Courtney: Present Day

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I WATCHED JACE’S DEPOSITION for what had to be the hundredth time this week—pausing it each time he got to the part where I left him at the train station with his yearbook. I had no idea he was working three jobs to support himself back then, no idea that he was struggling with loneliness as much as me.

“So, Courtney...” he said, in the final minute of the tape. “If you’re watching this tape, I just want you to know that this was how things looked from my point of view all those years ago, and that to this day, you’re still my only love and first heartbreak.” He smiled. “But if it’s okay with you, after you tell me your side of things, I’d like us to move on and start over whenever you’re ready. I let you leave me once, but I’m not going to do it again. I love you.” He winks at me and then the tape ends.

I replayed the entire thing—all thirty minutes of it, one last time.

Then I picked up my phone and called Jace.

“Yes, Courtney?” he answered on the first ring. 

“Congratulations on winning the case.”

“You told me that three hours ago.”

“I know, but I hadn’t seen any of the pictures yet.” I picked up this morning’s edition of The New York Times from my nightstand and smile at yesterday’s picture of him and Mr. Walton walking outside of the small county’s courthouse. “You were supposed to send me pictures of the celebratory party from last night.”

“I told you I didn’t go to that.” There was a smile in his voice. “I was too busy talking to you the whole damn time.”

“Oh, right.” I paused. “How does it feel to win your clients eighty million?”

“Eighty million? You mean Eight hundred million?” He laughed. “I guess it feels okay since I’ll be getting fifty of it.”

“Will you share it?”

“I’ll think about it. Have you finished watching my deposition tape yet?”

“Your tape?” I smiled. “You mean the ones for the new Lawson case?”

“I mean the one that you clearly watched half of because you left me fifteen voicemails about your side of the story last night. The one that you must’ve been watching all this weekend on repeat.”

“You don’t know me.”

He laughed. “I understand why you felt the way you did, but I’d prefer if we finished this conversation in person. I’ll bring you lunch after I stop by the firm. Mr. Walton said he wanted to see me in his office as I soon as I landed in New York, so I’m on my way there right now. See you soon.”

“See you soon.” I ended the call and picked up my files for the newest case. I was about three minutes in, when Jace’s words hit me.

He wanted to see me in his office as soon as I landed in New York...

I looked at the calendar on my phone. Today was a Friday. The last Friday of the month that was almost always a fire-day.

Is he seriously going to fire Jace after all the money he’s just made?

I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I grabbed my umbrella from my headboard and leaned over my bed, hooking the handle of it on my wheelchair. I took my time moving from the bed, down my inflatable ramp, and into the chair.

Wheeling myself into my closet, I wrapped my neck in two scarves and stuck my arms through a coat backwards since there was no help.

I made my way to the elevator and straight down to the lobby.

“Miss Ryan?” The doorman stepped in front of me when I made it to the sidewalk. “Mr. Kennedy has made it perfectly clear that you’re not supposed to leave the building by yourself.”

“I’m not.” I motioned for my town car driver to help me and he opened the backdoor, slowly helping me onto the backseat. “See? He brought the SUV specifically for my wheelchair.”

The driver shook his head at me as he secured it. “If Mr. Walton or Mr. Kennedy asks, I wasn’t involved in this.” He shut the door and navigated the car through New York’s snow streets, and when we arrived at the firm, he helped me out of the car and into the elevator.

“Miss Ryan?” Mr. Walton’s secretary gasped as I wheeled my way into the office. “Mr. Walton said you weren’t supposed to come in for another month or so.”

“Is he in his office right now?”

“He is, but—”

I didn’t wait to hear the rest of her sentence. I rolled my ass right into Mr. Walton’s office—right in front of his desk.

“What is it with you and Fridays, Mr. Walton?” I asked, blushing when I realized Jace was sitting in the room already. “I know it’s none of my business and that Jace totally flubbed a line in his closing monologue—he said instrumental instead of detrimental, but he’s won one of the biggest class action lawsuits in the state. Why is he in here on a Friday?”

He blinked. Then he stood up from his desk and laughed, walking over to Jace.

“Well, well, well, Mr. Kennedy.” He opened the door to his office. “Who knew you could predict the fact that she would try to show up today? I’ll be right back with the town car driver so you can go back home where you belong, Miss Ryan. Then we’ll finish our conversation.”

He winked and Jace laughed at me.

“Me saving you from getting fired is funny?”

“I wasn’t getting fired,” he said. “I’m quitting.”

“What? Already?” I shook my head. “You just started.”

“I did, but there’s a huge conflict of interest with someone who has an office right across from me.” He smiled, trailing his finger against my lips. “Dating is a blatant violation of this firm’s rules. It’s also why they’re the best in New York.”

“So, you’re leaving me?”

“Not you,” he said. “Just the firm. I’ll still be living next door to you until you decide to move in with me, somewhere else.”

“You’re saying that as if it’s a given and not a question.”

“Based on all your voicemails, I think I’m right to assume that you want to start ‘us’ again just like I do.”

“I also feel like I need you to accept my apology for how I treated you,” I said. “I had no idea about everything you were going through back then. I’m sorry.”

“I accept, but I’m sorry, too,” he said. “We were young so we didn’t know any better. Now we do.”

“Well, I only want to start ‘us’ again if it’ll feel the same.”

“It won’t.” He leaned close and kissed my lips until I couldn’t breathe. “It’ll feel better.”