I pour myself coffee and sit across from Tommy. He’s watching me with those perceptive five-year-old eyes that miss nothing.
“Are you sad?” he asks.
“Just tired.”
“You look sad.”
“I’m okay, Tommy. Promise.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he goes back to his cereal.
***
Jake comes home around noon. I’m in the kitchen washing dishes when I hear his truck in the driveway.
He walks in looking determined. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Too bad. We’re talking anyway.” He leans against the counter. “I called Alaska this morning. Told them I needed a few more days to make my final decision.”
“Jake—”
“Let me finish.” His voice is firm. “I know you’re upset. I know you think I’m sacrificing my career for you. But that’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s me being realistic. Someone is setting fires. You keep being at those fires. Until we figure out who’s doing it and why, you’re not safe.” He crosses his arms. “I can’t leave knowing that. I won’t.”
“So, I’m supposed to just let you throw away your dream?”
“It’s not thrown away. It’s delayed. There will be other research opportunities.”
“Not like this one. You said so yourself—this is career-defining.” I set down the dish I’m washing. “You’ve been waiting six years for something like this.”
“And I’ll wait longer if I have to.” He doesn’t budge. “Rachel, this isn’t up for debate. Either you’re safe, or I’m staying. Those are the options.”
“Those aren’t options. That’s manipulation.”
“Call it whatever you want. My decision is made.”
“I won’t agree to this,” I say quietly. “I won’t let you do this.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, I do. And I’m telling you right now. Go to Alaska. I’ll be fine here. I’ll be careful. I’ll—”
Doorbell rings.
We both stop, staring at each other.
“Expecting someone?” Jake asks.
“No.”
He heads to the front door. I follow, drying my hands on a towel.
Jake opens it.
