Perfect timing, had been Rylann’s first thought. It was September, which meant she’d have nine months to plan a June wedding. Not that she particularly cared about June, but there were work issues to think about: two of the female assistant U.S. attorneys in her office had just sprung the news that they were pregnant and planned to be off on maternity leave until May. If she and Jon got married in June, after the other AUSAs returned to the office, she’d be able to take two full weeks off for her honeymoon without feeling guilty about sticking someone else with the extra caseload.
After the waiter had poured their champagne, Jon clinked his glass to hers. “To new beginnings,” he said with a mischievous look.
Rylann smiled. “To new beginnings.”
They each took a sip, then Jon reached across the table and took her hand. As always, he looked handsome in his suit and with his dark hair perfectly styled. On his wrist he wore the watch she’d bought him for his last birthday. She’d spent more money on the gift than she’d intended, but he’d seemed oddly down about turning the big three-five, and she’d decided to splurge to cheer him up.
“So there’s something I want to ask you.” He stroked her fingers with his thumb. “You know that this last birthday got to me. Since then, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the direction my life is headed. And even though I know what I want, I think I freaked out because it’s such a big step.” He paused and took a deep breath.
Rylann squeezed his hand reassuringly. “You’re ner-
vous.”
He chuckled. “A little, maybe.”
“Just come out with it,” she teased. “We already have the champagne.”
With that, Jon looked into her eyes.
“I want to move to Italy.”
Rylann blinked.
“Italy?” she repeated.
Jon nodded, the words coming easier for him now. “A spot opened up in our Rome office, and I put my name in.” He threw out his hands and laughed like a kid who’d just been told he was going to Disney World. “Italy! How great is that?”
“That is…something.” Rylann did a mental headshake, trying to make sense of things. Jon was a partner at McKinzey Consulting, and he’d worked his butt off to get there. At times, recently, he’d seemed a bit apathetic about his job, but not once had he ever mentioned transferring to Italy.
“What brought all this on?” she asked, feeling as if she were talking to a casual acquaintance and not the man she’d been dating for the last three years.
Jon took a hearty sip of champagne. “It’s been on my mind for a while. I don’t know…I’m thirty-five years old, and I’ve never really done anything. I went to school; I got a job. That basically sums up my life.” He gestured offhandedly to her. “Same with you.”
Rylann felt a flash of defensiveness at that. “I moved to San Francisco after law school, not knowing a single person out here. I’d say that was pretty adventurous.”
“Adventurous?” Jon scoffed. “You moved here because you’d landed a clerkship with a federal appellate judge. Besides, that was seven years ago. Maybe it’s time for a new adventure.” He grabbed her hand again. “Think about it. We can get an apartment near the Piazza Navona. Remember that trattoria we found there, the one with the yellow awning? You loved that place.”
“Why, yes, I did. As a nice place to visit on vacation.”
“And here comes the sarcasm,” Jon said, sitting back in his chair.
Rylann stopped another quip from rolling off her tongue. Fair enough—sarcasm wasn’t going to help the situation right then. “I’m just trying to catch up here. This Italy plan seems to be coming out of left field.”
“Well, you had to know something was up, with the champagne and everything,” Jon said.
Rylann stared at him. Wow. He really had no clue. “I thought you were going to propose.”
The silence that followed had to be one of the most awkward and embarrassing moments of her life. And suddenly, she knew that Italy was the least of their problems.
“I didn’t think marriage was something you wanted,” Jon finally said.
Rylann pulled back in disbelief. “What do you mean? We’ve talked about getting married. We’ve even talked about having kids.”
“We’ve also talked about getting a dog and buying a new couch for the living room,” Jon said. “We talk about a lot of things.”
“That’s your answer?” Rylann asked. “We talk about a lot of things?”
Safe to say the sarcastic tone was back.
“I thought you were focused on your career,” Jon said.
Rylann cocked her head. Boy, she was really learning all sorts of interesting things tonight. “I wasn’t aware that having a family and a career were mutually exclusive.”
Jon shifted awkwardly in his chair. “I just meant that I figured marriage and kids were something we’d get around to later. Maybe.”
Rylann caught the last word he’d added in there. True, she had focused on her career over the last seven years, and didn’t have any regrets about that. Nor, frankly, did she plan to stop being career oriented. And as much as she typically liked plans, she hadn’t felt the need to rush things with Jon. She didn’t have a specific timeline in mind; she’d simply assumed that they would get married and start a family somewhere in her midthirties.
But now, seeing the way he toyed uncomfortably with his champagne flute, she realized this had become an “if”—not a “when”—situation. And she wasn’t willing to settle for that.
“Maybe?” she asked him.
Jon waved his hand, gesturing to the crowded restaurant. “Do we really need to have this conversation now?”
“Yes, I think we do.”
“Fine. What do you want me to say, Ry? I’ve been having second thoughts. Marriage takes a lot of work. Kids take a lot of work. I already kill myself at my job. I make good money, but I never have time to enjoy it. I’m not going to quit or take a leave of absence in this economy, so this transfer seemed like the perfect opportunity to do something for myself.”
He leaned in, his expression earnest. “Don’t make a bigger deal out of this than it has to be. I love you—at the end of the day, isn’t that all that truly matters? Come with me to Italy.”
But as Rylann sat there, staring into his dark hazel eyes, she knew it wasn’t that simple. “Jon…you know I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, I’m an assistant United States attorney. I’m thinking they don’t have a lot of job openings for those in Rome.”
He shrugged. “I make plenty of money. You don’t need to work.”
Rylann’s gaze sharpened. “If I’m supposedly so focused on my career, that’s not really going to sell me on this trip, is it?”
Jon sat back in his chair, saying nothing for a moment. “So that’s it?” He gestured angrily. “Going to Italy doesn’t fit into your ten-year plan or whatever, so you’re just going to choose your job over me?”
Actually, it was a twelve-year plan, and scrapping everything to move to Rome with no job and no prospects definitely wasn’t in it, but Jon was conveniently sidestepping the issue. “Moving to Italy might be your dream, but…it isn’t mine,” she said.
“I’d been hoping it could be our dream.”
Had he now? Rylann rested her arms on the table. Somewhere along the way, this had begun to feel like a cross-examination. “You said you asked for this transfer. Did you tell them you needed to discuss it with me before you committed to going?”
Jon met Rylann’s eyes with a look of guilt she recognized well, one she’d seen numerous times on the faces of the criminal defendants she prosecuted.