Page 7

The Briefcase

Slowly, Marsh opens one scrunched, terrified eye.

She’s in a house.

Her house.

“Okay, good,” she sighs, relieved.

She opens the other eye and looks around.

It’s before lunch, judging by the light. Marsh is in her living room, standing beside the fireplace mantel. Pickle is napping on his dog bed on the floor beneath the bay window, snoring softly.

Did it work? she wants to ask.

Everything seems the same so far.

Marsh waits for a moment. For something to happen, for someone to tell her what to do. She’s supposed to be forging ahead down this new path, but old habits are hard to break.

“Hello?” she finally calls.

Pickle’s ear flicks once in his sleep, but the rest of the house remains silent.

“Harper?” she tries again.

Her eyes leap across the room to the hooks on the wall by the front door— Harper’s backpack isn’t there —but as soon as the panic jolts through her, it’s gone again, replaced by a meek foolishness.

The show did not erase her daughter. It’s simply late morning; Harper’s already at school.

“Hi, Marsh,” a voice says, and Marsh nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Oops.” Behind her, Talia scrunches her shoulders apologetically. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“Sorry,” Marsh manages, once her voice won’t give away how fast her heart is racing.

It comes out as a mumble, but Talia has more than enough pep to carry the scene until Marsh gets her act together. “Welcome to your first choice!” She beams and executes a twirl. “How do you feel?”

“Uh...” Marsh trails off, still disoriented. “Well, so far...”

But she jumps again as her phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out and looks at the text message now on the screen.

Hey babe, the tapas restaurant is booked up already, so how about Vietnamese tonight instead?

The name above the message reads: Ren Kurosaki.

Marsh looks back up at Talia, speechless.

Is this real?

She stares at her phone again.

It can’t really be real.

Talia grins at her dazed expression. “It is.”

Marsh turns to the row of picture frames on the mantel, desperate for more evidence. Some of the ones she used to have there are missing—the portrait where Harper’s in her prom dress, her arm looped through Dylan’s, and the other where Marsh is holding a fish she caught while camping with him years ago—but there are others in their place now. Marsh and Ren at some kind of fancy dinner. Marsh and Ren in bathing suits at the beach. Marsh and Ren smooching as he takes a selfie of the kiss, the two of them smiling into each other’s lips.

“It... it is real,” Marsh repeats, struck with wonder.

Ren didn’t break up with her last night after all.

Her phone buzzes again, startling her a third time, and Talia can’t help but giggle.

Nam Phuong was about to book up too so I grabbed a 7pm spot, but if you want something else, just let me know and I’ll call them and cancel!

“What should I do?” Marsh asks.

“I think you should answer,” Talia says.

Marsh’s fingers fumble across the screen clumsily.

Nam Phuong sounds great, she types. Thanks for getting us a reservation!

No problem, Ren replies. Gotta run, work meeting, but can’t wait to see you tonight.

As soon as his message reaches her, he’s typing again, and another one blips up right underneath it.

Love you

Marsh stares at those words, lost in them.

He said it so quickly, as if he didn’t have to think about it. As if they’ve already been saying it to each other for a while now.

“Ren loves me?” Marsh repeats, like the words are magical.

Ren loves her.

Love you too! she scrambles to answer, before it can get weird that she hasn’t said it back. Her head is swimming and she has no idea what to think right now, but she’d rather not ruin everything with a fumble before she even has a chance to figure out what “everything” is.

“Ren loves me.”

Marsh is smiling now. Grinning, even. Grinning so intensely, it’s making her eyes shimmer.

“It’s real,” she whispers. “It’s really real.”

TopFan01: Here we go, y’all!

The words appear in the air right in front of her face, a stream of hearts exploding all around them, and Marsh screams, nearly dropping her phone.

“The chat roll is online already!” Talia exclaims, delighted.

YanYan242: TopFan01, you’re back!

Fortunata111: Our favorite moderator!

JesterG: All hail the voice of reason!

TopFan01: Thanks, y’all. Happy to be here, too! Are you all ready to root for Marsh as she makes her life perfect??

“The...” Marsh pauses. “Chat? Roll?”

“It’s a new feature this season, now that the show is live!” Talia sings. “It’s amazing. Sharp Entertainment used to host an Internet forum where fans could gather, but this year, RealTV has created a direct line between you and your millions of dedicated, passionate viewers! You’ll be able to see their comments in real time during key scenes.” She clasps her hands together. “Amazing, right?”

“Uh.” Marsh stares at Talia long enough that any normal person’s smile would waver. “Y-yes,” she stammers at last. “Amazing.”

Talia rewards her with a comforting squeeze on her arm as more hearts flood across her field of vision.

N3vrGiv3Up: I can’t wait!

Schneckchen: Ich liebe diese Sendung!

Moms4Marsh: Go, Marsh, go!

There are hundreds of posts every second, far too many to catch, let alone remember, every name. But inevitably, some stand out.

Notamackerel: YAWN! I can already tell this is going to be the most boring season ever!

Thousands of cartoonish middle fingers obliterate Marsh’s view, until she nearly staggers.

Monsterrific: Oh, of course. Our favorite troll had to find his way here, too

StrikeF0rce: Couldn’t find any friends of your own during the hiatus?

Notamackerel: Got tired of your mom!

The thumbs-downs overwhelm Marsh so quickly that she actually swipes at the air in front of her. “How do I...” Every word is like a fleck of dust stinging against the jelly white of her eyes. “How do I make it stop?”

Talia giggles. “We never want our viewers to stop, Marsh! But of course, they’ll understand that sometimes you need a private moment. If you ever do, you can just go like this”—Talia closes her eyes for a second, a slow, deliberate blink—“and the comments will minimize for a little bit.”

Marsh copies her, and everything goes mercifully silent.

“Wow” is all she can finally manage.

Talia, unfazed, tugs Marsh to the couch and settles them both on it. “So. Talk to me. What do you think of your new life so far?”

“Well, I’ve only been here for about five minutes, but Ren and I just texted. He, we...”

Talia clasps her hands when she sees the grin spread across Marsh’s face.

“That’s a good sign,” she says.

Marsh jumps up, too excited to hold still. “We’re seeing each other tonight.”

“Looks like you’ve already been seeing each other quite a bit,” Talia replies, winking at Marsh as she looks around.

Talia’s right, she realizes. Ren’s stuff is all over the house. One of the coats on the hooks by the door looks like his, and the shoes beneath them are the ones he wore on his first date with her. The last scribbled note on the notepad on the coffee table—something about the timing for a lunar eclipse—is in his handwriting.

Talia is watching Marsh pace like a proud mother. “So, you’re happy with this first choice?”

“It feels good,” Marsh says. “It feels... right.”

SagwaGold: 我哋愛你呀 , Marsh!

LunaMágica: She is so adorable!

Talia grabs Marsh’s hand before she can bat the words away on instinct, and Marsh manages to smile appreciatively instead.

Her host winks at her, and Marsh blushes.

You’re getting the hang of this, it means.

“You know what we need to do now,” Talia continues as she pulls Marsh down the hall. “We need to pick out a dress for your date tonight!”

The dinner is amazing. Ren is amazing. He’s even more thrilled to be with Marsh than before, if that’s possible. He’s so enthusiastic about every little thing she does and says that it’s almost cartoonish—Marsh has to try not to laugh at times.

It’s perfect, she wants to tell him, even though he wouldn’t understand. It’s just like it was before she ruined everything, like that terrible night never happened, and the two of them just kept going. But there’s a deepness to it in this version, an intimacy that comes with time. The way Ren puts his hand on her back as he guides her to her seat is practiced and comfortable. The way he watches Marsh openly when she fixes her hair or tries an appetizer, eager to see if she likes it, instead of trying to hide his glances. And the more relaxed he seems about their relationship, the more excited it makes Marsh—which then starts to make him more excited, although he can’t tell why. He can just feel the energy in her glances, the way she’s sitting closer to him and constantly touching his arm.

“Someone’s a little frisky tonight,” Ren whispers teasingly into her hair in the taxi on the way home.

“Just you wait,” Marsh whispers back. But as their driver eases into her driveway, Ren pulls back and climbs out of the car to go around and open Marsh’s door.

“As much as I want to, I gave you my promise, and I intend to keep my word,” he says.

“Your promise,” Marsh repeats, confused, as Ren extends a hand to help her climb out.

“That I’d get you home in time for you to get a full eight hours of sleep before your early morning tomorrow.” He checks his watch and grimaces. “It’s already eleven.”

“Well, maybe if we were really quick...” she suggests, but Ren shakes his head with a smile.

“I’ll take care of locking up and turning all the lights out. You can just go straight for your toothbrush,” he says as he takes her keys and opens the front door for them—which for some reason is on the other side of the house than usual, Marsh realizes.

That’s odd, she thinks.

Why would the Bubble do that?

But Ren is still talking. “This is your first huge exam,” he’s saying. “I know you’re going to ace it, but you should be going into it as well rested as possible.”

What exam? Marsh is about to ask, but as soon as the two of them step inside, her eyes fall on the pile of open books spread across the dining table, and she understands.

Criminal Law I, Legal Research and Writing, Constitutional Law I .

She can’t stop staring.

In this new reality, she’s restarted law school, too.

She’s doing it.

She’s finally doing it.

An excited shiver runs through her as Ren comes up from behind and gives her a hug and a peck on the cheek.

“I’m in law school,” Marsh says, amazed.

“Yes, you are,” Ren replies. “And you’re doing amazing at it.” He smacks her butt gently. “Which is why we need to get you to bed, before it gets any later! If it’s my fault that you don’t get the best score in the class because you were tired, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Okay, okay.” She laughs, heading down the hall for her bedroom with her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Marsh trusts Talia’s assurances that the Bubble’s camera angles are set to “modest” inside her home as she gets into her pajamas. She brushes her teeth as she listens to Ren move around the house, dutifully making sure every window and door is secured. As she rinses the sink, there’s a polite rap on the wall, and Marsh looks up into the mirror to see Ren leaning against the doorframe.

“All done,” he says. “Safe and sound for the night.”

“You’re the best,” Marsh replies.

He follows her back into the bedroom, talking about plans with friends that they must have for later in the week as she sets her alarm and climbs into bed. Even as new as this reality is to her, everything seems so easy, so natural. They’re practically perfect together.

“Sleep well,” Ren says as he kisses her good night. “Call me as soon as you’re done tomorrow and tell me how it went.”

“I will,” she agrees as he heads out of the bedroom to go back to his own place, even though what’s running through her mind is the complete opposite.

Wait! she wants to shout. Stay!

As if he can hear her, just before Ren steps into the hall, he pauses and glances back at Marsh.

“I know nothing but sleep would be happening tonight, but Harper is still at her dad’s until tomorrow afternoon...” He trails off.

Marsh pats the pillow beside her. Ren grins. He pulls off his jeans and shirt so he’s just in his boxers, then climbs into bed.

“I promise to let you sleep,” he says as he snuggles contentedly into the comforter.

“I know,” Marsh says, clicking off the lamp. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he echoes in the dark.

It’s about ten seconds before she’s climbed on top of him, and his hands are all over her.

This time, Marsh makes sure it’s definitely Ren’s name that she cries out.

Marsh doesn’t get enough sleep, but it doesn’t matter. Her new life is so fresh and exciting, she’s already awake before her alarm goes off. She cancels the timer so the blare won’t wake Ren, who’s tangled up adorably in the blankets and still snoring, and then slips downstairs to make coffee.

There’s the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and doors slamming. Marsh puts the carafe back in the machine and peers through the kitchen window to see Harper bounding across the driveway—and Dylan following behind.

Oh boy.

Talia did say that they’d get to Dylan eventually. How does a happily independent new woman act around a former partner? How does one be blithe but still charming while wearing the same old robe that said former partner once bought for her? How does one convey that it’s entirely about the softness of the fabric and not the identity of the giver without making it seem like exactly the opposite? She can’t help but wish for a commercial break, or that Talia were there with her right now to tell her what to do.

Notamackerel: Oh, look, the guy who dumped Marsh because she’s so pathetic!

Moms4Marsh: Just you wait. By the season finale, Dylan will be kicking himself for leaving her!

“Hi, honey,” Marsh greets her daughter as she unlocks the door.

“Uh-oh, someone’s going to be late to class,” Harper says, surprised her mother is home. She sticks out her tongue. “Not setting a very good example, are we?”

Marsh resists rolling her eyes. Plenty about this life is already better, but Harper is still definitely a smart-aleck teenager.

“I’m not late,” she replies. “I’m leaving in an hour. But aren’t you going to be late?”

“Well, ex-cooze me for trying to chat with my own mother!” Harper whines, and skips down the hall toward her room, probably to retrieve something she forgot. “Don’t fail your test!”

“Thanks,” Marsh sighs, just as Dylan arrives at the stoop, carrying Harper’s backpack. Despite her nerves, Marsh’s eyes catch on it—it’s slightly different from the original. Outside the Bubble, Harper’s backpack is red with stripes. But in this episode, it’s Sharp Purple with butterflies, and the logo says CHRYSALIS in embellished calligraphy.

Another odd detail for the Bubble to alter.

“Her friends want to go swimming after school today,” Dylan is explaining. Straight to business—no good morning, no hello . “I’ll drop her off at the bus stop after she grabs her suit.”

“Thanks,” Marsh says, just as Pickle, having heard the commotion, launches himself out the door and Dylan laughs and groans at the same time as sixty pounds of Labrador slams into his shins.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, trying to hold Pickle still so he can’t jump all over him. “Okay, calm down, calm down. This dog really needs some training, you know. They have weekly classes at the park...”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to get to it, with all my free time.” Marsh sighs.

Dylan looks like he’s about to give her some unwanted advice on managing her schedule, but the sentence fades from his lips as he catches sight of Ren coming into the kitchen.

Ren is fully dressed now—but it’s seven thirty in the morning.

“So, he spends the night now,” Dylan says to Marsh as Pickle shoots back inside after Harper, still barking.

“Never when Harper’s here,” Marsh replies.

Dylan’s gaze shifts pointedly over her shoulder back toward where their daughter’s gone, as if to say, Well, she’s here now .

“I didn’t know you’d be bringing her by before school this morning,” Marsh says. “But I’m sorry. I’ll be more discreet about it.”

Dylan shakes his head. Marsh is already mustering a rebuttal to whatever he’s going to nitpick next, but his expression takes the heat out of it. It almost seems like it’s not the fact that Harper will see Ren that he’s upset about. Or at least, it’s not the only reason.

It almost seems like... he’s a little sad?

“I’ll, uh, be in the living room,” Ren announces to no one in particular. He disappears around the corner, and the television turns on, to give Marsh and Dylan some privacy.

“I am sorry,” she repeats.

“No, I’m sorry,” Dylan says, waving it off. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

His hand comes to rest on the doorframe, and after a moment, he moves it up and down, like he’s testing the wood.

“Is this door different?” he asks, staring at it with a frown.

Marsh pauses. She looks at the backpack, then back at him.

“Different how?” she asks at last.

He sighs. “Never mind. It was hectic this morning. We woke up late and were rushing, and then I spilled coffee all over the car—”

“Yikes.” She snorts. Good, casual. “Well, I hope it didn’t stain anything.”

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” he replies. He slaps his palm a couple times on the wooden frame of the door, giving it one last, unsettled look before shrugging. “Sorry. Everything just feels a little off today. The important thing is, she’ll make it to the bus on time.”

“Harper! Hurry it up!” Marsh shouts, remembering that she’s still here, and Harper throws a dramatic, irritated groan down the hallway from her room.

When she turns back, Dylan is looking at her guardedly.

“I know this is probably...” He trails off, giving up on whatever excuse he’d prepared. “I have a gift for you, but you can do whatever you want with it. It’s completely up to you.”

“A gift?” Marsh asks, surprised.

Dylan lowers Harper’s Sharp Purple butterfly backpack, and she can see that he’s also holding a medium-sized rectangular box behind it, sort of like what a dress shirt might come in.

“It’s actually really old,” he says. “I bought it for you a long, long time ago, but the timing was never right to give it to you. And then, well.” He shrugs.

Marsh takes the box. “Thank you,” she says cautiously. “Can I open it now?”

“If you want.”

She unwraps it, and a smile catches her as she sees what’s inside.

“It’s a briefcase,” Marsh says softly. “For a lawyer.”

“I finally got around to unpacking the last of the boxes I took from here when I left. It was inside one of them.” He gestures to the gift. “I know it’s super old now, I don’t know if that makes it vintage or just outdated, but it felt wrong to throw it out. I just wanted you to have it—whatever you decide to do with it.”

Marsh touches the gold front clasp on the leather, moved.

Dylan must have bought this when she was pregnant, probably for a fortune they couldn’t afford at the time, and planned to give it to her after Harper was born and she’d returned to finish law school and taken the bar.

He’d kept it all this time. Even after she’d dropped out. Even after things had started to go wrong for the two of them. Even after he’d blown up the marriage. Even after he’d moved out, and the divorce, and she’d gotten together with Ren. He’d still kept it.

Marsh looks back up at him, at a loss for words.

“I really am happy for you,” Dylan says. His voice is low, vulnerable. “I know how much you wanted to do this, and how much it cost you to give it up, for our family. I’m really glad you’re doing it now. I—I’m proud of you, Mallow. I think Harper will be, too. Once she grows out of this stage.”

A sudden prickle in Marsh’s eyes catches her off guard. Has she ever heard Dylan talk this way before? She’d done such a good job of hiding her disappointment over her lost career from him while they were married. It was a point of secret pride for her—as if hiding it from him could also hide it from herself. Knowing that he’d still glimpsed it somehow was almost more startling than even the affair.

“So, all ready for your exam?” Ren asks brightly when Marsh comes into the living room, his voice raised slightly over the faint rumble of Dylan’s car easing out of the driveway to take Harper to the bus stop. “What’s that?” he adds, when he sees the briefcase in her hands.

“Nothing,” Marsh manages after a moment.

His face slowly changes as he watches her, shifting from excitement to concern. He looks as confused as she feels.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Marsh looks down at the briefcase. “I...”

But the doorbell rings.

“Talia,” Marsh cries, overcome, when she gets back to the door and sees that it’s her host this time.

“Talk to me,” Talia says, sweeping her into a comforting hug. “Talk to our viewers. Tell us how you’re feeling.”

Marsh glances back quickly, to make sure Ren is still in the living room.

“I don’t know! Everything was going so well at first, but now I’m worried that maybe I started off with the wrong choice. Ren is wonderful, but I have decades of history with Dylan. A whole life, and a daughter.” She swallows raggedly. “Maybe I gave up too easily. Dylan did do something terrible, but how bad the marriage got before he did it wasn’t entirely his fault. I—I’d stopped trying, too.”

Talia nods sympathetically. “It’s all right. These are big changes! A little panic is normal in the beginning. What are you thinking?”

“Well, if he is really this sorry that it all ended, as sorry as I was, maybe if I could go back to before things got really bad between the two of us, I could save our marriage,” Marsh whispers nervously.

“Or, maybe you should have focused even more on your career than this,” Talia offers as an alternative. “Even though you’re back in law school now, and Ren is clearly very supportive, you’ve lost out on a lot of years. Jo’s been a partner for a decade already, and you’re still just in your first year of the degree.” She steps closer. “But if you’d never given it up in the first place, where would you be now?”

Marsh’s grip on the briefcase tightens at that.

Classic Marsh.

She’d been thinking only about what was right in front of her, but maybe Talia’s right.

There’s more than one way to change a life.

Marsh looks up as the show’s familiar jingle cuts gently in, coming from who knows where. It’s the music that plays whenever she has the chance to make another choice. To push herself closer to the life she’s always wanted.

“Remember,” Talia says, and Marsh turns to see Talia smiling. “You could have All This ...”

Marsh smiles back. It’s taken her a moment to wrap her head around it all, but she’s getting into it now. Starting to feel just how many possibilities are at her fingertips. Just how easy it is to snap them and ask for something new.

“ And More, ” she replies.

To have focused on Marsh’s career all along: Turn the page

To try to save Marsh’s marriage with Dylan: Go to Episode 3