Souvenir - Chapter 4.4
Still, I liked it.
“Well, if I do die, you can have my stuff,” I said dryly. “Guess I should put that in my will.”
We bumped fists—our usual way of acknowledging when we were on the same page.
Joking aside, Alex’s expression sobered.
“You were out for three whole days,” he muttered. “I was actually worried, you know.”
“Sorry.”
I pressed a hand against my stomach. There was a strange, cold sensation there—a dull, unpleasant reminder of what had happened.
But I was alive.
I hadn’t died.
“Speaking of which,” I murmured, “what happened to the guy who stabbed me?”
Alex’s face darkened.
He shook his head and gave a helpless shrug.
That told me everything I needed to know.
“…I see. So, I won’t even have the chance to press charges.”
Alex let out a disbelieving laugh. “Press charges? You wanted to sue him?”
“It was a joke,” I said lightly. “But if he had survived, I’d have liked to see him held accountable.”
“You really are a lawyer through and through. It’s sickening.”
He sighed, then smirked.
“Anyway, by tomorrow morning, you’ll be in every newspaper as the brave attorney who saved a little girl—a real-life hero. The reporters are dying for the story. Apparently, one already showed up at the hospital front desk.”
I groaned. “Can you tell your contacts to kill the story? I have no interest in attracting more clients. I prefer things as they are—steady referrals, quiet reputation.”
Alex shook his head. “You really hate being in the spotlight, huh? This is a prime opportunity to boost your business, you know. What a weird American you are.”
Hearing him call me American made me a little self-conscious.
“You just like attention,” I countered. “You know I’ve never been that kind of person.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll stop by my guy’s office before heading back.”
“…But if he insists on publishing something, make sure it says Alex Jacobs, senior partner at the firm, was also heavily involved.”
Alex’s grin widened.
“See? Now you’re talking.”
I had a feeling he had been expecting that response.
He leaned back, looking downright pleased with himself. “Well, well. That means I owe you one, doesn’t it?”
“You can pay me back later.”
“How about a place with purebred kittens next time?”
“With a fine bottle of Chardonnay, of course.”
He chuckled, then pulled a card from his pocket. “By the way, your secretary and team wanted me to pass along a message. Everything’s running smoothly—your cases, your meetings, all of it. No need to worry.”
That was reassuring.
“The first thing I thought of when I woke up,” I admitted, “was a new legal precedent that could impact one of my cases.”
Alex let out an exaggerated groan. “God, you really are a lost cause.”
“I’m afraid so.”
He clapped me on the shoulder and burst out laughing—only to be promptly scolded by the nurse who had come in to change my IV.
Still, he was unmistakably Alex—showing up in a perfectly tailored charcoal-gray suit, his naturally wavy blond hair slicked back but refusing to stay tamed.
And, of course, by the time the nurse finished her work, he had already managed to get her phone number.
I watched the exchange out of the corner of my eye, using the moment of clarity the painkillers had granted me to think ahead.
I had good people in my life—my staff, my colleagues, my friends.
Despite my quiet, reserved nature, I had somehow surrounded myself with genuinely decent people.
Alex slipped the nurse’s number into his pocket, then turned to me with an uncharacteristically serious expression.
“So. About the kid.”
I sat up slightly.
“My ex-wife runs a child welfare service,” he admitted, looking vaguely annoyed. “I figured I’d talk to her about adoption options.”
I exhaled.
I knew he hated dealing with his ex.
“I’ll be blunt,” he continued. “I have zero intention of ever looking that woman in the eye again. But if you reach out first—”
I held up a hand.
“Give me a few days to think about it.”
“…Meaning?”
I met his gaze.
“Before Vera died,” I said quietly, “she asked me to take care of her.”
Alex stared at me.
“…Wait. You’re actually considering raising her yourself?”
“Yes.”
He let out a sharp breath.
“You do realize you’re still single, right? And that if you get married, this could make things complicated? Even you would have to consider legal custody disputes, child support—”
I smirked. “I thought you were against marriage in all cases except the literal last two people on Earth.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start with me.”
It was funny—I wanted to laugh. But the stitches in my side made even a grin feel like a sharp pull against my skin.
“I’m a workaholic,” I reminded him. “Marriage isn’t even on my radar.”
It was true.
I had never once seriously considered marriage.
But Su—I did care about her.
“…I get it,” Alex muttered. “Still, take your time. Celebrities adopt kids left and right, but this is you we’re talking about. If you do go through with it, think about how it might impact your future.”
“I will. I just need a few days.”