I tug at the paper, drawing him into me until his right hand curves around my hip. The notebook page crumples when I flatten my palm against Lewis’s chest, and the fingers of my other hand find the nape of his neck, curl into his hair. But before I can move in to kiss him, I remember there’s something else he needs to know.
“One more thing,” I tell him. “Relating to point 8, setting boundaries. I won’t be taking the job.”
Lewis’s face falls. “I don’t understand. The job you want, the funding, it’s there. Even if it’s just to tide you over until you get your own grant, I checked with HR—I wouldn’t be involved in the interviewing process. Getting the job wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I made sure, I—” He drags his hand over his face, then fixates on me with what looks like desperation. “What do you want me to do, Frances? Tell me and I’ll do it.”
“You don’t have to do anything, you’ve done enough. This is not on you, but on me. It’s my decision how to move forward, and I’ve decided I won’t be taking the job. I need to do this for myself. I need to figure out what’s good for me.”
Lewis squints his eyes pensively. “So, what you’re saying is… you’ll have me, but far away? Did you get any news from the lab in Melbourne?” His hand lifts to the back of my head and he unfurls his fingers, pulling me closer.
“Hold on, no.” I stop him. “Let me finish explaining.”
I take a step away, even though I’d love to stay nestled up to him. But I need to look at him for this, need him to see me. I need to have this conversation without hiding.
“I’m not going to take the job with Rosanna. In fact, I’m not going to take any other job in any other lab,” I tell him, and it’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. It’s scary and unfamiliar, and my heart beats furiously in my chest, but it also feels right. “I’m leaving academia. Hopefully, if it all works out, just for a little while. If they’ll have me, I’ll work four days a week as a researcher at Codify, Maria’s start-up. And if I miss academia, I’ll apply for another round of grants, with Rosanna as my mentor, with a project that’s really mine. If it doesn’t work out, well, I gave it one last shot. But if it does…”
“You’d have enough funding to build up your own research line next year, in Amsterdam,” Lewis finishes my sentence for me.
I nod slowly. “I need to learn how to set boundaries for myself and my career. Like, what I’m willing to do for it and where I need to draw a line for my own sake.”
He brushes my hair out of my face and I can’t help but lean into his touch. “I’m proud of you for doing what you need to do, Frances. I’ll be here to help whichever way I can. And when you get the job, Maria is lucky to have you.”
“IfI get the job,” I correct him, because even thoughI feel good about today’s interview, I don’t want to get my hopes up.
“Nah.Whenyou get it.” His confident tone infuses my chest with a calm energy. Then, his face splits into a shy grin. “Amsterdam, huh?”
His smile is infectious. “I thought it’d be good if I was close,” I muse. “You know, in case you ever need last-minute help for overly long abstracts.”
We stand there, drunk with happiness. Now that I can look at him more closely without fear, I notice the dazzling pop of blue that are his eyes and how long his hair has gotten since I saw him last.
“Can I kiss you now?” he murmurs.
I nod.
And then he does. As his lips move over mine, I can’t believe I ever wanted to run away from this. Now, all I want is to lean in. To run headfirst into thatuswe’ve started to build. Some may call it Murphy’s Law, and others serendipity, but the fact is that sometimes our plans don’t work out and sometimes they surprise us, leading to something beautiful.
When I draw back, I take Lewis’s hand and interlace our fingers. We’re back where we started, with his hand wrapped around mine, reassuring me with a quiet comfort. “So, about item 14 on that list…”
“What is it?”
“I’m not quite sure I understand what you meant.”
“Maybe you’ll get it when I say it a few more times,” he whispers into the pocket of space between us. I want to cartograph the crinkles that form around the corners of his eyes and build a home in the soft hum of his words. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He presses our interlocked hands to his heart, trusting me with the steady beat of it.
EpilogueSeven months later
It’s Friday, the middle of the day, and someone pounds on the door so hard I worry they’ll punch a hole through it. But then the lock turns and the door opens.Thud, thud, creak, go the stairs, and Lewis appears in the center of my oddly shaped living room, rain dripping from his hair onto the collar of his denim jacket. The dusting of red at the top of his cheeks tells me he hurried here, but the hammer he carries in one hand, and the brown paper package in his other are entirely confusing.
“Have you checked your email?”
All of this plays out in less time than it takes my mind to resurface from the code I’ve been writing. I blink at Lewis, the urgency in his voice slowly filtering through. Apparently too impatient to wait for me to catch on, he’s already crossed the room to where I’m sitting at the kitchen table amidst a sea of research papers, a ring-bound manuscript of Brady’s finished first draft of her novel, orange Post-it notes, and three cups with varying quantities of leftover coffee.
“Did you steal Brady’s book again?” he asks as his hands hover over the cluttered surface.
“You read too slowly,” I point out.
“I’m just making sure she’s getting all the science right.”
