
“In legal circles, yes.” She paused. “He didn’t know why. He just said there was a conflict of interest and that Rachel would be handling things solo.”
Miller leaned against the counter, pressing her free hand flat against the cool surface. “That's right.”
“What kind of conflict?”
The question hung between them. Miller could deflect. She could give Astoria the same non-answer she'd given Rachel, the same evasive nothingness she'd offered Valerie. It would be the smart thing to do.
But she was so tired of being smart.
“You,” Miller said. “The conflict is you.”
Miller’s chest felt heavy as she listened to the silence stretched taut between them.
“You gave up the case,” Astoria said slowly. “For me.”
For my own integrity, but yes, also for you.”
“Miller.” Astoria's voice cracked slightly on her name. “I don't… I haven't stopped thinking about it either. About you. I thought I was going crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.”
“I keep remembering the way you—” Astoria stopped herself. When she spoke again, her voice was steadier, but just barely. “Can we talk? In person, I mean.”
Miller’s pulse jumped. “Yes.”
“Tomorrow. There’s a hotel bar downtown, The Meridian. Do you know it?”
“I can find it.”
“Seven o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
There was another pause, longer this time. Miller could hear Astoria breathing on the other end of the line, and something about that intimacy—just the sound of her breath—made Miller's skin prickle with awareness.
