Eli's Law

“He’s gonna propose.”

Eli’s voice was breathless, eyes bright, the glow of the city lights flashing across her face as the cab rolled down Fifth Avenue. Her waves bounced around her cheeks, as she grinned at her phone screen, balancing it on herknee.

On the screen, chaos.

Maya rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible, messy bun threatening to topple as she adjusted her AirPods. “Ugh, Collin? Seriously, El? I’d rather scrub vomit off my crocs than see that man’s smug face.” She said, biting into what looked like a granola bar, the bright pediatric ward behind her buzzing with monitors.

“Gross,” Adam chimed in, his perfectly groomed eyebrows furrowing. He was lying on his couch in a silk robe, a face mask gleaming under the warm glow of his floor lamp. “Maya, I just ordered dinner. Don’t talk about vomit.”

Eli laughed, shifting in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Maya. Let me enjoy this, work has been tough lately and tomorrow they’re introducing a new partner.”

Maya held up a finger. “Some toddler projectile vomited on me ten minutes ago. I’m on break, don’t test me.”

“Ew,” Adam gagged, flipping the camera away before quickly flipping it back.

Evans, lounging behind the espresso bar at the café, whistled low. “Sounds like that kid is smart, Maya.”

“Shut up, Evans,” Maya shot back, taking another bite, eyes rolling again.

Evans winked at the camera, adjusting his beanie, the soft hum of jazz in the background. “El, congrats, honestly. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Just send me a pic of the rock so I can roast him if it’s small.”

Eli shook her head, biting back a smile as the cab turned.

“Guys, come on. This is good, right?” she said, quieter now, almost to herself. “We’ve been together forever. It’s the next step.”

Adam’s eyes softened, a rare, quiet moment. “We just want you to be sure, Eli. You deserve… you deserve everything.”

Maya sighed, checking her watch. “I have to go change. Some kid needs me, and I need to burn this scrub top. El, just promise me he’s offering you the biggest diamond in NYC to make up for his absolute mediocrity.”

Evans snorted. “You’re savage.”

“You’re annoying.”

Adam snapped his fingers, bringing the focus back. “El, keep us updated. We expect photos. And videos. And a full breakdown of what he says.”

Eli smiled, warmth spreading through her chest, even as nerves twisted low in her stomach. “Okay, okay. I will. I promise.”

“Love you,” Adam called.

“Love you, losers,” Maya added, waving with a latex-gloved hand before the screen shifted, ending her call.

Evans blew a dramatic kiss. “You got this, Wells.”

The cab rolled to a stop, the soft ding of the meter cutting into the moment. Eli glanced outside, seeing the warm glow of Le Baron’s entrance, the valet moving swiftly, a small crowd gathered under the soft gold lights.

The city air hit her as she stepped out, her heels clicking on the pavement, her heart hammering, her mind spinning. She smoothed her coat, touched the pearl pendant at her throat, lifted her chin, and walked toward the entrance.

Tonight was supposed to be the plan.

The moment Eli stepped in, the warm scent of butter, wine, and rosemary brushed against her senses, grounding her, reminding her that tonight was the night.

A host stepped forward immediately, offering a warm smile as he took her coat, careful with the soft wool. Another led her through the maze of tables, past men in sharp suits and women in elegant dresses who turned to look at her as she walked by.

Because Eli was beautiful.

Not in the loud, practiced way of the women who surrounded her, but in a quiet, striking way that made people pause—a cascade of thick, copper curls falling down her back in soft waves, pale skin dusted with freckles, green-blue eyes catching the warm light and reflecting it back with an unguarded glow. She wore a fitted emerald dress that hugged her figure, the neckline soft but hinting at the graceful curve of her collarbone, her pearl necklace resting above her heartbeat.

And for a moment, she felt like the version of herself she always hoped she’d be.

Collin wasn’t there yet.

The waiter, a young man with careful hands, offered, “A glass of wine while you wait, miss?”

She shook her head lightly, forcing a smile. “I’ll wait.”

She sat, smoothing the fabric of her dress under the table, crossing her legs, her heels brushing lightly against the polished floor.

Her thoughts turned, restless, as she glanced around the room.

He’s going to propose.

It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? What she planned for.

They had been together since university, meeting at a networking mixer where he had approached her with a smile that was easy and safe, offering her a beer while telling her about his plans for the future. Plans that aligned with hers: law degrees, city life.

Everything tidy, everything planned.

The sex was… fine. Vanilla. A box checked off. She tried to tell herself that passion was for movies, that real love was quiet and secure, that average was enough.

She pulled out her phone, checking the time.

Nothing.

Typing quickly, she sent a message.

Are you close?

The read receipt appeared almost immediately.

No reply.

Her stomach tightened, and she let out a shaky breath, signaling the waiter.

“Actually,” she said, forcing another smile, “I’ll take that glass now.”

The waiter nodded, returning moments later with a glass of deep red wine that stained her lips with the first careful sip.

Langstone & Creed.

The thought returned, unbidden, twisting in her chest.

When they offered her the position, she had felt like the world had finally seen her, recognized her hard work, her long nights, the way she handled cases with quiet precision.

But she said no.

Because she didn’t want to overshadow Collin, didn’t want to take a job that would put her in a higher position, that would challenge him to grow into a man she already knew he could never be.

She drained the glass, signaling for another.

In a year, she would be planning her wedding. In two, maybe they would have a dog, a golden retriever with a name like Oliver or Scout. In three, a baby. She would be tired but grateful, taking maternity leave while Collin advanced, waiting for him to come home.

“Miss, would you like another while you wait?”

She opened her mouth to answer when Collin appeared at the entrance.

Average handsome, with brown hair carefully parted, a sharp navy suit that clung a bit too tight around the shoulders, as if he were trying to fill shoes too large for him. His jaw was clean-shaven, a practiced smile on his lips as he scanned the room with a casual arrogance he had always carried, the entitlement of a man who came from old money, who had never known what it was like to want and not have.

He saw her, and for a moment, his smile faltered, returning quickly as he made his way to the table, checking his phone as he walked. Collin leaned down and kissed her cheek, the quick brush of his lips cold from the winter air, before sliding into the chair across from her.

Beside her, he looked out of place.

Too rehearsed, too small, too safe.

But Eli loved him.

Because he checked every box.

Because she was here, in this restaurant, in this dress, in this life she had chosen.

And everything was going to plan.

“Hey babe.” He raised a hand in a clipped gesture toward the waiter, signaling for service as he adjusted his cufflinks. “You look beautiful.” Without really looking at her. “Thanks.” She replied softly.

“Man, what a day,” he said, slipping off his coat and draping it behind him, reaching for the glass of water in front of him. “The partner meeting went over, as usual. I swear, if Ted talks about golf one more time, I’ll—”

Eli smiled politely, placing her napkin on her lap, her heart still fluttering, her mind wanting to hold on to the promise of tonight.

“Anyway, so I told him, the junior associate messed up the filing, and it’s not my job to babysit—” Looking down at his phone. Eli tried to ask him why he was late, but he carried on. “—And the board is just getting ridiculous with the deadlines. It’s like they think we don’t have a life outside of work.”

“Hum, oh really.” She said.

Dinner arrived, steaming plates placed in front of them, and for a moment, she thought she might be able to share with him how her day had been, how she had handled the arbitration meeting alone, how Lucia had complimented her on her cross-examination notes.

“It’s been busy at the firm,” she tried as she cut into her salmon, “I handled a client today that—”

Collin looked up, blinked once, then shrugged. “You know, El, you really shouldn’t take on so much. Your firm isn’t exactly the big leagues, and you get so stressed out for nothing.”

“You are right. I guess I like some challenge sometimes.” And smiled.

They ate, Collin pausing occasionally to complain about a junior associate or to check his phone, tapping out quick replies with an irritated sigh.

Then, as he reached for his wine, he sighed again, leaning back in his chair. “I need to wrap up all my files before the end of the month.”

That made her look up, startled. “Why?”

He paused, giving her that polished smile that never quite reached his eyes.

And then he raised his hand again, signaling the waiter. “This is why I brought you here tonight.”

Eli’s breath caught, her heart stuttering, warmth rising in her cheeks as the waiter returned, this time with a bottle of champagne, the cork popping softly in the hush of the restaurant.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her glass, her mind spinning.

It’s happening.

He’s going to propose.

Collin lifted his glass, holding it up, the soft golden light of the restaurant catching in the bubbles.

“Eliana Wells…”

She held her breath, the world narrowing to the curve of his lips, the way his eyes glinted under the light, waiting for the words she had imagined a thousand times.

“I got a job offer with Pratts & Gibbson,” he said, grinning, “Senior attorney. It’s a huge step up. Amazing money. Great connections.”

Her smile froze.

Collin raised his glass higher, nodding. “We’re moving to LA.”

The world didn’t stop, but it tilted, just slightly, just enough to send the warmth draining from her face, leaving her cold, empty.

She lowered her glass slowly, the bubbles rising in front of her eyes like a cruel joke.

“Moving… to LA?”

Collin laughed, rolling his eyes like she was being silly. “Yeah, babe. It’s an incredible opportunity. I can move in a few weeks, and you can join me in a month or two. I’m sure we can find you a spot at one of the local firms.”

She blinked. Once. Twice.

“Collin…” she whispered, “are you joking?”

He frowned, tilting his head. “What? No. This is exciting news, El. I know it’s a shock, but it’s what’s best for us.”

Her chest squeezed, her pulse roaring in her ears. “Us? You made a plan to move across the country without even asking me?”

“Come on, El,” he said, lowering his glass, irritation seeping into his voice, “Don’t do this. Your job is fine, but it’s not like you’re at Langstone & Creed or anything—”

Her jaw clenched. “I was offered a job at Langstone & Creed.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Are you trying to make me feel bad?”

“No, Collin,” she said, her voice trembling, “I’m trying to remind you that I gave up opportunities for you. For us. Because I thought we made decisions together.”

He scoffed, reaching across the table to take her hand, his grip firm, controlling. “Babe, don’t make a scene. This is what’s best for us. You’ll see.”

She looked down at his hand, where she had once imagined a ring, and saw nothing.

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, her chin lifting as she pulled her hand away.

“No.”

Collin’s eyes narrowed. “Eliana, don’t—”

“No,” she repeated, stronger this time, standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor, heads turning. “I am not moving to LA.”

“Don’t make a scene,” he hissed, eyes darting around, embarrassed.

“I thought you were going to propose,” she said, her voice shaking. “And you tell me we’re moving to LA without even asking me.”

He stood, reaching for her arm. “Eliana, don’t be ridiculous. You’re overreacting.”

She pulled her arm free, glaring at him with all the fire she had buried for years.

“No. I’m done.”

“Think about what you’re throwing away!” he snapped.

She looked him in the eye, letting the finality settle between them.

“There’s nothing here to throw away.”

She turned, walking out of Le Baron, her heels clicking on the marble, leaving him standing there, his mouth half-open.