Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
That's lovely.
But what the hell does it have to do with me?
No. That's not the important part.
Daphne's residency.
She's been dodging specifics all this time. She's never once said yes, she'll be at UCI.
Because she won't.
She'll be three thousand miles away.
That's why she has three weeks. That's why she didn't fight me about the other details.
Because she wouldn't be in my life whether we divorced or stayed together.
My boss sees the confusion and sadness on my face and decides it's about leaving my job. He keeps his voice soft. A caring mentor who only wants the best for me. "I don't take it personally. Your wife has the opportunity of a lifetime. Of course, you're going to follow her. I would do the same. If you need help finding a job—What am I saying? Of course, you won't need help. You're a fantastic attorney."
I'm good, but I'm not that good. I'm not find a job in another state, where I'm not licensed in no time flat good.
He continues, "If you want to do me a favor, a friend of mine runs a firm in Manhattan. They always need top talent. You'd have to start over, but you wouldn't start from zero. You'd be partner in a few years."
Right. I could start over. At a new firm.
I could claw my way up again.
Give up everything I've worked for.
All those years of undergrad, law school, eighty-hour work weeks as an associate.
All for nothing.
"I'm not going to New York." The words fall from my lips without passing through my brain.
Surprise spreads over his face. "You're not going to follow your wife?"
I don't know what to say. I don't know what there is to say.
This is why she's so scared.
This is the thing she's been holding back.
"We haven't worked out the specific details yet," I say. "But Daphne wants to return here when she's finished. Her family is here. Her life is here."
"Of course." He nods. "Long distance is hard, but it goes fast. A few years is nothing in the grand scheme of your entire life."
I nod. I say something about how amazing my wife is. I excuse myself.
I move across the space to Daphne.
She sees it in my eyes immediately, but she doesn't say anything. She follows me through the house, through the front door, all the way to the car.
She waits until we're out there alone. She waits until I ask the only question I can ask.
"When were you going to tell me?"
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jackson
Daphne's eyes fill with something I can't place. Something between I'm so sorry and I don't owe you anything.
She holds my gaze for a long moment, then she looks to the ground. She finds whatever it is she needs to say in the off-white concrete.
Slowly, her eyes meet mine. "I wasn't going to tell you."
The anger racing through me dissipates. An honest confession is the last thing I know how to hear.
I can fight back, I can run, I can argue, I can overpower her logic with mine.
I can't change the facts.
"I know it feels like I should have told you." Her voice stays sure and strong. "I feel that too. All week—hell, since I got into my mom's car, I've wanted to get this off my chest." She struggles through a deep breath. "Do you have any idea how scared I am to leave my brother alone? To leave my best friend? My family?"
The vulnerability in her voice cuts through every one of my defenses.
I don't want to hold strong against her. I don't want to hold this against her. I want to hold her close. I want to tell her it will be okay.
There's another impulse in my gut. An urge to push her far, far away. Until she's too far to touch. Until I can't see the hurt in her eyes or smell her shampoo or feel her skin.
Until she fits into a box with all my ex-girlfriends.
But Daphne will never fit with them. Because I love her in a way I've never loved them.
I love her in a way I've never loved anyone.
"I told you three weeks," she says. "We agreed to that. Three weeks and then we go our own ways. Live our own lives."
"You didn't tell me what that meant."
"I didn't owe you that." She holds strong, even as her voice softens. "I am sorry, Jackson. I didn't think I'd feel this way. But I… I can't do it."
"What?" My voice drops to a tone I don't recognize. There's no control. Only a desperate need for her.
"I can't give you two more weeks." She reaches for my hands.
Her fingers brush mine. Her hand curls around my wrist, but it doesn't stay there. She doesn't try to pull me closer.
"The truth is, I knew I was going to New York in January. I've known for a long time and I haven't told anyone. Not even my parents." She pushes an exhale through her teeth. "Mom found out, of course. She has a friend at the hospital. Then Dad found out. He has friends too. They know too many people."