“No.” I shook my head and started packing up her things, stuffing them all into her purse.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You can’t stay the night.”

“Okay...” She stood up. “Did something just happen? Do you want to talk about—”

“I don’t want to talk about anything else with you.” I hissed. “I just want to take you the hell home.”

“What?” She looked confused. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you—”

“Make sure you get all of your shit out of my bathroom. You won’t be coming back here again.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need to start f**king someone else.” I picked up her headband. “I think I’ve spent more than enough time with you, don’t you think?”

“Andrew...” Her face fell. “Where is all of this coming from?”

“The same place it was always coming from. You lied to me once, you’ll lie to me again.”

“I thought we were over that.”

“Maybe you were, but I wasn’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you need to get all of your things so I can take you home, and from here on out, you are my intern and I am your boss. You will forever be Miss Everhart, and to you I’ll be Mr. Hamilton.”

“Andrew...”

“Mr. Fucking. Hamilton.”

She rushed over to me and snatched her things, letting a few tears escape her eyes. “Fuck you. FUCK. YOU. This is the last time you’ll ever pull this hot and cold shit on me.” She stormed out of my apartment, slamming the door behind her.

I sighed and felt an immediate pang of guilt in my chest, but I knew it was the right thing to do. It was either cut this bullshit off now, or be responsible for breaking her heart later.

I stepped onto the balcony and lit a cigar—looking up at the moonless sky. Even though I felt bad for ending things so abruptly, for putting her out with no explanation, I needed to get back to who the hell I was and fast before I f**ked up and put my heart on the line again...

Closing Argument (n.):

Andrew (Well... back then, you would’ve called me “Liam A. Henderson”)

Six years ago

New York

There’s something about this city that makes me believe again. It’s the hopefulness in the air, the flashing lights that shine brighter than anywhere else, and the dreamers who fill the streets day after day—unwilling to give up on their failures until they finally win. There’s no other city like it, and there’s nothing more alluring outside these state lines—nothing that will ever make me leave.

As the sun sets in the distance, I wrap my arm around my wife’s waist. We’re standing against the railing of the Brooklyn Bridge—smiling because I just added another high profile client to my firm.

“You think one day the papers will actually tell the truth about your first case?” She looked up at me with her light green eyes. “Or do you think they’ll keep brushing it under the rug?”

“Brushing it under the rug.” I sigh. “I highly doubt the government wants people knowing a kid straight out of law school uncovered a conspiracy. It’s an insult to their organization.”

“So, you’re fine being reduced to a random Jeopardy question that’ll happen ten years from now? ‘I’ll take lawyers who never got credit for two hundred, Alex.’ You’re fine with that?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” I kiss her forehead. “I didn’t need the papers to print my name to get clients. People knew, that’s how they found me.”

“You should be so much bigger than what you are...” She shakes her head, whispering, “Your name should be plastered across every billboard in the city. Fucking ass**les...”

Smiling, I tighten my grip around her waist and start the walk back to our car. Out of all the people that have come in and out of my life, Ava Sanchez has been the one constant.

She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved, and ever since the day I made her mine at our wedding three years ago, I swore that would never change.

“I was also thinking,” she says as she slips into the passenger seat, “that maybe me, you, and your partner Kevin could go out to a singles’ mixer next weekend.”

“Why would we go to a singles mixer?”

“It’s more so for Kevin...He needs to get his own life. I’m tired of him hanging around us all the time. It’s bad enough that we all work at your firm together, but do we have to spend our every waking moment together, too?”

Laughing, I drove down the city streets and home to the colossal brownstone we shared. It was the first purchase I’d made after winning the “case that never was,” and Ava had insisted that I buy the most expensive one.

“Because you f**king deserve it,” she’d said. “And you never treat yourself to anything nice...That’s what I don’t understand about you, Liam. You’re such a nice guy to everyone but yourself...”

I park our car in front of our home and immediately step out to open her door. As usual, Ava whispers, “I bet she’ll scream for you first,” as I walk her up the steps.

The second we walk inside, that familiar sweet voice rings out across the room.

“Daddyyyyy!”

I let go of Ava’s hand and stoop low so my daughter—Emma Henderson, can run into my arms. She’s the best part of my day, the best part of my life, and seeing her always brings an unbreakable smile to my face.