Se connecterA call comes in as my phone screen light up, I stand to check and it’s Zara.I’m not not surprised she called, I understand that even though she acts pretty tough on the outside somewhere or somehow a part of her must be worried about me, and probably about Maya.I pick up and I can hear from the other end of the phone that she is not at home.“Hey” I said.“ Ethan, hope I didn’t wake you?” “No. Not at all I’m still going awake” I replied“oh! Ok. I went out for some drinks with my friend and It just felt right to call you.” She muttered on the phone.I smile “ I understand. Have fun.” I hang up.For some reason a thread of guilt slowly creeps in as I drop my phone. a question continues to pop up in my head.“ Will I be able to see this relationship through without?”My mind drifts again to the day I took Maya to meet my family.I waited almost two months before I took her home.Not because I was unsure about her.Quite the opposite.The more certain I became about Maya, the
I got out of the bathroom and throw on my night robe hoping I could clear my head with a can of beer as I proceed to my kitchen but the splattering of the rain on my window takes me back again as I sit on my dining and watch How it drops on my window.It was raining.We were on Bleecker Street, heading back from the coffee shop when the rain started—the way spring rain always seems to start. One second the sky was only threatening it, the next it had made up its mind.People around us hurried. A few swore under their breath. Someone pulled a newspaper over their head.She didn’t.That was the first thing I noticed.The rain caught us for maybe thirty seconds before we ducked beneath the awning of a bookstore, and by then the ends of her hair were dark with water. Tiny droplets clung to her eyelashes.Most people react to unexpected rain. A groan. A laugh. Some acknowledgment that their plans have been inconvenienced.She just adjusted.As if weather was simply another fact to work aro
Before I realized it, Thursday had become my favorite day of the week.It wasn’t something I planned. I never sat down and decided that Thursdays mattered. It just happened little by little, so slowly that I didn’t notice it at first.Then, during the third week, I showed up at the library and she wasn’t there.I sat at our usual table, opened my textbook, and told myself it didn’t matter.People get busy. People miss days. We weren’t friends. We didn’t have plans. A shared table in a library wasn’t exactly an appointment.Still, I kept glancing up every time I heard footsteps.An hour and a half passed.I read page after page and couldn’t remember a single thing I’d read.The next Thursday, she came back.She arrived a little after I did, sat in her usual seat, opened her book, and started reading.She didn’t explain where she’d been.I didn’t ask.But sometime during that quiet morning, I realized something I hadn’t wanted to admit before.I’d missed her.Not because we’d spent hour
I get home after dropping off Zara from the party and something inside of me is yearning for a word with Maya.Taking off my clothes I go into the shower to freshen up.While the warm water runs down my body my mind continues drift towards her and so far I have tried so hard to stop myself from thinking about her, I often told myself everything was in the past but tonight was different.I finally stood in between my past and my present.But something doesn’t seem right.My mind after a hassle drifts back to the first day I met her.The seat wasn’t taken.I could tell from a few feet away that the chair across from the woman in the corner of the library was empty. There was nothing on it—no bag, no jacket, no notebook marking it as reserved for someone who had stepped away for a minute. Just an empty chair at a table with three other empty chairs, and a woman deeply absorbed in her book. She had the kind of focus that suggested she’d settled in for a while and had no intention of leavi
Ethan’s POVI hadn’t planned on attending the Harlow Foundation benefit.My mother had added it to my calendar three weeks earlier, along with a reminder that the firm should maintain a visible presence at legal aid events. She wasn’t wrong. She rarely was when it came to optics.I still suspected she’d scheduled it knowing I’d never say no.So there I was.Carter tagged along because, according to him, any event with an open bar was worth at least an hour of his time. Zara arrived later, fresh from another work function and somehow still looking like she had energy left to spare.The rooftop buzzed with the familiar rhythm of Manhattan charity events. Lawyers networking with donors. Executives discussing philanthropy between business deals. Socialites floating from conversation to conversation with effortless charm.I’d grown up around people like this.I knew how to work a room, when to smile, when to shake hands, when to say exactly what someone wanted to hear.That didn’t mean I e
The lights stretched endlessly below, glowing against the dark.I stood there for several minutes, trying not to think too hard about what she’d said.Or why it bothered me.Jade found me about seven minutes later.“There you are.”I looked over my shoulder.“What are you doing out here?”“Thinking.”“That’s usually a dangerous sign.”I laughed softly.She glanced toward the crowd.“What was that about?”“A conversation.”“With Zara Ashton?”I nodded.Jade stared at me.“And?”I let out a breath.“She was direct.”Jade waited.“And?”“Kind.”Her eyebrows went up.“And I think I might actually like her.”Jade blinked.“Oh.”“Exactly.”“That seems… inconvenient.”“Incredibly.”For a second, she looked like she was trying to process that.Then she shook her head.“Well. That’s not what I expected.”“What did you expect?”She gave me a look.“Something messier.”I couldn’t even argue with that.Eventually we went to get our coats.Outside, the night air was cooler than I’d expected.We sh
The morning of the first hearing, I wake up at five.Not because my alarm goes off. Because my eyes just open, like my body knew before my mind caught up to what today was.I lie in the dark for exactly one minute.Then I get up.I had laid out my outfit the night before. Black suit, clean lines,
Patrick Caldwell noticed me within my first year. He gave me more responsibility. Then more. By year three, I was running my own cases. By year five, I was his most trusted associate.Last year, I won a case that made the papers. A small tech startup suing a larger corporation for intellectual prop
I don't tell any of this to my new associate, Priya Mehta, when she comes into my office at ten in the morning with a fresh copy of the Mercer case filings.Priya is twenty-six, sharp as a blade, and deeply nosy in the way that makes her excellent at her job. She sets the files on my desk and look
For the first year, it was good. Really good. We had a small apartment in Brooklyn, nothing fancy, the kind with thin walls and a radiator that clanked all winter. I started law school. Ethan was working at a mid-size finance firm, trying to build something of his own outside his family's name. We







