Page 48 of Come Home to Me

“Don’t talk to me like that, either.”

Jason raises his palms. “Like what?”

“Like you’re better than me.”

“I’m not better than you, Frank. Not by a long shot. But you’re better than this.” Jason shakes his head and turns away.

I fill the box in a daze and find myself on the street in front of the firm.

In the space of an hour, my world has come undone. I’m drowning in questions and uncertainty. Operating on instinct. Overwhelmed with problems I don’t have answers for.

What now?

Will I find another firm willing to take a chance on me after this?

What about Sarah?

Why would she come back to me if I have nothing to give her, no way to support her?

My feet take me across the street before I realize I’ve decided to walk. I push open the door to Derby’s before I can think of a better place to go. I order a drink and sit next to the culmination of my years at McDougan & Kent, all of it sitting on the stool next to me in one small cardboard box. I order a drink and down it without thinking.

“Would you like another?” The bartender surprises me. The question catching me off guard. I pick up my empty glass, the ice sliding to the side, a watered-down layer of whiskey gathering on the bottom.

The answer is no.

It’s always no.

But after only a moment’s hesitation, I slide the glass his way and say yes.

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