Palm Springs, Last Wednesday

The spinach was stuck between my teeth, and I couldn't stop running my tongue against it. A nervous habit, like the way my father used to tap his wedding ring against his whiskey glass during those long, silent dinners with mother.

I was at the annual partners' retreat at the Parker in Palm Springs, surrounded by men in linen suits who smelled of expensive cologne and quiet desperation. The air conditioning hummed against the desert heat pressing against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Palm trees stood like sentinels outside, their fronds catching the last light of day—brown and dry at the edges, like the ends of my own marriage.

"You're not eating your salad, David," said Marcus, the managing partner. He'd flown in from Chicago for this. He always flew in for things. His third wife was twenty-six. He'd told me this yesterday by the pool, like it was a victory rather than a cry for help.

"Not hungry," I said. That morning, the vet had called about Buster. My golden retriever, sixteen years old, kidneys failing, the inevitable arithmetic of aging. I'd booked a flight home for tomorrow morning, missing the final day of strategic planning sessions.

Marcus raised his martini. "To another record year."

The others echoed him. I raised my glass, my palm sweating against the cold crystal. I'd been here fifteen years, climbing from associate to partner, billing 2200 hours last year, missing my daughter's graduation, Buster's puppy years, the slow erosion of everything that had once seemed solid.

"David," Marcus said. "You good?"

I looked at the spinach wilting on my plate. At the palm trees swaying in the wind. At these men I'd spent half my life trying to impress.

"My dog is dying," I said, surprised by my own voice. "And I think I need to go home."

The table went quiet. Marcus set down his drink.

"Right. Of course."

I stood up, leaving my meal untouched. Outside, the desert stars were finally coming out, brilliant and indifferent, and for the first time in years, I knew exactly where I was going.