Chapter 6 Emma
Iwas charting meds when Jess appeared at the ICU nurses' station.
It had been a week and a half since I'd kicked David out. Ten days of functioning on autopilot: work, home, sleep, repeat. The new locks on my doors. The wine stain I still hadn't scrubbed clean. The silence that filled every room.
I'd gone back to work after three days. Couldn't afford not to, and honestly, I needed it. Needed the structure. Needed to focus on keeping other people alive so I didn't have to think about how my own life had imploded.
"Hey," Jess said, slightly out of breath. She must have taken the stairs—the ER was two floors down. "You busy?"
I glanced at the patient board. Mr. Patterson in bed 3 was stable post-op. Mrs. Ellis in bed 7 was sleeping. Nothing critical happening for once.
"I've got a few minutes. What's up?"
Jess looked around at the other nurses, then lowered her voice. "Break room. Now."
Something in her expression made my stomach tighten. "Is everything okay?"
"Just come on."
I followed her down the hall to the small break room we shared with the step-down unit. It was empty except for someone's forgotten coffee mug in the sink and a box of donuts that had been sitting there since morning shift.
Jess closed the door behind us.
"Okay, so don't freak out," she started, which was never a good way to start a conversation.
"What did you do?"
"I've been... keeping tabs. On David." She pulled out her phone. "I know you said you didn't want to know what was going on with him, but Emma, you need to see this."
My first instinct was to say no. I'd been avoiding everything David-related for ten days. Blocked his number. Unfollowed him on every social media platform. Told Rachel to handle all the divorce communications so I wouldn't have to hear his voice.
But something in Jess's expression, something that was equal parts vindicated and furious, made me curious.
"What is it?"
She handed me her phone. LinkedIn was open, showing a post from someone named Elliot Webb.
Excited to announce that Webb & Associates will be partnering with Olson, Chen & Lowe on the Henderson class action suit. Looking forward to working with such a talented team on this important case.
I stared at the screen. "I don't understand. Who's Elliot Webb?"
"He's a partner at some firm downtown. But that's not the important part." Jess swiped to another tab. "Look at this."
It was David's firm's website. The "Our Team" page. I recognized David's headshot immediately, even though I tried not to look at it. But Jess wasn't showing me David's profile. She was pointing to a news section at the bottom.
Oakley & Barnes has withdrawn from the Henderson case due to unforeseen conflicts of interest. We wish them continued success.
My heart started beating faster. "Sarah's firm pulled out."
"Sarah's firm pulled out," Jess confirmed. "And look at the date. It was announced three days ago. Radio silence from David's firm about it until this Elliot Webb guy posted about replacing them."
I handed the phone back, my hand shaking slightly. "Why would they pull out?"
Jess gave me a look. "Come on, Emma. You're smarter than that."
I was. I knew exactly why they'd pulled out.
Because someone found out about the affair. Because Sarah's father—the managing partner, the one David had told me about, the conservative one who ran his firm like it was 1950—found out his daughter was sleeping with a married co-counsel.
"David's firm is going to know," I said quietly. "If Sarah's firm pulled out because of the affair, his bosses are going to figure it out."
"Oh, they already know." Jess's expression was grim. "They have to. Sarah's firm is pretty big, isn’t it? They wouldn't just pull out of a massive case for no reason. And the timing? Right after you kicked him out, right after you filed for divorce? David's bosses aren't stupid."
I stared at the phone in my hand, at the firm's announcement about the withdrawal. Three days ago. This had been public knowledge for three days, and I hadn't known.
"Partnership review is supposed to be soon, right?" Jess asked. "Like, next month?"
"October," I said automatically. David had been talking about it for a year. The Henderson case was supposed to seal the deal. Partnership by thirty-three. That was the plan.
"Yeah, well." Jess took her phone back. "I'm guessing that's not going to go well."
I sat down in one of the plastic break room chairs. Sarah's firm had pulled out. Publicly. Citing "conflicts of interest," which in the legal world might as well be a flashing neon sign that something had gone wrong.
David's firm would know why. They'd have to. And if they knew, David's career—everything he'd worked for, everything I'd sacrificed for—was about to implode.
"He's going to lose everything," I said quietly.
"Good." Jess's voice was sharp. "He deserves it."
Did he? I didn't know anymore. Ten days ago, I would have said yes without hesitation. But now, sitting in this break room with its flickering fluorescent lights and stale donut smell, I didn't feel the satisfaction I'd expected.
"I've been checking Sarah's social media too," Jess continued. "She hasn't posted anything in over a week. Usually she's all over LinkedIn with case updates and professional humble-brags. Radio silence now. I think she's laying low."
"Smart," I muttered.
"Or she's protecting herself while David takes the fall." Jess leaned against the counter. "Her firm pulled out. Her reputation might take a hit, but she's still got her father protecting her. David doesn't have that."
I thought about that. Sarah, insulated by her father's firm, by her family name. She’d be okay. As for David… alone in some hotel room, watching everything crumble.
I should have cared more. Or less. I wasn't sure which.
"Emma." Jess's voice softened. "Are you okay?"
Was I? I'd spent ten days going through the motions: work, home, sleep, repeat. Filing for divorce with Rachel's help. Changing my passwords. Blocking David's number. Doing all the things you're supposed to do when your marriage ends.
But I hadn't actually processed any of it. Hadn't let myself feel it. Because if I started feeling it, I might fall apart, and I couldn't afford to fall apart.
"I don't know," I said honestly.
Jess studied my face for a long moment. Then she pulled out the chair next to me and sat down.
"Okay, I'm going to say something, and you're going to listen." Her voice was gentle but firm. "You need to stop thinking about David."
"I'm not—"
"You are. Even when you're not actively thinking about him, you're thinking about him. What he's doing, what's happening to him, whether he's suffering enough." She reached over and squeezed my hand. "Emma, he doesn't deserve this much space in your head."
I looked down at our hands. "He destroyed everything."
"He destroyed your marriage. That's not the same as everything." Jess leaned forward. "You still have your job. Your friends. Your sister. Your whole life. And you need to start thinking about what YOU want. Not what he deserves, not what punishment is fair. What do you want?"
The question hung in the air.
What did I want?
Ten days ago, I'd wanted him to hurt the way I was hurting. Wanted him to lose everything the way I'd lost everything. Wanted justice, revenge, vindication.
But now, sitting here in this break room, hearing about his career imploding and Sarah abandoning him—because I was sure she had—and his reputation crumbling… it didn't make me feel better. It just made me feel...
Tired.
"I don't know what I want," I admitted.
"Then figure it out." Jess stood up. "But start with something small. What do you want for dinner tonight? What do you want to watch on Netflix? What do you want to do this weekend that has nothing to do with David or divorce or any of this shit?"
I thought about it. "I want to go for a run. I haven't run in weeks."
"There you go." Jess smiled. "Start there. One thing at a time."
She was right. I'd been so consumed by what had happened, by what David had done, that I'd forgotten to think about what came next. About who I wanted to be now that everything had changed.
I wasn't David's wife anymore. I wasn't half of a couple, half of a future we'd planned together.
I was just... me.
And maybe that was enough to start with.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
Jess squeezed my shoulder. "That's what best friends are for. Now get back to work before your charge nurse realizes you've been gone for twenty minutes."
I stood up, and for the first time in ten days, I felt something other than numbness.
Not happiness. Not yet. But maybe the beginning of something like hope.