"I don't know what to do." The words tumbled out, faster now, escaping before I could lock them back down. "I love him. But I also want this fellowship. And he wants his program atObsidian. And we're both too stubborn to ask the other one to give anything up." I wiped my eyes roughly, though they were still dry. "How did we get here?"
"You didn't do anything wrong," Felice said gently. "You're just two people with big dreams who met at the wrong time."
"What if there's no right time? What if we're just not built to make this work?"
"Then you'll figure that out. But don't decide anything when you're this exhausted. You sound like you haven't slept in days."
"I haven't. Not really." I looked out at the lake, watching the ducks paddle past. Oblivious. Uncomplicated. "We were so happy here once. When he proposed. I thought nothing could ever touch us."
"Everyone thinks that in the beginning."
"So what, we were just naive? Foolish to believe we could make it?"
"Not foolish. Hopeful. There's a difference." Felice paused. "What does your gut tell you? Not your brain. Not the part of you that's been trained to assess every situation and calculate the best outcome. What does your gut say?"
I closed my eyes. The breeze off the lake was cool against my face, carrying the scent of water and mud and green growing things.
"That I don't want to lose him. But I also can't give up this opportunity. And I don't know how to have both."
"Maybe you can't. Maybe that's the reality you both have to accept."
"That's not helpful."
"I'm not trying to be helpful. I'm trying to be honest." Felice's voice was firm but kind. "You and Cassian are both brilliant surgeons with incredible opportunities. But sometimes brilliant people make terrible partners because they can'tfigure out how to compromise without feeling like they're losing themselves."
"So what, we just give up? Let our marriage collapse because we're too ambitious?"
"I didn't say that. But you need to be honest about what you want. Not what you think you should want. Not what would make Cassian happy or your father proud or your career advisors impressed. What do you want, Calla?"
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it. Because I didn't know. Or maybe I knew, and I was too scared to admit it.
"I want both," I whispered. "I want Cassian and I want the fellowship. I want to be a great surgeon and a good wife. I want everything." My voice broke, finally, cracking open on the last word. "And I'm starting to realize I can't have it."
"Not with the way things are now, no. But maybe if you and Cassian talked instead of circling around the problem, you could find a way through."
"We've tried talking. It always ends the same. Both of us exhausted and no closer to a solution."
"Then maybe the solution is accepting that you can't fix this right now. That doesn't mean you failed. It just means the timing is wrong."
I pressed my free hand against my chest, trying to ease the pressure building there. "I don't want to divorce him."
"I know. But wanting something and being able to make it work are two different things."
We talked for a few more minutes, Felice offering comfort I couldn't quite absorb. When we finally hung up, I felt more lost than before.
I sat on the bench, staring at the lake, trying to imagine a future without Cassian. Waking up alone. Coming home to silence. Building a career without the one person whounderstood what it cost me to hold a scalpel and play God with someone's life.
My phone rang. Baba appeared on the screen.
I almost didn't answer. My father had a sixth sense for when I was struggling, and avoiding him would only make him worry more. But I wasn't sure I could hold myself together through another conversation.
I answered anyway.
"Hi, Baba."
"Calla." His voice was warm, familiar, carrying the faint accent he'd never quite lost despite forty years in America. "How's my favorite daughter?"
"I'm your only daughter."
