Chapter 4

The online interview on Saturday morning lasted an hour and a half.

Serena didn't waste any time. She said they weren't after another litigator; what they really needed was someone who could lead a team and take charge of tough commercial cases.

I sent over my case list from the past three years.

There was a long silence on the other end of the screen.

When Serena spoke again, her tone was noticeably more serious. "Ms. Ryan, with a resume like yours, you should already be on track for partner at your current firm."

I stared at my own face on the screen.

I'd only gotten four hours of sleep last night, and no amount of concealer could hide the dark circles under my eyes.

"The review process at my current firm doesn't really fit with my plans for the future," I said.

Serena gave a small smile and didn't press further.

Every lawyer got the subtext.

After the interview, I got a text from my mom.

She sent me a photo.

The jasmine on our balcony in Southgate was blooming. Tiny white flowers nestled in the green leaves, right next to that old clay pot I used to grow plants in back in high school.

Mom asked: [Busy today? Your dad bought some ribs and keeps mentioning how you used to love sweet and sour ribs when you were little.]

I stared at the photo, my finger lingering on the screen for a long time.

Southgate was just over four hours by high-speed train from Capital City.

It had been ages since I'd been back.

The last time my parents came to Capital City was to meet Edward.

That was back when Edward and I had been together for six years.

He said that going public with our relationship before I made junior partner would hurt my chances at the firm.

But as my parents got older and I kept bringing him up in our calls, my mom finally couldn't hold back anymore. She just had to meet him.

Edward and I spent half a month going back and forth before we finally settled on a dinner date.

I booked the restaurant three weeks in advance.

My dad made sure to wear a shirt, and my mom tried on three different scarves in the hotel room, worried she'd look too formal or not formal enough.

They asked what Edward liked to eat, and I told him he preferred light flavors.

So my dad quietly crossed off the braised pork he'd originally wanted to order and went with steamed fish instead.

At six thirty, Edward still hadn't shown up.

He said he had a last-minute client meeting and promised he'd be done by seven.

At seven thirty, he still wasn't picking up.

At eight, the waiter came by for the third time to see if we wanted to start.

My mom smiled and said, "Go ahead and serve the food. Young people are always busy with work. Let's start eating while we wait for him."

I sat alone in the private room, sending message after message to Edward: [Where are you?

[My parents are already here.

[Edward, please answer me.]

Each message disappeared into the void, unanswered.

By nine forty, the food had gone cold, been reheated, and gone cold again.

My dad gave me a piece of fish, carefully picking out the bones. "This one's tender. Here, have some."

My throat felt tight, but I forced a smile. "He's probably still in a meeting. Phones are always on silent at the firm."

My mom looked at me, not saying anything.

That night, they never got to meet Edward.

When I walked them back to the hotel, my mom gently took my hand in the elevator. "Sophie."

I rushed to reassure her. "Mom, he's not usually like this. Something urgent must've come up today."

My mom looked at my reflection in the elevator door.

"You've always been stubborn, even when you fell and said it didn't hurt. But I can always tell when you're hurting," Mom said.

My eyes stung with tears.

My dad stood nearby, holding the takeout, his voice a little awkward. "There are good law firms in Southgate too. If you ever want to come back, your room's always waiting for you."

I lowered my head and said, "Dad, I'm doing fine in Capital City."

Dad didn't push it any further.

The next morning, I walked them to the train station from the hotel.

Just before they boarded, Mom slipped a bank card into my bag.

"Don't try to carry everything on your own. If work gets rough, or your relationship isn't going well, there's always home. Don't let your life turn into a verdict," she said.

I teased her about the strange metaphor.

Once the train was gone, I checked my feed.

Lily had shared a photo.

Her mom was sitting up in a hospital bed, and Edward was at her side, peeling an apple.

The caption was short. [So glad you're here.]

That was the moment I realized where Edward had been that night.

When I got back, I blew up at him.

To be honest, it was me arguing by myself.

Edward explained that Lily's mom had a sudden case of acute cholecystitis. With no relatives in Capital City, Lily was completely at a loss. As her supervisor, he couldn't walk away and leave her to handle it alone.

I asked him why he hadn't replied to my texts.

He said he was busy signing the surgery forms, paying the bills, and finding a caregiver. He didn't have a chance to check his phone.

I pressed him, "My parents waited for you the whole night. Does that not matter?"

He said, "Sophie, some things are more urgent."

I smashed the glass from the table onto the floor.

The shards scattered everywhere, and Edward shot me a disapproving look.

"You're too upset right now. We'll talk later," he said.

With that, he disappeared into the study.

I stood outside the door, knocking again and again.

My hand started to ache, but all I could hear inside was the steady clacking of his keyboard.

After that night, Edward sent my parents a gift and called them to apologize, saying he'd come by to make it up to them another time.

But that "another time" never came.

My phone screen went dark, and that's when I finally snapped back to reality.

My mom sent me another message: [What happened to your hand? I saw the photos from your firm's holiday party last night. Don't try to brush me off.]

I opened the photo she'd forwarded.

At the holiday party, Edward was shielding Lily, while I stood a little ways off, blood running down the back of my hand.

The photo was a little blurry in the corner, but it was enough for my mom to catch on.

I typed: [It's just a small injury, already taken care of.]

But after a moment's hesitation, I deleted the message.

Instead, I called her.

She answered almost instantly.

She didn't ask about Edward, or about the girl in the photo.

She said, "Does it hurt?"

Those words landed, and suddenly I couldn't find my voice.

Mom sighed on the other end. "Come home for dinner this weekend. Your dad's been flipping through your old photos, but he keeps saying it's just because he accidentally opened them on his phone."

I glanced at the resignation handover plan sitting on my desk.

"Mom, I think I'm really coming back to Southgate this time," I said.

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

Then my mom let out a soft laugh. "I'll have your dad freeze the ribs so we can make them when you get home."

I lowered my head, and tears splashed onto my keyboard.

No one asked me why.

No one made me prove how much I'd been through before I was allowed to come home.

That afternoon, I went to the office.

It was quiet on the weekend, with only half the lights on.

My desk was buried under stacks of files, just like every hectic weekend for the past eight years.

I started making a list of all the cases I was handling: client names, case stages, key risks, lead attorneys, and the next deadlines.

When I got to the Evermark Case, I stopped for a moment.

It was the most important case of the year. The very project Edward once promised would secure my promotion to partner.

It was still important.

But now, it no longer meant a shot at that title.

At seven that evening, Serena sent me a message: [We're very interested in you. If you're seriously considering Southgate, we can discuss the terms further.]

I replied: [I'll give you a clear answer within two weeks.]

After sending it, I opened my handover plan.

At the top of the first page, I wrote down my expected departure date.

One month from now.

At the Monday morning meeting, Edward was five minutes late.

That was rare.

When he walked into the conference room, Lily was already projecting a client retention plan onto the screen.

"Fusion Corp is planning to expand their brand overseas next quarter. I think we can make our legal services warmer, with a more human touch, so clients don't feel so intimidated by lawyers," she said.

Someone from the M&A team lowered their head, trying to stifle a laugh.

As soon as Edward sat down, the room went quiet.

Lily glanced at him and continued, "For example, we could make things like birthday wishes, company anniversaries, and milestone greetings part of our routine.

"Last time Mr. Grant took me to meet Mr. Ford from Fusion Corp, I noticed they're really into this sort of thing."

I flipped through the court schedule in my hands, not looking up.

If it had been anyone else presenting this kind of client retention plan, Edward would probably have gone straight to asking about the budget, conversion rates, and who was responsible.

But this time, he just listened and asked only two questions.

Lily kind of fumbled her answers.

He finished for her, "Retaining brand clients isn't just about delivering professional work. Someone needs to keep providing emotional value. Let's run a pilot program for this, with Lily leading the way."

Some folks in the room shot each other knowing looks.

I scratched off a task for the Evermark Case from my list.

After the morning meeting, everyone started to leave.

Edward called out to me, "Sophie, can you stay for a moment?"

Lily lingered, taking her time packing up her laptop.

Edward glanced at her. "Go ahead."

Lily pressed her lips together and nodded. "Okay."

After the door closed, I hugged the folder to my chest.

Edward didn't sit back down at the head of the table. Instead, he stood at the window, gazing outside.

From the twenty-seventh floor, the Capital City CBD sprawled below. A dense forest of glass towers shimmering with cold light.

He said, "You've been avoiding me these past few days."

"I've been swamped with work," I replied.

"The driver said you didn't go to the hospital," he said.

"The wound's already healed," I replied.

He turned to face me. "Sophie, do we really have to talk like this?"

I stayed silent.

Edward pressed his fingers to his brow, as if he was finally swallowing his frustration.

"The decision's made, but it's not a definite no. I'll nominate you again in six months, and I'll talk to Serena about it.

"As for Lily, she's only got a development spot, not a full partner. You really don't need to take this so hard," he said.

I tightened my grip on the folder.

The corners of the pages dug into my palm, a dull ache spreading there. "Anything else?"

Edward frowned. "Don't you have anything you want to ask me?"

"Ask what?" I replied.

"Why I recommended her, why I didn't talk to you about it first, or if I have feelings for her," he said, his tone growing heavier. "You used to ask me these things."

So that was what he was waiting for.

He wanted me to open up to him again, like I used to. Hoping for answers that would never come.

My eyes drifted to the coffee stain on the conference table.

It was the spot where Lily had set her cup earlier, leaving behind a pale ring of coffee.

"I don't need to ask anymore," I said.

Edward's expression shifted. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," I replied.

My answer made him uncomfortable.

He took a few steps closer, lowering his voice. "Sophie, it's okay to have feelings, but don't just freeze me out when there's a problem."

I almost laughed.

That sounded ridiculous coming from him. Almost painful to hear.

For the past seven years, every time I tried to talk things out, he'd brush me off, throw work at me, act all rational, stay cool, or go silent.

Now that I stopped reaching out, he was bothered by the quiet.

I set the folder down on the conference table and pulled out the top sheet.

"This is the team update for the Evermark Case. Tina can take over some of the pre-trial work, and I'll bring her along for the hearing.

"The appeal documents for the Grandwell Case are all set. I'll hand them off to David next week. The NovaRise Case is still ongoing, and I'll update all the client communications in the system," I said.

Edward looked down at the papers.

His expression grew colder. "Are you preparing a handover?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Who told you to do that?" he asked.

"I did," I said.

"Sophie," he said, his voice finally showing clear irritation. "Are you trying to force me to give up the partner spot?"

I looked at him, suddenly feeling drained.

"Edward, I'll submit my resignation this afternoon. I'm starting the handover early so the clients won't be affected," I said.

The conference room went dead silent.

The sound of traffic outside was distant, like waves behind glass.

Edward stared at me, like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, "You're quitting?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Because of the review?" he asked.

"It's about my future," I said.

He managed a smile, but it was empty.

There was no warmth in it.

"You've spent eight years at this firm. Your team, your clients, your referrals. They're all here. You really think leaving over a postponed review is a solid reason?" he asked.

"It is," I replied.

"Did someone from Southgate reach out to you?" he asked.

I didn't deny it.

His eyes finally darkened.

"When did this start?" he asked.

"After the review," I replied.

"So you were already planning to leave," he said.

I slid the handover sheet across to him. "Procedurally, I'll submit my resignation thirty days ahead.

"None of my cases will get dropped; the clients won't be left hanging, and the team will stay intact. You don't have to worry."

He stared at the sheet for a long moment, saying nothing.

I circled the conference table, about to head out.

As I passed by, he suddenly caught my wrist.

His grip was gentle, but it stopped me cold.

"Sophie, this is about us, not just some project handover," he said.

I glanced down at his hand.

There was no ring on his finger.

And neither did I.

We never had anything out in the open that showed we were a couple.

Even now, we had to keep this talk locked away in a conference room, voices hushed, making sure nobody else was around.

I withdrew my hand. "We're on the clock. Let's stick to the resignation."

Edward's hand hung in the air, motionless.

I grabbed the file and headed out the door.

Tina was hovering outside, obviously wanting to knock but too nervous to do it.

She spotted me and quickly handed over a sheet. "Ms. Ryan, Evermark's client is here. They want to confirm the trial strategy with you."

"Take them to Conference Room Three," I said.

"Is Mr. Grant coming too?" she asked.

I glanced back.

Edward was still inside, standing with his back to the door, the handover sheet left on the table.

"No," I replied.

At three o'clock, I put in my resignation through the firm's system.

The reason box had a five-hundred-word limit.

Just four words. [For personal career plans.]

Once I hit submit, the system showed the next step.

Partner approval: Edward.

I took a look, then closed the page.