Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
ELENA
The wine bar was a trendy new spot filled with hipster twenty-somethings.
Elena felt out of place in her sensible work clothes.
She checked her phone again. Three new emails from the grant committee, two from the ethics board, and one from Finn with the subject line "Dataset anomalies—urgent?
" The last one made her chest tighten for reasons she didn’t want to analyze.
"Put that phone away, doctor. We’re drinking wine tonight."
Elena looked up to find Laura staring her down. Laura Hunt had the kind of presence that was hard to ignore, with wild red curls that stood out anywhere. Her voice was loud, and her gestures were sweeping.
"Sorry," Elena said, sliding her phone into her bag. "There's just a lot happening with the study right now."
Laura rolled her eyes and signaled the server with a flick of her wrist. "There's always a lot happening with the study. There has been for the past year. That's why we're here, to remember what it feels like to be a person instead of a research machine."
“I’m not a research machine,” Elena said more defensively than she intended. “I’m just… passionate about my work.”
"You're like one week away from turning into that scientist in a wheelchair who talks like a robot. What's his name again?"
"Stephen Hawking..."
“You know how he got like that, right?” Laura’s piercing blue eyes were wide open. This was serious. “Too much science.”
Elena couldn’t help but laugh. The server appeared, a young man covered with tattoos and piercings.
"Two glasses of pinot grigio. Actually, fuck it. Bring the bottle, young man!" Laura exclaimed. Elena held back a laugh at the server’s expression. "And a charcuterie board. And the Brussels sprouts with the honey glaze."
"That’s… a lot of food. I do occasionally find time to eat, you know," Elena said when the server left.
"Protein bars in the lab don't count as meals, darling." Laura leaned forward, elbows on the table, studying Elena. "God, when was the last time we did this? Six weeks ago? Two months?"
"Three months," Elena admitted. "Since that awful art gallery."
"I will never understand art. The major piece was just a man hanging from a wall," Laura finished with a laugh.
“And you couldn’t help yourself. ‘Don’t let go, Rafael!’” Elena remembered with a laugh.
The wine arrived, and they each poured a glass. Laura lifted hers in a toast. "To art." They clinked glasses, and the wine warmed her as she took her first sip. She felt herself exhale for what seemed like the first time in a while.
Elena knew why Laura always insisted on this particular date.
September 15th. Today would have been her thirteenth wedding anniversary.
But five years ago, he left. After an affair.
And now, he wasn’t in her or Miguel’s life at all.
He was in Boston, all the way on the other side of the country.
Since then, they had this tradition. Wine, food, and absolutely no mention of Mateo or what today meant.
Laura's unspoken gift was pretending this was just another girls' night, not an anniversary of a life Elena had dismantled and rebuilt.
"So," Laura began, setting down her glass with purpose, "catch me up. And I swear to God, if you start talking about science, I will attack you."
Elena laughed. "Fine. Miguel's doing well in calculus. He's still giving me the teenage attitude, but we’ve been getting along well."
"That's because he's a mini-you," Laura said, smiling. "How's the yoga class? Still going?"
Elena shook her head. "I haven't gone in a while. I was busy before. Now, with this deadline... there's even less time."
Laura raised an eyebrow. "Maybe with the right hot young instructor..."
The food arrived, saving her from that conversation. Laura dove into distributing portions with the efficiency of someone who'd hosted many dinner parties.
"So, my news," Laura said, spearing a piece of cheese. "Remember that campaign I was pitching to the athletic wear company?”
Elena nodded, recalling the passionate text messages Laura had sent at midnight three weeks ago, outlining her vision.
"They loved it. Signed a two-year contract. I'm hiring two more people next month." Laura's eyes sparkled with genuine joy. "They want me to lead the European expansion next quarter. I’ll spend two weeks in Paris, one in Milan."
"Laura, that's amazing!" Elena reached across the table to squeeze her friend's hand. "You've worked so hard for this."
"I know," Laura said, not bothering with modesty. "I'm fucking terrified and thrilled. Mainly thrilled." She popped an olive into her mouth. "What about you? I will allow you to talk about science now."
Elena tried to talk about neuroscience in a way that wouldn’t bore her friend to tears. "Well, we are trying out a new treatment. It’s… a little risky. Paul has been skeptical.”
Laura seemed pleased. “My little trailblazer. I love that for you.” She scanned Elena with narrowed eyes. “I thought you looked different.”
Elena paused, fork halfway to her mouth. "Different how?"
Laura studied her with the sharp eye of someone who'd known her through two degrees, one marriage, one child, one divorce, and countless professional crises. "You’re glowing, Elena. I haven’t seen you like this since before—" She stopped herself.
Laura had almost broken the unwritten rule of this annual ritual.
There was to be no talk about Mateo or the divorce.
"It’s probably just the weather. I love this time of year." Elena said, unable to come up with a better lie.
"Nope." Laura pointed her fork accusingly. "You lie like shit, woman." She narrowed her eyes. "I can smell it from here… there's something else. Something you're not telling me."
"There's really not," Elena insisted, but the scene from last night played again in her mind.
"Hmm." Laura took another sip of wine, watching Elena over the rim of her glass. "Secrets, secrets…"
Elena rolled her eyes, deflecting. "I'm just busy, Laura. Between the research and Miguel and trying to occasionally sleep, there's not much room for... whatever you're implying."
"I'm not implying anything," Laura said innocently. "I'm stating outright that you're hiding something. But fine, keep your secrets." She refilled their glasses. "Let's talk about your nonexistent dating life instead."
Elena groaned. "Let's absolutely not."
"Honey, you're forty-one, not dead. When was the last time you went on a date? And don't say that faculty mixer where the anthropology professor talked about his fossil collection for forty-five minutes."
"That was not a date," Elena protested. "That was a professional obligation that turned into a nonconsensual date."
"Exactly my point," Laura said triumphantly. "You need to go on an actual date. With a man who doesn't study things that have been buried for millennia."
Elena sighed, pushing her food around her plate. "I don't have time to date, Laura. The grant deadline is getting closer every day, and we're still collecting data. Plus, Miguel needs—"
"Miguel needs a mother who occasionally smiles because she has a life outside of her lab," Laura cut in, gentle but firm. "And you need someone to remind you that you're more than just Dr. Herrera, brilliant neuroscientist and dedicated mother."
The wine was softening Elena’s usual defenses. She took another sip, letting the warmth spread through her chest. "I wouldn't even know where to start," she admitted. "The dating apps are horrifying, and I don't exactly meet eligible men while running between the lab and Miguel's school."
"What about at work?" Laura asked, her tone casual. "Any interesting colleagues? Attractive janitors with hidden depths?"
Elena's mind conjured Finn again. She thought about his hands on her waist, and the hungry look in his eyes. No. She shut down the thought just as quickly as it came. He was brilliant and interesting and also completely off-limits.
"No," she said firmly, as much to herself as to Laura. "No one at work."
Laura's eyes narrowed, and Elena knew she'd hesitated a beat too long. "That was interesting."
"What was?" Elena asked, attempting to feign innocence.
"That little journey your face just took," Laura said, leaning forward. "Care to share with the class?"
"There was no journey," Elena insisted. "Just me realizing how pathetic it is that I can't think of a single dateable person in my entire professional sphere."
Laura studied her for a long moment, then seemed to decide not to push. "Well, lucky for you, I think I know someone. You remember Jessica from the book club we used to go to?”
“A woman?”
“No, a hot man. I ran into Jessica recently, and she mentioned a single friend of hers.”
Elena suppressed a groan. "Laura, no."
"Laura, yes," her friend countered, already pulling out her phone. "His name is David, works in healthcare. Maybe he can relate to some of the struggles you’ve been having lately. Shared misery can be a great bonding tool.”
"I just don’t think I have time for this," Elena muttered.
Laura ignored her, scrolling through her phone. "Here he is."
She slid her phone across the table. On the screen was a photo of a handsome man in his early forties, with neat dark hair and a distinguished smile. She had to admit…he was attractive. A good bone structure, decent suit, pleasant features. The kind of man Elena should find appealing.
She felt nothing. No spark, no curiosity, not even a flicker of interest. "He's... nice-looking," she offered lamely, sliding the phone back.
"Nice-looking?" Laura echoed incredulously. "Elena, he looks like Jon Hamm you son of a bitch!” Laura’s booming voice and sailor mouth was beginning to draw the attention of pretty much everyone populating this city block.
Elena could feel strangers’ eyes all over them. “Laura, please modulate your voice.”
“Modulate? I don’t even know what that means, Miss Science.”
“I’m just saying. Other people exist.”
Laura scoffed. “Yes. But we’re more fun. And your love life is important!”
Elena shrugged, swirling her wine. "I'm sure he's lovely. I just don’t know if I’m ready yet."
"Elena..." Laura's voice softened, and Elena knew she was about to break their unspoken rule. "It's been five years since Mateo left, and you've barely dated."
This was true. Elena had focused on two things since Mateo left: her career and Miguel.
There was no energy left for anyone else.
And lately, she was afraid she didn't even have enough for those two things.
It hurt to think about the time she was sacrificing with Miguel because of the new deadline.
"I thought the number one rule was that we don't say his name or talk about him," Elena said, her voice tight.
"Sometimes rules need to be broken," Laura said. "Especially when my best friend is letting life pass her by."
Elena stared into her wine glass. Why didn't she feel any interest in this objectively suitable man? David checked all the logical boxes: age-appropriate, successful, stable. Meanwhile, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about a five-minute dance with her research assistant.
"One dinner," Laura pressed, sensing weakness. "Just a couple of hours of adult conversation with a handsome man who can discuss something besides brain waves."
"I talk about other things," Elena protested weakly.
"Name three topics you've discussed this week that weren't work or Miguel-related."
Elena opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"Exactly," Laura said triumphantly. "Look, I'm not saying marry the guy. Just have dinner. If it's terrible, you never have to see him again, and I'll stop bugging you about dating for at least three months."
"Six months," Elena countered.
"Four,” Laura offered, extending her hand.
Elena sighed, recognizing the futility of further resistance. "Fine. One dinner. But I'm holding you to that."
Laura grinned, eyes gleaming with victory. "Deal. I'll set it up for next week. Friday night work for you?"
Elena nodded, already regretting her capitulation. "As long as it's after seven. I have participant interviews until six."
"Perfect," Laura said, signaling for the check. "And wear that burgundy wrap dress, the one with the drapey front. It makes your boobs look fantastic."
"Laura!" Elena hissed, glancing around to see if anyone had heard.
Laura just laughed, unrepentant. "What? It's a scientific fact. And science is your religion, Dr. Herrera."
As they gathered their things to leave, Elena thought again of Finn again.
Of the way his eyes had followed her in the lab that morning, carefully avoiding direct contact.
Of how quiet he'd been when she mentioned dinner plans.
Of how, for just a moment as they danced, she'd felt something awaken in her that had been dormant for years.
But that was a dangerous path, one she couldn't afford to walk. David was the sensible choice. The safe choice. Even if the thought of sitting across from him left her feeling nothing at all.
"Stop overthinking," Laura said, linking her arm through Elena's as they stepped outside. "It's just dinner, not a marriage proposal."
Elena smiled, leaning into her friend's solid presence. "I know. Thanks for looking out for me."
"Always," Laura said, squeezing her arm. "Even when you're being stubborn and work-obsessed and refusing to admit there's something you're not telling me."
Elena laughed, the sound easier now after two glasses of wine and genuine connection. "I've missed you."
"Well, stop missing me and start seeing me more than once a quarter," Laura said. "Miguel isn't the only one who needs you to be a whole person, you know."
As they parted ways at the street corner, Elena's phone buzzed in her bag. She pulled it out to find a new message from Finn: "Progress on the anomalies. Can review when you're back. No rush. Hope dinner is going well."
She stared at the text, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with wine and everything to do with the fact that he'd been thinking about her, even as he continued working alone. "Thanks, will check in tomorrow.”
She pressed send, put her phone away, and tried not to think about why a simple text from her research assistant made her feel more alive than the prospect of dinner with a suitable man her own age.
Some questions were better left unexamined.