Designing Her Own Life

nger seat. The seat I used to fight for, the seat that was mine. She offered me a tight,

is eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "

eak, pathetic, and I di

of mergers, depositions, and case law. I sat in silence, picking at my food, my thoughts a million miles away, focused on the job offer, on findin

to me. "It was incredible," he gushed. "Andrew and Jennifer were a machine. They were up

ng in the air, a public confirmation of ever

ammered, his voice panicked.

er, no jealousy. Just a profound, weary indifference. He could ha

hissed, his composure crack

isfaction of a reaction. I wo

ession somber. "Gabrielle, again, my deepest condolences on

ainst his plate. He turned to me, hi

hat did

table, then his eyes, wide with fury, landed on me. "You didn't tell me?

r. The restaurant went quiet. "How could yo

painful, and dragged me out of the r

"Why, Gabby? Why wouldn't you tell me?" he pleade

wn calm a stark contr

dozens of times. I texted. I emailed. Jennifer answered your phone

olled through his call log, his messages. The missed calls. The unread texts. The color drained from his face as the full weight of his neglec