Chapter 12 Emma
THREE YEARS LATER
"Mrs. Schultz, I need you to take a deep breath for me."
The woman in the exam room was hyperventilating, hands gripping the edges of the table. Panic attack, probably triggered by the abnormal mammogram results her doctor had sent her to discuss. I'd seen it four times this week alone.
I pulled up a chair and sat down at her eye level. I wasn’t standing over her, I wasn’t rushing. Just present.
"In through your nose," I said, demonstrating. "Hold it for four counts. Out through your mouth. Can you do that with me?"
She nodded, tears streaming down her face, and tried to match my breathing.
We sat there for three minutes, breathing together, until her hands stopped shaking and her shoulders dropped.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I just… when they said I needed to see the nurse practitioner, I thought…"
"It's okay," I said. "That's a completely normal reaction. But I want you to know that an abnormal mammogram doesn't automatically mean cancer. There are a lot of reasons for a callback, and most of them are benign. We're going to walk through this together, okay?"
She nodded again, wiping her eyes.
I spent the next twenty minutes explaining the next steps, answering her questions, making sure she understood everything before she left. When she finally stood to go, she hugged me.
"Thank you," she said. "You made this so much less scary."
"That's what I'm here for."
After she left, I updated her chart and checked the time. 4:30 PM. Two more patients, then I was done for the day.
I loved this. All of it. The patient interactions, the autonomy, the feeling that I was actually making a difference instead of just following orders. Being an NP was everything I'd hoped it would be.
My phone buzzed. A text from Jess.
Dinner tonight? That Thai place you like? I have GOSSIP.
I smiled and texted back:
7 PM? I'm intrigued.
Perfect. Prepare yourself.
I finished up with my last two patients (a routine physical and a follow-up for high blood pressure) and signed off for the day. The sun was still out when I left the office, one of those perfect spring evenings where everything felt possible.
I stopped at the farmers market on my way home. Picked up fresh vegetables, a loaf of sourdough, some flowers for my kitchen table. Simple things that made my apartment feel like home.
My apartment. Not huge, but mine. One bedroom in a quiet neighborhood, hardwood floors, good natural light.
I'd painted the walls myself: a soft gray in the living room, pale blue in the bedroom.
Hung artwork I actually liked instead of the generic prints David and I had picked out together because they matched the couch.
I had a couch I'd chosen. Dishes I'd picked out. A life I'd built from scratch.
And I was proud of it.
I was walking down the sidewalk, canvas bag full of vegetables, when I saw him.
David.
He was coming out of a coffee shop half a block ahead, laptop bag over his shoulder, looking down at his phone. He hadn't seen me yet.
My heart jumped, but not the way it used to. Not with that sick, twisting panic. Just surprise. The shock of seeing someone you used to know in a place you didn't expect them.
He looked different. Thinner, maybe. His hair was shorter. He was wearing jeans and a button-down instead of a suit, and he looked... tired. But not the exhausted, falling-apart tired he'd had the last time I'd seen him. Just normal tired. End-of-the-workday tired.
He glanced up from his phone and saw me.
We both stopped walking.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Just stood there on the sidewalk, ten feet apart, staring at each other like we'd both seen a ghost.
Then David took a step forward. Stopped. He looked like he was deciding whether to speak or walk away.
"Emma," he said finally. His voice was quieter than I remembered. "Hi."
I shifted the canvas bag to my other arm. "David. Hi."
The silence stretched between us. People walked past on either side. A woman with a stroller, two teenagers on skateboards, life continuing like nothing significant was happening. Which, I guess, it wasn't.
"You look..." He cleared his throat. "You look really good. How are you?"
"I'm well. Busy." I kept my voice neutral and polite. The tone you'd use with an old coworker you ran into at the grocery store.
His eyes flicked to the badge clipped to my bag. The one I always forgot to take off after work.
Riverview Women's Health
Emma Peterson, NP-C.
"You finished the program." It wasn't quite a question.
"Two years ago. I'm working in women's health now." I didn't elaborate. Didn't ask how he knew I'd applied.
"That's…" He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I remembered. "That's really great, Emma. You always deserved that. I'm glad you…" He stopped himself. "I'm glad things worked out."
I nodded. What was I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I did it without you? It worked out because you left?
"I have my own practice now," he said, filling the awkward silence. "Small stuff. Family law, mostly. Some pro bono work." He shifted his laptop bag. "It's not... it's nothing like before, but it's honest work. I'm trying to…" He stopped again, seeming to realize he was oversharing. "Anyway. Yeah."
"That's good," I said. And meant it, sort of. It was good that he'd landed somewhere, and that he wasn't completely destroyed. I could be generous enough to want that for him.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Jess: You still coming? I'm already here and I ordered the spring rolls because I have NO IMPULSE CONTROL.
I smiled despite myself.
"I actually have dinner plans," I said, putting my phone away. "I should go."
Something flickered across David's face. Disappointment, maybe. Or just acknowledgement.
"Of course. Yeah." He took a step back. "It was good to see you, Emma. Really."
"Take care, David."
I walked past him, my canvas bag bumping against my hip, the flowers poking out of the top. I didn't look back. Didn't need to.
Behind me, I heard him say something else. Maybe my name, maybe just my imagination… but I kept walking.
My heart was beating faster by the time I reached my car.
It wasn’t panic. It wasn’t that sick, twisting feeling I'd had for months after he left. Just... adrenaline. The physical response to an unexpected encounter. My body reacting before my brain could catch up and say, It's fine. You're fine.
I loaded the groceries into my trunk and sat in the driver's seat for a moment, hands on the steering wheel, breathing.
David.
Three years. Three years since I'd kicked him out, since I'd signed the divorce papers, since I'd blocked his number and rebuilt my entire life from scratch.
And now he was just... there. Walking out of a coffee shop.
Looking tired and smaller somehow, like the man I'd married had been hollowed out and replaced with someone who just wore his face.
I'd imagined running into him before. Played out the scenario in my head during those first brutal months. What I'd say. How I'd react. Whether I'd be cold or angry or devastatingly indifferent.
But now that it had actually happened, I felt... nothing.
No rage. No grief. No bitter satisfaction at seeing him brought low.
Just... nothing.
He was someone I used to know. Someone who'd hurt me, yes. Someone who'd shaped my life in ways both terrible and necessary. But not someone who had power over me anymore.
I started the car and drove to the restaurant.
Jess had commandeered a booth in the back and was already three spring rolls deep by the time I arrived.
"There you are!" She waved a spring roll at me. "I was starting to think you'd stood me up for vegetables."
I slid into the booth across from her. "Sorry. Got held up."
"By what? An exceptionally persuasive eggplant?" She grinned, then stopped when she saw my face. "Wait. What happened?"
"Nothing bad," I said quickly. "I just… Well, I, huh, ran into David. On the street. Outside that coffee shop on Walnut."
Jess's eyes went wide. "What?" She set down the spring roll. "Like, David David? Your ex-husband David?"
"That's the one."
"Oh my god." She leaned forward. "Are you okay? What did he say? Do I need to kill him? I will kill him, Emma. I have access to very sharp medical instruments."
Despite everything, I laughed. "I'm fine. Really. It was weird, but... fine."
"Define fine." Jess was studying my face with that particular intensity that came from years of friendship and medical training. "Are you going into shock? Do you need a paper bag? Should I order you something stronger than Thai iced tea?"
"Jess." I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I promise. I'm okay."
She squeezed back, then settled into her seat, still watching me carefully. "Okay. Tell me everything. What did he look like? Did he grovel? Please tell me he groveled."
"He looked..." I thought about it. "Tired. Thinner. He was wearing jeans instead of a suit. And he has his own practice now, apparently. Family law. Pro bono work."
Jess raised an eyebrow. "Pro bono? Mr. I-Need-to-Make-Partner-by-Thirty-Three is doing pro bono work?"
"That's what he said."
"Huh." She picked up her spring roll again, chewing thoughtfully. "Did he try to, like, reconnect? Ask you out for coffee? Pull any of that 'I've changed' bullshit?"
"No. He just... we talked for maybe three minutes. He asked how I was. Noticed my badge. I told him about the NP thing. He told me about his practice. Then I said I had dinner plans and left."
"And how did you feel?"
I paused, trying to find the right words. "Like I was talking to someone I used to know. Like running into an old coworker or something. It was strange but... not devastating. Not anything, really."
Jess studied my face for a long moment, then smiled. "You're really over him."
"Yeah." I smiled back. "I really am."
"Good." She raised her glass. "Because that man doesn't deserve a single second more of your emotional energy. Now, can we talk about my gossip? Because I did not drive across town in rush hour traffic to discuss your boring ex-husband."
"Please. What's the gossip?"
"Okay, so you know Connor, right? Sebastian's friend, the engineer you went on like three dates with last year?"
"Vaguely. We didn't really click."
"Right, well, he's been asking about you again. Apparently he just got back from a year in Seattle and wants to know if you're seeing anyone." She waggled her eyebrows. "Should I tell him you're available?"
I thought about it. Connor had been nice. A little boring, maybe, but nice. Stable. The kind of guy who texted when he said he would and didn't have any secret affair partners.
"Sure," I said. "Why not?"
"Really?" Jess looked surprised. "I was expecting you to say you're too busy with work or some other excuse."
"I am busy with work," I said. "But that doesn't mean I can't go on a date. Give him my number."
Jess pulled out her phone immediately. "Oh, I'm doing this right now before you change your mind. This is happening."
I laughed and picked up the menu, scanning the familiar options. Pad Thai. Green curry. Drunken noodles.
I thought of David again for a split second, but he was just a blip. A ghost from my past that I'd run into and barely registered. He didn't get to take up space in my head anymore. Didn't get to disrupt my dinner plans or make me feel anything I didn't want to feel.
I'd built this life without him. I was proud of it.
And running into him hadn't changed any of that.
Later, after I'd gotten home and unpacked the groceries and arranged the flowers in a vase on my kitchen table, I stood in my apartment and just... looked around.
At the couch I'd picked out. The artwork on the walls. The running shoes by the door. The textbooks from my NP program still on the shelf because I couldn't quite bring myself to pack them away… they felt like trophies.
And to think that three years ago, I'd been sobbing on a bathroom floor. Destroyed. Broken. Unable to imagine a future that didn't include the man I'd given up everything for.
And now?
Now I had this. My own space. My own career. My own life that I'd built brick by brick, choice by choice, run by run, until I'd become someone I was proud to be.
Someone who could run into her ex-husband on the street and feel... nothing.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
Unknown number.
I picked it up, a sliver of me half-expecting it to be David. Some follow-up text. Some attempt to explain or reconnect or…
But it wasn't.
Emma, this is Connor. Jess gave me your number. I know it's been a while, but I'm back in town and I'd love to take you to dinner if you're interested. No pressure. Just thought I'd ask. Hope you're doing well.
I smiled and typed back:
Hi Connor. I'd like that. Saturday work for you?
His response came almost immediately:
Saturday's perfect. I'll text you tomorrow with details. Really glad you said yes.
Me too.
I set my phone down and walked to my bedroom. Changed into pajamas. Washed my face. Brushed my teeth.
Normal things. A normal night.
I climbed into bed and turned off the light. The apartment was quiet, just the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic outside.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep in minutes.