Maurice laughed. “Finn looks at me like that too.”
They shared a quiet moment, the train humming beneath them, sunlight slipping through the blinds in thin stripes.
David sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if the thought physically weighed on him. “They live far away.”
Maurice’s stomach tightened in that slow, sinking way that came with reality creeping back in. “Yeah.”
“Finn’s in Boston,” David said. “That’s practically another world. Snow half the year, traffic that makes you want to walk everywhere.”
Maurice laughed. He could picture it too easily—Finn bundled up in some heavy coat, cheeks pink from the cold, nowhere near Virginia.
“And Theo’s in Philly,” David added. “That’s a four-hour drive on a good day. And you know I-95 never gives you a good day.”
Maurice nodded, the truth of it settling in. “And we’re in Virginia.”
He didn’t say the rest out loud: that Boston to Charlottesville was nearly six hundred miles. A full day’s drive. A flight that wasn’t long but still required planning, money, and time off. Real life. Not the bubble of a train car or the magic of a week-long trip.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
The weight of geography didn’t just settle between them—it sprawled out, stretching from Boston to Philly to Virginia, a map Maurice could suddenly feel in his bones. Miles of highways. Missed weekends. Time zones that didn’t change but somehow acted like they did.
Maurice stared at the floor, jaw tight. He wasn’t naïve. He knew distance had a way of wearing people down, even when the feelings were real. Especially when the feelings were genuine.
But he also knew the way Finn looked at him. The way Finn reached for his hand without thinking. The way Finn talked about wanting more.
“It’s a lot,” David said.
Maurice nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
But even with the miles stretching out in his mind, something stubborn settled in his chest, something sounding a lot like:I’m willing to try.
David rubbed his face. “I’m not giving up my career.”
“Me neither,” Maurice said. “I’ve worked too hard.”
“Same.”
Maurice rubbed his beard. “So, what do we do?”
David shrugged. “Spend the week with them in San Francisco. See if this is real. If it is… we ask them to move.”
A tight rush moved through him at the thought—Finn in Virginia. Finn in his house. Finn in his bed every night.
“It’s the only way it works,” David said.
Maurice nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
“And if it doesn’t work out,” David added, “we walk away before anyone gets hurt worse.”
Maurice swallowed. “I don’t want to walk away.”
“Me neither.”
They sat in silence for a moment, both men staring at the floor, both imagining futures they weren’t ready to say out loud.
David finally stood. “You really like him, huh?”
Maurice let out a breath. “Yeah. I do.”
