will finally make us happy. So we keep stacking the bullshit blocks, ignoring the voice inside us that screams wrong over and over again. When I finally listened to that voice”—she draws a shaky breath—“it was too late.”
“My God.” I swallow, hard. “That metaphor is beautiful. And awful.”
“No shit. My life feels like one giant joke. Only the joke’s on me.”
I lace my fingers through hers. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“What?” She arches a brow. “You think you’re a joke?”
“Everything about me is a joke. My profession. My love life. My future.”
She sets down her wineglass on the table and turns on the couch to look at me, folding her legs underneath her. She takes both my hands and looks me in the eye. “Listen to me, Em. And listen carefully. Have you ever considered it’s our world that’s a joke and not you? You left a lucrative future in law to follow your dreams. Not our family’s dreams, your dreams. Look at me. I don’t even know what my dreams are. I’ve spent my whole life trying to become what the world told me I should be. According to that world’s rules, yeah, I was successful. My social media feed was perfect. But now I’m fucked. I’m going to lose most of my money in this divorce. All the partners at my firm are friendly with Palmer and have worked with him in the past, so God knows what they’ll think of me now. Mom and Dad are going to be devastated. But more than that, I’ve wasted whole decades of my life doing things I hate with people who aren’t my people. If that’s not a joke…”
“Well, I haven’t been happy all the time, either.”
“No one’s happy all the time. If they are, they aren’t telling themselves the truth. I mean, what if success looks less like a highlight reel and more like a life you don’t have to share with the world to feel good about it?” She searches my face. “I don’t want perfect anymore. I want real. I want what you have with Samuel.”
I’m so startled I start to cry all over again. “What? Why would you ever want the hot mess that we are?”
“Because,” she says softly, “you took a risk last night that, if I understand it correctly, was extremely brave. The connection you have with Samuel is inconvenient and scary, but it’s real. Samuel is in love with you, and if he wasn’t, this wouldn’t have accelerated the way it has. Take it from me—that sort of connection I picked up on in the space of, what, ten minutes between you and Samuel doesn’t happen very often. It’s worth another act of bravery. Another leap of faith. It’s worth risking everything for. Even your job. Because at the end of the day, it’s not a job that makes us happy. It’s relationships. It’s our people, the ones who love us for who we really are.”
I let that sink in for a minute. Lindsey’s right, of course. If I didn’t know that deep down, the burning sincerity in her eyes would convince me. But the reminder makes me feel mushy inside nonetheless.
It softens the shell that’s formed around my heart.
“But what about Samuel’s people?” I manage around the lump in my throat. “He loves his family, Lindsey. Like, loves them, more than anything. And I messed that up. I’m the wedge that came between Samuel and Hank.”
She offers me a small smile. “No offense, but if the Beauregards are as tight as you say they are, I don’t think your accidental love triangle situation is going to bring them down. Mistakes were made, sure. People were hurt. But I think you’re only going to end up hurting them more if you leave. Ever consider you might be more of a bridge than a wedge? What if this was always meant to happen, and Samuel and Hank were supposed to have this falling out so their relationship could become better and stronger and more true, the way it was always meant to be? Because it doesn’t sound like they’re very honest with each other. Maybe you were the nudge they needed.”
I feel the tiniest twinge of relief, and I let out a soft laugh. “What are you, a lawyer or something?”
“Meh. Not anymore, I don’t think.”
“But I fucked up so bad tonight, Linds. Isn’t that, I don’t know, exhibit A of why working with the man I love a bad idea?”