Chapter 7: Memories

 

Alex had seen Emma coming around the corner.

That was the worst part. She'd seen Emma, had a split second to move out of the way, and instead she'd frozen like an idiot and let them collide.

Now files were scattered across the hallway floor, and Emma was scrambling to pick them up, and Alex was kneeling beside her trying to help, and they were so close Alex could smell her shampoo.

Still the same. After eight years, Emma still used that coconut fragrance shampoo that Alex used to bury her face in when they—

Stop. Don't think about that.

"Let me help," Alex said, reaching for a document.

"I don't need your help."

The words stung. But Alex deserved them.

She gathered papers anyway, organizing them by case number automatically. The Bennett files mixed with discovery documents mixed with what looked like Emma's notes for the presentation. Emma's handwriting was still the same too—neat, precise, with those little flourishes on her capital letters.

Alex remembered that handwriting. Had saved notes Emma had written her in college. Still had them, actually, tucked in a box in her closet that she'd never been able to throw away.

Love notes. Study reminders. A napkin from the coffee shop where they'd had their first real conversation, with You're brilliant, you know that? scrawled across it in Emma's handwriting.

Alex had been carrying that napkin in her wallet for three weeks when Emma had kissed her for the first time.

"Emma, please. I—"

Their hands reached for the same document.

Touched.

The world stopped.

Emma's hand was on top of Alex's. Warm. Real. The same hand that used to trace patterns on Alex's skin in the dark, the same hand that had clenched into fists the last time they'd seen each other, the same hand that—

Memories crashed over Alex like a wave.

Emma's hand in hers as they walked across campus late at night, careful to stay in the shadows where no one would see. Emma's fingers laced through Alex's, squeezing gently.

"Are you sure about this?" Emma had whispered. "About us?"

And Alex, terrified but so in love she couldn't breathe, had squeezed back. "I've never been more sure of anything."

A lie. Even then, she'd been lying. Because she wasn't sure. Wasn't sure she was brave enough to be who she really was, wasn't sure she could handle her father's disappointment, wasn't sure she deserved someone as bright and open and fearless as Emma Parker.

Emma yanked her hand back. "Don't."

The memories shattered.

Alex looked up. Emma's hazel eyes were bright with something that might have been tears or fury or both.

"Don't what?" Alex heard herself ask.

"Don't touch me. Don't look at me like that. Don't—" Emma's voice broke. "Just don't."

Alex wanted to say so many things. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I've regretted it every day for eight years. I never stopped—

"Ms. Parker. Ms. Richardson."

Morrison's voice cut through the moment like a knife.

Emma stood so fast she nearly knocked Alex over. Alex scrambled to her feet, clutching files, trying to arrange her face into a professional mask.

Morrison watched them with those sharp eyes. "The conference room is ready. We start in five minutes. I suggest you both get yourselves together."

He walked away.

Alex and Emma stood frozen, files scattered between them, the air thick with everything unsaid.

"Emma—"

"Don't." Emma's hands were shaking. "We have a presentation in five minutes. Let's just—let's just get it over with."

She walked away, leaving Alex alone in the hallway.

Alex knelt and gathered the remaining files with shaking hands. Her heart was racing. That touch,that simple, accidental touch, had brought back everything.

Every kiss. Every whispered conversation. Every stolen moment. Every feelings.

Every lie Alex had told herself about moving on.

She stood, arms full of files, and tried to pull herself together.

Five minutes. She had five minutes to become the confident senior partner again. To bury eight years of regret and longing and what-ifs.

She could do this. She'd done harder things.

That was a lie too, but Alex was good at lying to herself.

She walked into the conference room. Emma was already there, laptop open, expression carefully blank. Alex took the seat beside her, the only seat available, and pulled out her own presentation notes.

Their shoulders almost touched.

Emma shifted away slightly.

Professional distance. Right.

"We should sync up on the presentation," Alex said quietly. "Compare notes."

"Fine."

They worked in silence. Emma would speak first, covering the case background and Genovex's litigation history. Alex would handle legal strategy and their planned approach. They'd tag-team the Q&A.

Simple. Professional. No hint of the tension crackling between them.

Other attorneys filed in. Partners, senior associates, a handful of junior associates there to observe. Alex recognized faces from the morning meeting, names she'd already half-forgotten.

Except David , who was looking at Emma with obvious concern and at Alex with something that might have been hostility.

Emma's friend. Her protector.

Good. Emma deserved people who protected her.

Morrison entered, settling at the head of the table. "Ms. Richardson. Ms. Parker. You're up."

Alex stood. Emma stood beside her, close enough that Alex could feel the heat radiating from her body.

"Thank you, Mr. Morrison." Alex's voice was steady. Professional. "Emma and I have prepared a preliminary overview of the Bennett Pharmaceutical case and our proposed strategy."

Emma pulled up the presentation on the screen. "Bennett Pharmaceuticals is facing a fifty-million-dollar patent infringement suit from Genovex Corp. Genovex alleges that Bennett's new diabetes medication, DiabetaFix, violates three of their existing patents related to chemical compounds and delivery mechanisms."

Alex watched Emma present. She was good. Confident. Her voice never wavered, her explanations were clear, and she commanded the room's attention effortlessly.

This was the Emma who'd survived Alex leaving. Who'd gone to Stanford Law, graduated near the top of her class, and built a career through sheer determination.

This Emma didn't need Alex. Didn't need anyone.

Alex felt a surge of pride mixed with devastating loss.

Emma clicked to the next slide. "However, Genovex has a concerning litigation history. Fourteen similar suits in five years, with only a thirty-six percent success rate. Their expert witness, Dr. Harold Chen, has testified in multiple cases and demonstrates a pattern of poor performance under cross-examination."

Morrison leaned forward. "How do you plan to exploit that?"

This was Alex's cue. She stepped forward smoothly. "We'll challenge their patents on obviousness grounds. The chemical compounds in question are similar enough to existing medications that any person having ordinary skill in the art would find them obvious. Additionally, we've identified three academic papers from 2019 describing similar compounds that were not cited in Genovex's patent applications, suggesting prior art."

"Timeline?" one of the senior partners asked.

"Eight weeks to trial," Emma said, pulling up a Gantt chart. "Depositions, weeks two and three, including Dr. Chen and Bennett's chief scientist, Dr. Martinez. Motion to invalidate two of the three patents filed end of week one. Expert witness prep week four. Trial prep weeks five through seven."

"And your division of labor?" Morrison asked, looking between them.

Alex and Emma glanced at each other. A split-second look, but it felt like touching a live wire.

"Ms. Parker will handle fact witnesses and discovery management," Alex said. "I'll focus on legal strategy and expert witnesses. We'll collaborate on trial prep and courtroom presentation."

"You'll need to work closely," Morrison said. "Late nights. Weekends. High pressure. Can you handle that?"

Another look between them. This one lasted a fraction longer.

"Yes," they said in unison.

Morrison studied them for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Good. I'll expect weekly updates. This case matters, and I'm counting on both of you." He looked around the table. "Questions?"

The partners asked about precedents, about settlement possibilities, about budget. Alex and Emma fielded them smoothly, their responses complementing each other's, finishing each other's sentences occasionally without meaning to.

Despite everything, they worked well together.

They always had.

That was part of what made this so hard.

"Excellent work," Morrison said finally. "Ms. Richardson, Ms. Parker, you're dismissed. The rest of us need to discuss resource allocation."

Alex gathered her materials. Emma did the same. They walked out together, maintaining careful distance.

In the hallway, Emma turned left toward her office. Alex turned right toward hers.

"Emma," Alex said before she could stop herself.

Emma paused but didn't turn around.

"The presentation, you were excellent. Really excellent."

Emma's shoulders tensed. "Thank you, Ms. Richardson."

She walked away.

Alex stood in the hallway, watching her go, feeling the weight of eight years pressing down on her chest.