“That’s… incredible!” Her voice was genuine, if measured. “When do they need an answer?”
“I already said yes.”
The room went quiet. Calla set her wine glass carefully, blinking in confusion. “You what?”
“I said yes. It’s perfect, Calla. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. And you can transfer too. Obsidian’s always looking for talented trauma surgeons. We can build this together.”
“Cassian.” Her voice was flat. Dangerously flat. “I got an offer too.”
The excitement drained out of me like water from a cracked glass. “What?”
“A fellowship in Europe. It’s a two-year fully funded work, with surgeons whose research I’ve been following since residency.” She held my gaze, her expression unreadable. “The International Trauma Consortium.”
I knew the name. Everyone in trauma surgery knew it by heart. It was the most prestigious fellowship program in the world, an opportunity that launched careers into the stratosphere.
It was also eight thousand miles away.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Well. You’ll have to turn it down.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, I just accepted this position. We can’t both be making major career moves at the same time. But that’s fine, because you can work at Obsidian. Problem solved.”
Calla’s eyes went cold. “You decided that without talking to me first.”
“Because it’s the obvious choice. This is what I’ve been building toward. What we’ve been building toward.”
“No.” She stood up from the table, her chair scraping against the floor. “It’s what you’ve been building toward. You made a decision about our future without even asking what I wanted.”
“What you wanted?” I could feel my frustration rising, hot and defensive. “You can’t leave for two years, Calla. We’re married. We have a life here. A home. Plans.”
“A life you just rearranged without consulting me.”
“That’s different. I’m staying. I’m building something here that includes both of us. You’re talking about moving to another continent.”
“And you’re talking about making decisions for both of us.” Her hands were clenched at her sides, knuckles pale. “This is a marriage, Cassian. Not a dictatorship. You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do with my career.”
“I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to be practical. One of us has to be.”
“Practical?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You accepted a job offer without even mentioning it to me first. You spent all day planning your future without once considering that I might have plans of my own. And you’re calling that practical?”
“I’m calling it making a decision that benefits both of us.”
“Benefits both of us?” She stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “You told me to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime so I can follow you to your dream job. How exactly does that benefit me?”
“Because we’d be together. Building something together. Isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be?”
“Marriage is supposed to be a partnership. Not one person sacrificing everything while the other person gets exactly what they want.”
“Sacrificing everything? Calla, I gave up the Cleveland fellowship for you.”
I hadn’t meant to say them. Hadn’t meant to throw that in her face after all this time. But they were out now, and I couldn’t take them back.
Calla went very still. “What?”
“Two years ago. Cleveland Clinic offered me a position in their trauma innovation program. It would have meant moving, starting over, leaving everything behind.” I could hear my voice shaking and hated myself for it. “I turned it down because you were up for chief resident here. Because your career was taking off and I didn’t want to ask you to give that up. I made that choice without even telling you about it because I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”
“You never told me about Cleveland.”
