Tara was very effective in front of a jury.

“I need to go be with my family. I need to go home to Carrigan’s,” Miriam told her.

Tara stared back. “Miriam. One: Carrigan’s is not home, it is a place you spent vacations. I’ve never even heard of it until today. Two: You are estranged from your family. Three: You’re Jewish, and Carrigan’s is, apparently, a Christmas tree farm.”

Tara always argued in numbered lists, without giving anyone breathing room, so that by the time she got to point five, you’d forgotten what point one was. It was a great lawyer trick, but a less charming girlfriend trick.

Miriam took a deep breath, though a tsunami of grief threatened to swallow her. She stuffed it down, as she’d done with all her feelings for so long now, and tried to be fair to Tara.

Tara wasn’t fixating on law firm dinners for nothing. She’d built her criminal defense practice to ensure fair trials for those victimized by the very systems her family had upheld for generations. But to reform those power structures from within, she needed to maintain access to them. To keep herself from being ostracized, especially as a lesbian, she was always skating a fine line. She skated it beautifully, gracefully, from years of practice—but with enormous effort.

Miriam couldn’t be mad at Tara for panicking a little, even if her grief wanted someone to lash out at.

She jumped off the couch and wiped away tears.

“I’ll be back right after shiva. I promise. I’ll do all the rounds with you, be the perfect fiancée,” Miriam said, grabbing her scarf and coat, then the forgotten carry-on. “I need one week, then we can go back to pretending my old life never existed. Believe me, I’ll be ready for that after seven days with my mother.”

“Let me meet you in a couple of days,” Tara said, her voice softer. “I need to rearrange a few things, because I’m supposed to be at trial, but I can make it work. Then we can come home together.”

Miriam couldn’t stomach the idea of managing Tara’s almost certain dislike of the eccentric, cluttered chaos of Carrigan’s, introducing her parents, being present for Tara while also trying to get through the week herself. It was kind of Tara to offer, but Miriam didn’t want Tara to be a part of this. She wanted her Before and After lives to stay very, very separate.

“We both know you can’t, Tara.” Miriam shook her head. “There’s no way they can spare you from your trial, and you can’t have your phone at shiva! Your client is relying on you, and my family is going to be as much as I can handle.”

Tara never let down a client, which Miriam admired immensely. It also allowed Miriam an easy out.