Chapter 10
REID
With a full calendar, I had no choice but to return to the office on Monday morning. It had only been three days since Lila had walked out, but the building felt different as I walked through the lobby. The atmosphere was almost heavier somehow.
Dozens of unread emails filled my inbox. I’d only been here for fifteen minutes, but several associates lingered just outside my door, waiting for a chance to catch me between tasks. My phone buzzed with messages and calendar reminders.
I looked around my office with new eyes. For the first time, I truly saw how much of my attention and energy I had poured into work above everything else.
I used to walk in here and feel in control. Today, it felt like sitting in the middle of the thing I’d let consume my life. My partnership was part of why I had minimized Lila’s feelings. I had put work before her without even realizing how much space the firm was taking from us.
My eyes landed on the framed photo of us. I stared at it for a long moment, the ache in my chest deepening.
Then the door opened without a knock, and Kaylee walked in carrying a cup of coffee.
“Here you go.” She set it on the desk in front of me, then perched on the edge of my desk, crossing her legs and smiling. “Figured you might need this since Monday mornings can be rough.”
I saw the whole interaction with fresh eyes—the easy assumption that she could walk in unannounced and insert herself into my morning. I only had the casual familiarity I had allowed to become normal to blame for it.
Lila hadn’t been overreacting. I had just kept dismissing what was right in front of me.
Then another uncomfortable realization settled over me. Other employees were noticing too. I caught my assistant glancing into the office with a slightly awkward expression as she walked past. Marcus paused outside my door before quickly moving on.
It seemed as though everyone had seen what was going on except me. My discomfort grew as I realized how deliberately blind I’d been.
“Kaylee, I’d prefer you didn’t sit there,” I muttered. “I have work to do.”
She blinked, clearly caught off guard, then slid off the edge and stood. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t answer her question. Instead, I picked up the coffee cup and held it out to her. “And I don’t need this.”
“Umm, sorry. I was just trying to do something nice for you.” She took the coffee from me, shifting her weight awkwardly.
I didn’t let her discomfiture stop me from saying what needed to be said. “Kaylee, moving forward, you will no longer be assigned directly to me. Responsibilities are being redistributed among the team. All communication from now on needs to remain strictly professional.”
She let out a startled laugh, clearly expecting me to be joking. When I didn’t smile back, her expression faltered.
“That doesn’t make any sense. What changed between now and Friday?” She shook her head, her brows drawing together. “We literally just had a celebratory lunch with Ryder. You told me I did a great job. And now I’m not working with you anymore?”
Ignoring her questions, I continued, “You’ll hear from someone with HR today about your new assignment.”
“Wait, is this because of your fiancée?” she asked, planting her free hand on her hip. “Did she get the wrong idea about us? Because sometimes people read more into things than they should, but I was only joking around when I called myself your work wife. It wasn’t anything serious.”
I clenched my jaw hard enough that my teeth hurt as the caption on that damn post flashed through my head.
Work hubby.
I'd thought seeing it online had been the first time Kaylee had used a term like that, but now I realized there had been similar comments in passing. Small jokes I’d paid no attention to because everyone in the office seemed to treat phrases like work wife as harmless slang.
But whether Lila had heard them or not, I should've stopped it long before now.
“This isn’t about intentions. It’s about boundaries that should have been in place already.”
I should have enforced them sooner, but there was no going back and making better decisions. I could only do better from now on. Make changes to ensure nothing like this ever happened again.
Kaylee’s face tightened for a brief second, something harder flashing across her expression before it smoothed away. Then she gave a curt nod and left my office without another word.
I stared at the now-empty space where she had been sitting, filled with the realization that I hadn’t protected my relationship. I had allowed things I shouldn’t have, over and over, convincing myself they were harmless. I’d chosen the path of least resistance instead of Lila’s happiness.
But owning the decisions I’d made and the damage they had caused wasn’t enough.
Picking up the phone, I dialed Julian’s number. He picked up on the first ring. “Hayes.”
“Do you have some time to meet with me this morning?”
“Which case is this about?” he asked.
I raked my fingers through my hair as I admitted, “It’s a staffing issue.”
“I’m free now,” he offered.
“On my way.”
Walking into his office, I felt none of my usual confidence. This was usually my territory, where I negotiated deals and argued cases. Instead, discomfort settled heavy in my chest. This time, I was here to admit I had made a series of errors in judgment.
Julian leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows raised. “What’s going on, Hawthorne?”
I sat down and met his eyes. “I need Kaylee reassigned to another team, effective immediately.”
He looked surprised. “You recently gave her a glowing review. Said she was efficient, organized, and great with clients. Has she made a mistake of some kind that I need to know about?”
“Kaylee is competent.” I shook my head. “This isn’t a disciplinary issue, and I’m not here to blame her. I allowed professional boundaries to become too casual. I became too comfortable with interruptions and overfamiliarity. I should have recognized and corrected course with her much sooner.”
Julian studied me for a moment, then pushed back. “From an outside perspective, nothing catastrophic happened. Paralegals and attorneys often become friendly while working long hours together.”
“And unfortunately, lines can become blurred.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and pulled up Kaylee’s photo before turning the screen toward him. “Which sometimes ends in posts like this.”
He took the phone from me to read the caption and scroll through some of the comments. “I’m beginning to understand the problem.”
“If only it was that simple.” He handed me the phone as I added, “The issue was that my fiancée repeatedly told me she was uncomfortable, and instead of listening, I dismissed her concerns because I assumed I knew better. I spent weeks explaining away things that should have made me stop and reevaluate. It was a serious miscalculation on my part.”
Julian studied me for a moment. “You’re being hard on yourself.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Not nearly hard enough.”
“Did your fiancée leave?”
My admission was soft. “Yeah.”
“Over this?”
“I don’t think it was just about Kaylee for Lila.” I heaved a deep sigh. “More because I repeatedly made her feel like her feelings didn’t matter.”
“Can’t help with that.” Julian leaned back in his chair. “But I’ll reassign Kaylee today.”
“Thanks.” I slid my phone back in my pocket. “I appreciate it, especially since I lost my patience and already let her know she wasn’t on my team anymore, right before I called you.”
Julian shook his head with a wry chuckle. “Then I guess I’ll get right on that.”
After thanking him, I got up and walked out, feeling strange. I had assumed that admitting I was wrong to Julian would’ve felt harder than winning any argument ever had. But he hadn’t judged me too harshly, which made the whole thing easier.
I headed back to my office, relieved that the conversation with him was over.
When I sat down to dive back into my workload, a new email from the therapist’s office popped up.
My shoulders tensed as I opened it, only to find that it confirmed my appointment for Wednesday and asked me to fill out some initial paperwork.
It felt significant. Like the first real step I had taken that was more than just regret.
Out of pure habit, I reached for my phone to call Lila and tell her about it. The motion stopped me cold.
She was my person. The one I wanted to share things with. But I had pushed her away.
I dialed her number anyway. It went straight to voicemail, as I assumed it would.
I left a message, keeping it simple. “I’ll try to keep the calls and texts to a minimum. I get that you need space, and I don’t want to intrude too much. But I wanted to let you know that I understand you were asking me to protect us. I should’ve done that. I’m sorry.”
I ended the call and set the phone down, staring at the screen until it went dark. Not because I actually thought she’d call back. But some part of me still hoped she would.