She’s already writing us off. Already seeing the impossibility instead of the solution. Already treating this like a failed extraction when we haven’t even attempted the drilling yet.
“So we’re just what?” My voice comes out harder than I intend. “A nice survival fuck that we forget about once we’re back in civilization?”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracks. “Don’t make it sound like that.”
“Then tell me what it sounds like, Sorrel.” I’m pushing now, but I can’t stop myself. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re giving up before we even try.”
“I’m not giving up.” She wipes a sudden tear off her cheek. “I’m being realistic. You live in Manhattan. I live in Boulder. You’re a billionaire. I’m broke. How exactly does this work?”
She’s not wrong.
We have two separate lives.
Live in two separate cities.
It’s the kind of assessment I’d make in a boardroom when evaluating a merger.
But this isn’t a fucking merger.
This isher.
This isus.
And I didn’t survive almost a week trapped in this chalet, didn’t fall for a woman who challenges everything I thought I knew about myself, just to lose her because the logistics are complicated.
“Then we find a way,” I say quietly. “Boulder to Manhattan is a three hour flight. I can work from anywhere with an internet connection. You need lab access and field sites, fine. I’ll figure it out.”
“Gregory...” She’s looking at me like it’s hopeless. Like I’m proposing we extract minerals using nothing but a fucking spoon.
“I didn’t survive this week just to lose you.” I finally speak my mind. The words come out almost angry, because I’m terrified she doesn’t feel the same. That maybe for her this really was just proximity and adrenaline and nothing more.
She nods slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I need more than that. Need her to fight back. Need her to tell me she wants this too, that she’s willing to try, that I’m not alone in this fucking mess of feelings.
She finally says, “You’re not listening. We can’t do this. Any of this. We got caught up in the moment. In proximity and danger and... and... adrenaline!”
My face hardens. I feel the defensive walls slamming up, the same ones that protected me after Caroline left, after Derek betrayed me, after every goddamn person I’ve trusted has proven that trust is just another commodity to be exploited.
“Is that what you think this is?” My voice goes cold. “Adrenaline?”
She bursts into tears. “I don’t know!” She blubbers. “Howcanwe know? We’re living in a snow globe, not the real world. In the real world, you’re a billionaire CEO who thinks your life’s work is destroying the planet.”
And there it is.
The impossible gulf between us.
I should back down.
Because I know she’s right.
I’ve been telling myself we could make this work.
That we could find a way.
But the truth is, I’ve been lying to myself.
And to her.
