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I expect Matt to yell at me again or advance on me further, but he just closes his eyes as if he’s in pain and his head hangs down low. I keep going before he tries to stop me again.
“If you’re honest with yourself, Matt, you know it’s true. He didn’t make the move. Otherwise, why would he have been the one to confess it to you? He came to you to let you know, and you never even gave him a chance to explain. You beat the crap out of him and kicked him out of your life, without even giving him a chance. ”
Matt turns away from me, walking back behind his desk. I decide to let him hear the last of my mind, and then it’s over.
“I’m not justifying what he did, Matt. Cal doesn’t try to do that either. He was wrong, and he knows it. But he did not instigate it and, although he was weak at first, he did stop it. But you already know that’s true, because I understand Marissa wasn’t stingy with her charms. ”
Out of breath and out of stamina, I watch Matt as he stares out the window over downtown Manhattan. His shoulders are hunched, and he looks defeated.
I turn and walk to the door, but before I leave, I swing back around. “I only told you this, Matt, because your pain and bitterness are holding you back. I only wanted to show you that it might be a little easier to forgive Cal than you originally thought. Carrying that bitterness is not good. It’s already turned you into someone that is destined to lead a lonely life, because you can’t let it go. That’s fine… that’s your choice. But remember this… you teach Gabe by example. What is he learning from watching you? What are you teaching him about love and forgiveness?”
Matt doesn’t respond. He just stares out the window, and it’s clear he has nothing to say. Unfortunately, neither do I. I said my piece, and it’s time to move on.
Opening the door, I walk out, hoping that Macy is at home with a huge carton of ice cream for me. I’m feeling a massive, crying meltdown coming on.
I’m slogging through every workday at Connover and Crown, and it’s getting harder and harder to get through it because I’m depressed. I watch the clock constantly, waiting for it to be 5:30 PM so I can go home. I don’t work late at the office anymore, preferring to work from home instead.
Anything to avoid seeing Matt.
It’s been a week since we broke up. This past weekend was brutal. I spent countless hours obsessing over whether I did the right thing, or if I should have given Matt more time and patience. Now I obsess over whether I have already been replaced by another numerical match through One Night Only. I pull my phone out time and again with the intent to call him, or even to send a short text, just to see how he’s doing.
But my common sense always prevails. I’m no dummy, and I’m not one to keep attempting the futile. My gut tells me that Matt doesn’t have it in him for anything further, and it’s time for me to move on.
The only way I know this is affecting Matt is because I’m getting daily ratings from Bea. She always greets me each morning with a Matt Report, and he hasn’t dropped below a ten since we parted ways. I know this should give me some comfort, but it doesn’t. Matt’s not missing me. He’s just missing the convenient and stellar sex. I’ve heard lack of those things will make men grumpy.
Fortuitously, Matt had been out of the office a great deal this week with court hearings, and I didn’t really need his help on any of my stuff. We both were doing a great job of avoiding the other, and I was starting to believe that this might actually be workable. I’m sure with time, my hurt feelings and his surliness would just naturally ease, and then maybe we could have at least a polite working relationship. I mean, I might have some major issues with Matt, but I really love the type of work I’m doing for him.
Today, however, Matt makes it clear to me that there’s no room for a polite working relationship between the two of us. There is an email waiting for me as soon as I get in. It reads:
Mac,
In an effort to help with the burgeoning increase in complex business cases, you are being transferred into that division under the general supervision of Bill Crown. Obviously, you will still work on the Jackson case since the clients are attached to you, but John Casting will act as your co-counsel and immediate supervisor. You can direct any and all questions to him. Finally, with the addition of Kylie Wynn to the Pearson appeal, I will not need your help on that case further.
I wish you the best of luck with these new endeavors, and I’m sure you’ll be a successful member of the complex business litigation team.
Sincerely,
Matthew Connover
Is he f**king kidding me?
Is he mother f**king kidding me?
He sends me a formal email telling me that I’m no longer going to be doing injury litigation, which is what I love doing? He’s transferring me to the hell of business law? And more than that, he “wishes me the best of luck”?
What a f**king ass**le coward.
I wait for the anger to well up further and overtake me, but it never gets above a low simmer. In fact, I feel sort of a cool calmness. I suppose the fact I have been telling myself over and over again that there is no hope of a relationship with Matt has led me to believe, deep down inside, that it would be impossible to go backward to just an employer/employee relationship.
There is no second-guessing, and I don’t have even an ounce of doubt over my next actions.
I pull up a blank Word document, and I start typing.
When I’m finished, I print it, sign it, and put it in an envelope. I handwrite the words “Matthew Connover” and place it in my outbox. A gopher boy comes around several times a day and takes all the stuff from the attorneys’ outboxes and distributes it. Matt will get my notice sometime soon, but I don’t give it another thought.
Instead, I pick up the phone and call Cal. He knows Matt and I broke up, and we’ve talked a few times. He’s been a very good friend to me and provided me with an open ear. He’s not been judgmental, and he’s been strangely quiet as to taking my side over Matt’s or vice versa. I invite him for lunch the following day, and we make plans to meet in the cafeteria that’s in our building.
I lose myself in the Jackson case, writing up a detailed summary memorandum of it so I can give it to Cal. His help is going to be instrumental to me.
The details of the memorandum are so engrossing that I don’t even realize there is someone standing in my office doorway until he clears his throat.
It’s Matt, and he’s holding my letter of resignation in his hand.
Without invitation, he walks in, closes the door, and takes a seat. He throws the envelope on my desk. “What the hell is this?”
“Come on, Matt. You know what it is. ” My voice is gentle, without harshness or even bitter feelings. It doesn’t mean those feelings aren’t there, but I’m choosing not to bring them into this. I want to keep this professional.
“You’re resigning?” he asks, as if he can’t believe what my letter says.
“Yes. I’ll give you two weeks’ notice or, if you want me to leave immediately, I’ll do that. I’m taking the Jackson case with me though, so please don’t think about fighting me on that. My clients won’t stay here if I’m not involved. ”
Matt looks at me with exasperation and waves an impatient hand at me. “I don’t give a f**k if you take that case. I just can’t believe you’d quit. I mean… I moved you out of my section so you wouldn’t have to deal with me. I thought it would give you want you wanted. ”
Cocking my head, I try to gauge what Matt is really feeling. He looks agitated and nervous. He looks confused… lost. I’m not sure what it means, but none of it changes my decision to leave.
“I’m sorry. I appreciate you trying to make my work environment easier. It’s just… it’s just too hard for me to be here. Too many memories. Some right in this office,” I say with a little smile, and I’m surprised when Matt even smiles a little over my reference to the times we’d gotten down and dirty in here.
“There’s
nothing I can do to change your mind?” he asks. His eyes peer hard into mine, trying to determine if there is a loophole he can work his way inside of.
If he could really read my thoughts, he’d see that my heart is screaming, Yes. You can tell me you’ve made a huge mistake—that you miss me, love me, and you’ll die without me.
But that’s too much wishful thinking. So I say, “I’m sorry. This is for the best. ”
He stares at me for a long moment. I can practically see the wheels and cogs spinning in his brain. But then I see the moment when resignation takes over his face, and he accepts what I say. “All right then. I’ll accept your resignation, and I’ll take the two weeks’ notice. That’s very professional of you to offer that. Since you’ll only be here two more weeks, obviously I won’t be transferring you over to Bill. You can help me wind up some stuff. ”
“Okay,” I tell him, not sure if I’m relieved or sad that he didn’t beg me to stay. “Sounds like a game plan. ”
“You resigned?” Cal asks with astonishment as we move through the cafeteria line. He pulls a turkey sub onto his tray, and I make a grab for one of the last Caesar salads left.
“Yup,” I tell him, also grabbing a cupcake. I think I’m entitled since I’m eating rabbit food for lunch.
When we get to the cash register I open my wallet, but Cal beats me to it by handing his credit card over to the cashier.
“Hey,” I say in exasperation. “I’m supposed to be buying. I invited you. ”
Cal glares at me, and I close my wallet. “I’m buying because you’re getting ready to be a poor, unemployed lawyer. You need to be saving your money. ”
We take our food and easily find an empty table. The lunch rush is starting to wane, but that’s because we didn’t get here until about 1:30 PM because Cal was running late. The crowded nature of this cafeteria is one of the reasons I try to avoid it. Yes, it’s super convenient having it in our building, but I hate having to battle for a table.
We sit down, and I pull my cupcake toward me. I love eating my dessert first, although, sometimes I feel self-conscious about it. I don’t feel that way with Cal, which is again a testament to what a good friend he’s become to me.
“I can’t believe you just quit,” he mutters. “You know the job market sucks out there for attorneys right now. ”
“I know. But I have an idea. ”
Raising his eyebrows at me, Cal takes a bite of his sub and waits for me to explain.
Licking a chunk of frosting off my finger, I say, “I’m going to open my own firm. And I want you to be my partner. ”
Cal pauses chewing and just stares at me. I hold his stare, so he knows I’m not kidding. He quickly swallows his food and wipes his mouth. Pushing his sandwich aside, he leans across the table toward me. “Are you serious?”
Okay, at least his tone isn’t mocking me but he is in disbelief, so I need to convince him. “Yes. My mom was well insured when she died. I’m willing to put some of that money into opening up my own firm. And you are always telling me how you want to switch from doing defense work to plaintiff’s work. So, now is your chance. Plus, I have a really huge case, and I need help with it. If we win it, it will be worth millions. And if we lose it… well, I’ll need someone’s shoulder to cry on. ”
Cal takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, his lunch completely forgotten. “Let’s say I even entertain this idea. When would you want to do this?”
“In two weeks… I’m ready to start as soon as I leave Connover and Crown. ”
“Jesus Christ,” Cal mutters, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “This case you’re talking about… tell me about it. ”