“You’ve been quiet all day,” he said, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “Is this the part where you tell me about it?”
I drew in a slow breath, trying to line up the words in my head without tripping over them. “I… I got an email last night. From the principal of the school I used to work at.”
The curiosity in his eyes clouded over to resemble the feeling I’d been trudging around with all day. Not fear exactly, but notnotfear. I didn’t know what it was, and after coming up empty despite my best efforts, I’d hoped talking to him might give me the clarity I needed.
I searched his eyes for it and after a few seconds, chuckled softly. Because of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
“They’re offering me a job.” My voice was quieter than intended.
He blinked, then shifted slightly, pulling his hand back from my leg as he adjusted his position on the couch so there was more space between us. The subtle retreat pressed something tight inside me. A little pang of recognition that this wasn’t just about a job.
“Oh,” he said finally, keeping his tone neutral, but the pause stretched long enough for me to feel the tension coil.
And he wasn’t looking at me anymore.
“It’s… at a new private school. They’re looking for a kindergarten teacher.” My hands fidgeted with the edge of my sweater. “It’s exactly the kind of opportunity I’ve been waiting for. It’s… it would get me back on track. Back to the life I had planned.”
He nodded, but the change in his posture made me wonder if he was measuring his words, or maybe just measuring me.
“What are you asking me, Maren?” he asked finally, and the question wasn’t just about the job.
I laughed, a little humorless, trying to shake the gravity off. “I don’t know if I should take it. I mean, it’s what I’ve been working toward, obviously. What I’ve wanted. But I keep thinking about… everything else.”
He leaned back slightly, the leather creaking beneath him, his gaze back on me but his body speaking a language that instantly set me on edge. Distance. Retreat. A subtle reminder that we weren’t just two people talking about careers. That unspoken line between ‘what we had’ and ‘what I was about to walk back into’ was hovering over us, invisible but undeniable.
“If you’re referring to this job—”
“I’ve been thinking about it all day. I keep running it in loops in my head. The pros, cons, the kids. And… you.” My words stumbled into the space between us, raw and unguarded.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as though he were trying to map my thoughts. “Maren, you have a degree in education. Like you said, it’s what you’ve worked for. What you planned.”
I nodded, silent for a moment. His unexpected calmness made the choice loom larger, heavier, more urgent. He wasn’t giving me anything about how he really felt. His walls went up the second I mentioned the email.
I swallowed, trying to steady my voice. “I just don’t want to screw anything up. I’ve lost enough. Everything I thought I had under control.”
“Looks like you found something you can control,” he said. “It’s your plan. I won’t stand in the way of that. Do what you need to do.”
His words hit me like a sheet of solid ice. I’d expected support, maybe acknowledgement of how I felt—but not this. Not the cold detachment.
And that opened a door in me. A whole swell of emotion I hadn’t fully faced. Frustration. Relief. Longing. And something darker, something sharp that twisted around the edges of my chest. It wasn’t just Ethan I was thinking about. Miles. Adrian. How they had tangled themselves into my days, into the corners of my life I hadn’t realized were empty until they filled them.
I sat there feeling caught between the pull toward what I thought I should want, and what I didn’t even know I wanted. My hands clenched lightly in my lap, stomach twisting. The room felt smaller somehow, like the air had thickened with everything I didn’t know how to say, everything I hadn’t admitted, everything I’d tried to keep tucked away until I figured out which way to turn.
And there he was, calmly stating he wouldn’t stop me. Cold, precise. Not uncaring—far from it—but it made it all crash into me that much harder. Not just the reality of the job offer that would fix it all. But them. The question of what it was I really wanted. Who I was letting myself become.
I looked at him and realized that the calm detachment in his eyes was a challenge. Maybe even a dare. And it only made my heart pound harder, my chest tighten more, my thoughts spin faster.
I swallowed, feeling a mix of guilt, yearning, and sheer, dizzying uncertainty. This was bigger than a job. This was bigger than a plan. And he was making it seem like nothing. Like everything that had happened between us was… nothing.
A scream shattered the quiet enveloping us. We shared a look, and jumped up at the same time.
I bolted upstairs to the girls’ bedroom, my heart already in my throat. Emma’s eyes were wide, frozen in shock, but it wasSadie who had my full attention. She was crouched on the bed, clutching something furry against her chest.
“Look! Look what I found!”
I swallowed back a terrified squeak. A raccoon, squirming and chattering, its tiny claws scratching at the blanket Sadie had him wrapped in. My stomach dropped. Of course. Of course this would happen now. My calm, measured plan to talk to Ethan about the school offer evaporated in a single second.
“Sadie,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, “Sweetheart, we can’t keep it.”
