“She basically called you a lech. She said that a young, childless woman would make your life easier.”
“Sam, she’s not completely off-base here. I mean, I’m not a lech. But I understand why she’s concerned. She doesn’t want her daughter to be weighed down by someone else’s choices and responsibilities.”
“No one comes into a relationship as a blank slate,” I say. “Except bearded amnesiac Bruce Wayne.” He gives a little half grin, but he doesn’t laugh this time.
“What’s the…job she mentioned?”
“An administrative assistant at a college in upstate New York,” I say. “Someone’s about to go on maternity leave during the fall semester.”
“Thisfall?” He stops walking. “And you never thought to mention this to me?”
“It just happened over the weekend. And I’m not even sure I want to do it. Maybe I don’t want to spend four months in upstate New York.” My teeth dig into my lower lip.
“Would it be a good step?”
“Well…maybe…probably.”
After we resume walking in silence for half a block, he says, “This is reminding me of when I have to ask Kira twenty increasingly specific questions to get one simple answer.”
“When I had no reason to stay here it would’ve made perfect sense,” I say. “But now there are all these…complicating factors.”
“So go through it logically. What are the reasons to take the position?”
“Well, pretty soon I won’t have a place to live.”
“Definitely a complicating factor,” he says.
“And if I decide to stay, it could put weird pressure on you or us. You might feel responsible for me in a way you wouldn’t otherwise.” I rub the back of my neck. “And my mom would be disappointed.”
“That’s your ‘pro’ column?” Nick shakes his head. “Every rationale is about avoiding a conflict.”
The last few years of my life have pretty much exclusively been dedicated to that, haven’t they?
“Does the thought of being on a college campus sound exciting? I’d think a super nerd genius girl would jump at the chance to audit a class or something. I thought you couldn’t wait to leave Ohio.”
I feel a few stray raindrops hit the top of my head.
“I thought I’d be leaving to start a PhD program and it would feel exciting and like my life was finally starting again. This just…isn’t the same situation.”
“Just because it’s not the perfect opportunity doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.” His face softens. “I could say the same thing about myself.”
“How dare you make a dirty dad joke right now.” I stop and let him walk a few steps ahead. The rain is starting to mottle his hoodie. Just looking at it reminds me of that ridiculous night at Chili’s. How nice it felt to put on something soft and warm and dry and comforting. How nothing about the conversation we’re having now feels that way. I can sense him subtly steering me toward the “correct” decision. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”
He turns around and I know what he’s about to tell me.
“I can’t do that.”
“You’re allowed to want things, you know.” My voice is strained. “You can ask for what you want.”
He leans over to kiss me and he probably doesn’t even realize how much that little gesture means tome.
“I want things,” he says. “But I also don’t wantyouto miss out on things.”
“I don’t want to missthis,” I say, grabbing at the damp fabric of the hoodie.
“If I weren’t here,” he says, “would you want to live in Ohio? Take me out of the equation—”
“But you’re part of the equation! You’re real. You’re the fucking…I don’t know, denominator or something.” I’m staring at him hard because I don’t feel good about where this is going.
