Natalia

Running the third circle around MB Tech campus is when I get the second wind. The burn in my lungs dulls and I push my thigh muscles past the lingering fatigue of my daily runs. If I ever get to my new neighborhood before nighttime, I'd figure out a running route there. For now, coming to work earlier and getting my run in, has grounded me enough that when Samson and I cross paths in the hallway, I can walk by him and pretend I don't notice he looks worse than I do.

I stroll through the still empty building, grab my black stretchy pants that supposedly look like slacks but feel like yoga leggings, and a black shirt that could also be a workout t-shirt if not for some lace trim on the puff sleeves. My attempt at appearing more boss-like. I'm managing a lab now. Looking the part is a part of the game.

My favorite shower in the building is on the first floor. I stand in the enclosure surrounded by the iridescent teal tile that makes the space feel a little like a place of rest and not part of the wash-and-go routine I've been using it for. I lather for the second time, massage my aching body, and return under the extra-hot stream. The heavy wet mass of my hair lays heavy down my back like the embodiment of the weight that settled over me since I broke up with Samson.

Today I'm signing my life away.

No. Not away, that sounds like I'm getting a prison sentence. But for the next six months, I'm no longer ambling from work to the duplex, wondering if work would be enough purpose for now. If that's all I'm supposed to enjoy in life. Not everyone has kids, and they live happy and fulfilled lives. I could too, but not before I exhausted every option first. I can't give up before I even start trying.

I wrap my hair in one of the burrito towels I brought from my new home. My temples ache from the eye strain over the last week. Good thing I've written as well as read mountains of scientific paperwork and contracts before this deal with Phillip. The pages upon pages Phillip's lawyer has been sending my way are a familiar pattern. Similar to the ones we draw up trying to anticipate all the things I'd need for a study before it begins. Smart, necessary, but sure to be incomplete.

Minimal makeup is the best I can do on my own. I take the red lipstick Kate insisted is now mine and put it back into my bag, sticking with my standard mint-flavored clear Sugar lip gloss. Flats and a light gray jacket complete my ensemble. Without a hairdryer, I opt for a braid. I could be a generic office worker of any kind. Nothing screams 'scientist'. Nothing screams 'broken on the inside'. The clothes hold the power of making me appear like I know what I'm doing, no matter how many questions are knocking on the locked doors in my chest.

First on today's checklist are the animals for the current in vivo. Check. Make sure the interns' questions are answered. Check. Verify that the gamma counter is still working after I finished fixing it yesterday. Check. Ignore Samson's attempts at trying to start a conversation. Check. Answer the emails. The alarm on my phone alerts me that it's time to leave for my meeting with Phillip. The square for the check mark remains blank. I'll finish them at night.

I down the leftover water from my tumbler, undo the hair-tie, and run my fingers through the slightly damp, messy waves. My muscles hum from my earlier run, but the calm that I created in the morning lifts, exposing my doubts and my desperation. The scratching behind my breastbone sends threads of anxious prickles down my arms. I fold them on my desk and rest my forehead on my forearms. I kill the shakiness in my hands by squeezing them into tight fists. The fear doesn't get to win. It's been so long since I've felt my heart want anything so much. I'm getting what I want. No matter what.

The drive to the lawyers' offices takes less than half an hour, and I sit in my car for ten before it doesn't seem like I'm too early or too eager.

Instead of an old-school wood paneling and dark hallways I imagined the offices would contain when I read the documents, the law firm is all chrome and glass. Ready for a TV show to be filmed. Dressing up might have been my best idea of the day, because even in my most corporate-office attire I'm still under-dressed. Even the receptionist could be on the cover of some glossy magazine. I follow her along one of the corridors with offices revealing modern stand up desks and abstract paintings full of primary colors.

No one pays attention to me or what I'm wearing. I square my shoulders and enter through the glass door in a glass wall. The three people inside turn my way. Phillip catches my gaze, rises with a smile, and, before I can extend my hand, wraps me in a light hug. The smell of his cologne I detected on the roof hits me. I force myself to keep my eyes open so I don't melt into the embrace or begin sniffing him. Our chest-to-chest contact ends, and his hand lands on my lower back as he closes the door behind me.

"This is Nata." He invites me to the seat next to the spot he occupies.

The man and the woman who sit opposite us exchange a look I don't know how to interpret. I sit down. I need to open my mouth before this gets any more awkward.

"Glad to be here," I say. That is true, but also generic enough not to draw attention. My heart rattles in my throat. I've been to so many meetings that this should not be causing the palpitations in my chest. I pull my chair forward to cover up my shaky breaths.

The man in a smart navy suit across from me unsteeples his fingers. "I'm Kittisak Saetand, but please call me Kit." He leans over the desk, and I shake his hand. "I'm Phillip's personal lawyer."

I nod. I've seen his name on every email and document. Although we have not met in person, I feel like I do know him.

The woman next to Kit in her burned-orange suit and cream blouse blends with the white and orange walls of the room. "I'm Lia Grande." We both rise for another shake over the table. "I'm Kit's colleague. I usually deal with cases involving prenups, divorces, and parental disputes."

"Makes sense," I say on an unsteady breath out. The shakiness in my chest doesn't subside. Nothing I'm doing here is bad. Why do I feel like I'm cheating? Like I'm trying to sneak ahead in a line or fool some unsuspecting victim? "Have you seen an arrangement like our before?"

Lia and Kit exchange another glance of the same variety as before. The best way I can decipher it is that they're trying to not tell me everything they're actually thinking about what Phillip and I are attempting to do.

That's the exact opposite of what I need. In science, sharing opinions, even if they aren't the ones you want to hear, is vitally important. Every peer who reviews my work has a different angle into the projects I do, and them pointing out the potential pitfalls in my logic or conclusions, is much more important for a successful outcome than keeping my ego intact. Not that I have to take all of their opinions into consideration, but I want to have them right there on the table. I want to examine what they saw and make the decision for myself.

"Not quite." Kit gives me a polite smile and glances at Phillip, as if he's in charge here.

I interlace my fingers and lean onto my elbows. "Let me be straight with you." If I want them to be honest with me, I must lead with honesty. I take another breath in and out and focus on my fingers. "I know this is unconventional, and I understand that most likely it's not something either of you will advise we proceed with, as you've seen the ugly parts that relationships bring out in people."

I lift my eyes to Lia. Her line of work must have made her a pessimist where people are concerned. She can't see the ugly scenes my parents went through before their divorce scrolling on an imaginary white screen of my mind, but I think she gets something in my eyes, because her expression softens.

"I do know how ugly it can get," I say. "And that's exactly why I think this is a better way. One that can lead to both Phillip and me getting what we want. Without the ugliness. Without the hell that parents battling over a kid can be."

Phillip's hand covers mine, and I don't need to look at him to know we're on the same page. "What I'd like for us to do here today is to be straight and clear with each other." I lift my chin at the two lawyers. "Tell us what we are missing, where we are naïve, where you can see this going wrong, and let's come up with the best plan we can right now with the knowledge we have on hand."

Lia and Kit give me the barely there smiles of agreement.

"What she said." Phillip's tone spreads prickles down my spine. I can sense the smile in his voice.

How is he smiling now? This is serious business.

I glance over my shoulder at him and catch his eyes smiling at me as well. The spark of electricity jumps from his gaze into my chest, and the energy there changes. His fingers are warm over mine. The pull of his look, his touch, his smell, his smile, of his everything is so powerful, I can feel him set my cells on fire one by one, lighting me up. I should take my hands away from Phillip, before the sparks ignite something that has no place in this negotiation, but I can't. I remain exactly where I am. I can't deny what I'm feeling, but I can control it. I push the sparks aside, and stretch my lips into a less than genuine smile at Lia and Kit. "Do you think you can be honest with us?"

"We can do that," says Lia.