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"So, that's it, then." Somehow, a weight has settled in my chest - and been lifted. It probably hasn't sunk in yet. "Even though we were winning the case anyway."
"Winning - hadn't won." Bart's glare is cool. "Who knows how much time or legal fees we would've saved if it hadn't been for you. As it is, we just want this all wrapped up as quickly as possible. We have a business to run."
I find myself nodding, turning away. "I understand."
As I walk out, behind me I hear, "Goodbye, Ms. Masterson."
I head for the elevator, head held high, face forced calm. Bart didn't say the rest, of course. Why would he?
But that doesn't make it not so. That this isn't as simple as being thrown off a case. This story, this debacle will follow me. For months, years, maybe even longer than that.
I'm not going to be able to just walk away from this.
Then there's the timing of it. Jackson and Peterson, my firm, their annual review is in another week or so. An annual review where Cindy specifically mentioned the possibility of letting some people go. Yes, the worst goddamn timing possible.
Shit.
I drive home, feeling like I'm floating all the way. Not a good kind of floating, though. The kind of floating of a bubble popped - the kind of floating seconds before the fall. The only question is: when will the fall come?
Back at my place, Landon's waiting by the front door looking sheepish yet painfully handsome.
"Sorry," he says. "I know I should've called, but..."
"It's OK," I find myself saying as droplets splatter onto my exposed hand as I open the door.
It's started raining at some point. Oh.
Inside, my purse slops to the floor and I go to the couch to sit down.
"I'm sorry," I say to Landon, with an attempt at a smile. "I won't be much company right now. It might be best..."
"Oh no, you aren't getting rid of me that easily," he says firmly, coming to sit beside me. If this was any other time, the feel of his strong, warm leg beside me would be reassuring. But it's not any other time.
"So," he says.
"I lost the case," I say. "Worst possible time, too. My firm's all set for their annual review and they're letting people go."
"Jesus, Kyra."
"I know."
Landon never was good at comforting me, which is why I'm surprised when his fingers entwine with mine, lift them to his lips. "What do you need? We could hire you for Storm. Dirk has been underperforming lately."
I gape at him.
"What?" he says.
"Is that what you think I want?" I ask incredulously. "Some kind of pity job thrown my way?"
"No." He scowls. "Just trying to help. Storm Inc. is a big client. It could look good at this annual review."
"What, that the guy I'm dating and lost a case over decided to toss me a job?"
His hand drops mine as his eyes narrow. "That why you lost it?"
"That's what they said." I try to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but I can't manage it. This is too messed up. "That and the Pamela thing. That I was too personally involved and missed key things." My arms wrap around myself as a ragged sob falls out of me. Now, it's hitting me. Great. "I can't do this right now, Landon."
His hand lifts to me, wavers. "I keep saying the wrong thing. I don't know what to do."
The earnest pain in his voice makes me look up. His face has it too.
"There's nothing you can do," I say sadly, taking his hand myself. "Anyway, it's not you, it's me. I'm the one who keeps making mistakes. Mistake after fucking mistake."
"What are you saying?" he asks, light brown eyebrows drawn together.
"I'm saying that, ever since I've started seeing you again, it feels like my head isn't on straight. Like I keep making missteps."
"Things haven't been a fucking walk in the park for me either," Landon growls. "I'm still here."
"But maybe you shouldn't be," I say sadly. "Maybe all this fighting and trying and struggling... maybe it's too much. Maybe the cost is too high."
Landon lets my hand drop. "You don't think this is worth fighting for?"
"I don't know. Do you?"
His response is immediate and sure. "Yeah, I sure as hell do. What the hell, Kyra?"
"Maybe this can work," I say slowly, still not daring to look at him. I know those hazel eyes of his would diminish the little self-control I have left. "But right now... I think I need some time. This is a lot to take in at once, and I need to be on my A game for that annual review. Need my head clear."
"Kyra - "
"I'm sorry, Landon."
"Don't be sorry," he urges me, clasping at both my hands. "Don't do this."
I still can't look at him. "I'm not sure I have a choice anymore."
