Page 48 of Unconventionally, Elle

Six years ago

Jude walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers and a soft smile. He fell onto the white oversized couch that took up most of our living room and groaned with his hands over his face.

"You okay?" I looked over the couch at his long, lean body. "Don't forget, we have dinner plans at Galatoire's tonight, yeah?"

He met my eyes and raised his eyebrows. My Jude, my everything, had a look in his eyes I'd only seen once before. It was the summer of my senior year. Red flags materialized in my head.

"Oh my God, Jude, what's going on? Tell me." I fumbled around the couch and took a seat beside him. Even while only wearing a pair of blue-striped boxers, heat radiated from his bare body. He took a deep breath, then sent a caring look my direction.

"Elle, I . . ."

"Yes?" I prodded. The emotions of that summer resurfaced, and I felt jittery and uneasy. He sighed and shrugged.

"I got an amazing job offer," he said, "and before you ask, no, I wasn't looking."

"Oh." I relaxed a little. This wasn't terrible news. "Well, that's awesome. Congrats, babe. Why are you so upset?"

"You know I wanted to make partner here, but over the past year--maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself--I realized I'm miserable.

" He glanced at me with wide teary eyes.

"I've been so miserable fighting about Chinese drywall and going up against oil companies.

It's not rewarding to me, and I went into law to make a difference.

" A gentle grin graced his lips, then he continued.

"One of my law school buddies in New York reached out, and his firm is looking for someone to work in contract law, specifically creative contracts and negotiations. "

My eyes went wide. No.

"Elle"--he sighed again--"the offer is in New York City." He held my stare, waiting for my response. Did he expect me to be angry? Sad? Joyful? Even my brain couldn't figure out what it wanted to be in the moment.

I jumped off the couch, panicking and irrational. I don't remember what I said. I felt ice consume my body, fear flood my veins. He couldn't leave. My Jude, my love, the one I thought I'd marry. No, this can't be happening.

He stayed on the couch and listened; he didn't yell back.

He didn't move. He kept his eyes fixed on me and watched as I fell apart.

He never told me if he'd accepted the job or if he was moving.

I'll admit, I jumped to the conclusion right away.

I felt the pain in his eyes when I finally sat down and held his hands in a tight grip.

"You can't go, you can't. We're here. I'm here." My voice was beginning to crack, and he gave me a look of understanding. "I can't leave my job," I finally whispered.

"That's why I wanted to talk to you about it. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be without you. I want you to come to New York with me."

"Come with you?" I replied. "To New York City?" I had to be sure that's what I'd heard him say.

"Yes, come with me to New York. I don't want to do this without you. I don't want to let you go."

I should have felt calm, but the decision to leave felt heavy and thick in my stomach.

Either I would lose Jude, again, or lose my career I'd worked so tirelessly to build.

If I went to New York City, I'd have to completely start over.

I'd be dependent on Jude until I found someone else to hire me.

I didn't know if I could handle that loss of independence, of money, of my success.

But then, could I handle the loss of my life?

Sensing I couldn't answer him immediately, he sat up and kissed me on the forehead. Then he reached for my cold hands and held them tightly against his chest.

"Think about it, Elle. Please? But just know that I want to take this job. I want to leave and take you with me."

My stomach dropped. He was seriously considering--no, accepting this job.

"Jude..." I paused; the words didn't want to come out of my mouth.

"You know I can't." My chest tightened and my throat felt thick as I tried to keep my emotions bottled up for a little longer.

"I'm making lots of money now, and I've worked so hard to have this life.

I can't take it with me. I can't lose my independence.

You know that about me. I can't mooch off you in one of the most expensive cities.

" My heart was racing, and every thud felt like a punch to my chest.

"Is it success if you take a Xanax every day and hardly see the people you love?" he whispered, looking down at our hands in his.

"I think so," I replied with delicacy. "I mean, obviously I wish we saw each other more, I miss us. But the Xanax is fine; it calms me down. This is what work is. It's not easy and success isn't easy."

He let out a small sigh. "I'll agree to disagree with you, my love."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to fight with him, and he wasn't forcing me to go. He was asking.

"What is it for you?" I asked curiously. "Success?"

He looked up for a second, thinking, then his warm amber eyes held me breathless.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think helping others and having more free time and less stress will be part of mine.

Taking you to Europe, waking up next to you every morning, and having our coffee on a balcony. You are part of my success."

My mind was short-circuiting. "What about Ava?" I knew his mother would probably have the final say on this. She couldn't possibly be okay with this idea of moving to New York.

"I talked to her when I got the offer yesterday afternoon." He sounded so casual.

"Oh?" My eyebrows rose and I was at a loss for words.

"She supports me and thinks I should do what makes me happy." I noticed by the way he was speaking that he wanted me to support him too.

"I support you, babe. I really do." I released my hands from his and placed them on his thigh closest to me. "But how do we do this? We aren't college kids anymore. This isn't summer break."

"Elle, I love you. Think on it, okay?" His eyes, his golden-brown eyes pierced through my heart.

"They won't need me in New York until I finish my current case.

I can't leave it undone. It's not fair to my client when they went out of their way to hire me as their counsel.

It's looking like it will be around June. "

"So you're definitely accepting? No matter what I decide?"

"Yes." He didn't hesitate. "I'm happy with you, I'm in love with you, but my job is killing me.

I don't want to stay there till June, but like I said, I feel obligated to my client.

" I nodded in agreement, and he put his hand over mine, rubbing gently with his thumb.

"After I was approached, I looked to see if they had a division here, and they don't. Then I looked for other companies who may need someone for media law.

" His empathetic eyes told me what I needed to know.

He shrugged and continued. "The place for me to be is in New York City.

New Orleans doesn't have anything for me anymore, except you.

" He leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose.

"What are we going to do?" My voice was barely above a whisper. The tears were threatening to break through, and then I'd be lost.

"Come with me. Let's start over together," he whispered.

I couldn't speak. He was serious. Everything was about to change.

"But you've got plenty of time to think about it. It won't be until June, after all, and before any of that..." He stood up from the couch and walked over to our hall closet, where he pulled out a small felt box.

"Oh my God!" The words fell out of my mouth.

He looked at me, then down at the box, confused. "Ohhh." He shook his head from side to side in understanding. "Well, glad to know yes would have been the first word out of your mouth." He chuckled playfully. "This is a bit different than a ring box, okay?"

I nodded in relief. I mean, yeah, I would marry him in a heartbeat. But this job thing had me tied in knots.

"I love you, Elle. Merry Christmas." He handed me the box, and I realized it was a bit bigger than a ring box.

"My mistake." I gave him a bashful grin and opened my mystery present. "Oh my God." I held up a hand-painted ornament and admired the delicate design of a New Orleans streetcar on St. Charles Avenue.

At the very bottom written in silver lettering, it read, Jude and Elle, Christmas 2016 .