“Nothing like that.” I clear my throat. “Reality always crashes in eventually.” I take a deep breath, steadying myself for the plunge. “In as reality would have it… the Hui-Wang divorce is off.”
For a moment, it’s like the city itself pauses. Demi’s hand freezes on the wheel, her expression swinging from amusement to disbelief. “No way. What happened?”
“Reconciliation. And they’re planning a baby.” Bitterness creeps into my voice. “Evelyn kept emailing while I was away.I thought it was just nerves, but she’s serious. They’re back together. Happily ever after.”
Demi lets out a low, impressed whistle. “Damn. That was your golden ticket.”
“My partnership. Gone.” The words burn. “And William will be strutting around the office as if he owns it.”
“He can go fuck himself with a cactus,” Demi snaps.
I let out a strangled laugh, the kind that’s halfway to a sob. “I swear, he orchestrated this. The timing is too perfect. He probably nudged James’ attorney and told him how much cheaper reconciliation would be.”
She gives me a sideways look, the kind that says she’s already theorized three possible corporate espionage scenarios and would happily help me dispose of a body. “Seriously? You think he’d sabotage you like that?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing away the headache blooming behind my eyes. “I can’t prove it. But I feel it in my gut.”
Demi drums her fingers on the steering wheel, jaw set in solidarity. “Well, fuck William and fuck the Wangs,” she says, the vehemence in her voice sending a little thrill through me. “There will be other cases, and you will make partner, and if not, you can always start your own firm.”
I nod, but we both know better. Cases like the Wangs are rare, and starting my own firm is a fantasy unless a guardian angel or a secret trust fund appears. Silence thickens in the car, heavy as the city heat. I watch taxis and glass towers blur by, trying not to sulk, but my mind refuses to cooperate.
Demi senses my downward spiral. She reaches over and squeezes my knee, firm and grounding. “Don’t start beating yourself up,” she warns. “It’s not a good look. Let’s talk about something happier—like Aaron. What’s he like in the morning? Is he cute or a mess? Does he talk about his feelings, or just wavehis hands around with metaphors? I’ve always wondered how my favorite author acts off the page.”
I’m grateful for the change in topic, because if we had kept talking about it, I think I would have ended up crying.
I force a laugh, feeling the weight shift in my chest. “Aaron in the morning is… surprisingly cheerful. Like annoyingly so. He gets up and makes coffee without complaint, and he’s just so present. It’s unsettling.”
“Unsettling?” Demi takes her eyes off the road for a dangerous second. “You mean refreshing, right? Because William was a grumpy asshole who needed catering to every morning.”
“Yes, refreshing,” I admit. “He’s attentive in ways I’m not used to. He notices everything—like when I’m cold, or when I need water after…” I trail off, cheeks burning.
Demi cackles. “After he fucks the shit outta you? Babes, that man has ruined you, and I love that for you. I’ve never seen you blush like this.”
“It’s not just the sex,” I say, gazing out the window. “It’s everything. He’s romantic, but not over the top. When he looks at me, I feel like I’m the only person in the world.”
“And that’s bad because…?”
“Because what if I get used to it? What if I start expecting it? And then, when it fades?—”
“When it fades?” Demi interrupts, turning a corner with a sharp twist of the wheel. “Not if, but when? Listen to yourself!”
I sink deeper into the passenger seat. “You know what I mean. The honeymoon phase always ends.”
“For some people,” she shoots back. “For others, it just evolves. Not everyone’s relationship is doomed to fail like your clients’. Girl, if you mess this up, I’ll bury you in my greenhouse. Emotional sabotage is a crime.”
“You know I’ll probably do something to ruin it, eventually.”
“Which is why you need—” She glances over her shoulder, then back at me—“to have a plan.”
I scoff. “Because relationship strategy is my strong suit?”
“No, because you’re a disaster in heels, and I refuse to let you self-destruct without a backup parachute.” She gestures emphatically, zipping around a truck. “So what’s your next move?”
I crack the window. “I work. I find another case and claw my way back.”
“You know I’m not asking you about work. Why the hell would I ask you about work? I’m talking about Aaron!”
I swallow, unsure how to answer.
