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I barely remembered the drive home. The moment I was inside, I checked my email to see if I had any responses from the inquiries I'd answered and if any others had come in. When I opened my inbox, it was close to full. The people I'd contacted had responded, and I had a pile of new emails, all from potential clients, all mentioning my website and inquiring about my services. They'd arrived within the past twelve hours. I frowned. I wasn't running any ads, but something had driven traffic to my site overnight.

I picked up my phone and opened Instagram, finding the cause. Marshall had tagged me in a post and captioned the photo with Boston's best interior designer, my beautiful girlfriend Lillah Winters. Not biased at all. He'd also tagged my website and followed it with heart-eyes emojis and a link to my portfolio.

My stomach flipped as fire built in my chest. My body heated as I thought back to a memory I didn't want to remember. Brett, sitting across from me in a restaurant, two years into our relationship. I'd landed my first big client, a small boutique hotel in Dallas that I'd spent months pursuing. I was so excited to have earned something on my own I could barely stop talking about it.

"That's cute." Brett said, not bothering to look up from his phone. "But don't let it get to your head, Lillah. This was a one off and you know they only hired you because of me. They aren't hiring you on your talent, babe. They are hiring you because of your connections."

I sat in the living room, tears filling my eyes as my hands shook while I thought about that night. The worst part was I'd believed him, and for the entire project, I kept his words buried deep inside of me. Every time people praised my work, I heard Brett's voice reminding me it was because of him.

I poured myself a glass of wine and then grabbed my phone, texting Marshall. I didn't care if he were about to go into a game; I needed this taken care of.

Lillah: We need to talk.

Immediately, those three little dots bounced around.

Marshall: Sorry I haven't been in touch today, still trying to get used to this sort of schedule. Is everything okay?

Lillah: I just found out that you promoted my business last night and that you also referred me to your coach's friend. That was the reason Mr. Andersen called me back and hired me, and when I got home, I had a ton of inquiries in my inbox, also because of you.

Those three dots bounced and then stopped, then started again.

Marshall: That is great. I knew people would love your work if they saw it. Briggs actually asked the entire team if anyone had a designer, so I figured I'd just pass your name along. I'm proud of you, babe.

I stared at my phone, at the words he'd written. Then I read it again and again.

Lillah: Yes, but I didn't ask you to do that. I don't need your help, I can handle my business on my own.

I waited. I could picture him sitting there trying to figure out what he'd done wrong, and the rational part of me felt guilty for causing that confusion. He wasn't Brett.

Marshall: Okay, noted. Sorry, I wasn't trying to undermine you, I thought I was supporting you.

Lillah: I know what you thought, but this is something I really need to do on my own.

I put my phone down on the table in front of me and leaned back on my couch, flipping the TV on. I flipped through the channels, found something to watch. I sat there, jaw clenched, eyes burning from frustration.

Marshall was not Brett. He had not promoted my business to make me dependent on him. He hadn't done it to establish ownership of me or to create a debt I'd owe him. He'd done it because he loved me and was proud of me. His intentions were pure, the exact opposite of anything Brett had ever done for me, but the feeling inside me was the same.

Cooper scratched at the back door, so I got up and let him out. Then I sat on the back porch watching him as he sniffed the fence line. After he finished, we headed back inside and curled up on the couch together. Usually lying with Cooper calmed me, but not tonight. I wasn't sure anything could.

I hated the fact that Marshall had done this without asking me. That he'd used his platform and his name to promote me. The good intentions didn't change it. The prospective clients who had messaged me were only there because of him, not because of my work. Mr. Andersen had only called me back and given me another chance after Marshall had vouched for me.

No matter how many times I'd thought about it, all I could see was the old wound Brett had carved into me. That I wasn't enough, never was, and that I'd always need someone's name attached to mine to matter.

It was after midnight when I felt my phone vibrate against my leg. Cooper and I were still lying on the couch watching TV, so I grabbed it, looking at the screen.

Marshall: I'm alone in my room. Could we talk?

I had half a mind not to bother answering, but I knew he'd see I'd read his message.

Lillah: Not tonight, I need some space.

Marshall: Okay, I'll be here when you're ready.

I stared at his message, reading it over three times. He didn't argue with me, didn't tell me I was overreacting. He let it go and gave me the space I'd asked for. Brett never would have given me that space. He'd have turned my feelings into a problem so that he could end up feeling like the good guy. Marshall gave me what I was asking for.

I buried my face in my hands and cried. I sobbed, letting the frustration escape. I cried until I was so exhausted that the only thing I wanted to do was climb into bed, which was what I did.

I climbed in under the covers, Cooper joining me on the bed, resting his head on my legs. I scratched behind his ears and listened as his breathing changed as he relaxed. I'd deal with this tomorrow. Tonight I needed to feel it and know that the present is not the past.