"I'm not—"
"Oh you totally are."
"Wren—"
"You framed a photo. Of your girlfriend. And you're blushing about it."
"Can we just eat the pudding?"
"No. Absolutely not. We're talking about this."
She crosses back to the couch, drops onto the cushions, pulls the bag toward her, and opens it.
I grab two spoons from the drawer.
The smell of vanilla and caramel fills the room.
"So how's this working out? You know, with your whole 'I'm disappearing to the ends of the earth for three months' thing?"
"So far it's working."
"Tom. You've never done a relationship while doing your—" she makes air quotes with her fingers—"nomad photographer act.How is that actually working?"
"We're figuring it out." I keep my eyes on the bag between us
She's not buying it. She leans forward, spoon halfway to her mouth. "What about that South America project? The luxury hotel campaign you were excited about?"
"I turned it down."
Her eyebrows lift. "Why?"
"I didn't have time to prep. It overlapped too much with the final Harbor District presentation."
I pause. She's already smiling. She knows there's more.
I exhale. "You're just going to drag it out of me, so—yes. I also didn't want to be away from Sam."
"There it is." She points her spoon at me like she’s been waiting for that answer.
"We finally had some actual time together. Not just working. Just being together. And I don't know, it just didn't feel like a good time to be gone for three weeks."
Her expression softens. "You really like her, don't you?"
I look at the framed photo, then back at Wren. "Yeah. I really do."
"This doesn't feel like a 'for now' thing."
"No. It doesn't."
"So what does that mean? Are you turning down all the out-of-town work now?"
I scrape the spoon along the bottom of the cup.
"We've talked about it. Shorter jobs are fine. Longer ones—we'll figure it out when they come up. But right now? I just can't see being away from her. Not for any real length of time."
She leans back. "That's new."
I shrug. "I know."
