Page 78 of Made Better Together

“The internship, this position—it’s not what I want as my career. It’s great for now, but I don’t want to make major decisions around it.”

“Okay.”

“I need a job, I know. I don’t want to leave the internship early, necessarily. I just—I don’t want it to screw up other things.”

She stays quiet.

“I’ve always hated feeling out of control, and I’ve been struggling with how to reconcile the real-world factors with how much I want…” I stop, trying to find the right words.

“Connor, I’m not a mind reader,” she says softly after a moment passes. “You need to share what you’re thinking.”

I try again. “It’s not logical, right? I mean you’re a future doctor; I’m a data junkie. We’re science-driven, facts-driven.”

“Yes, sure.”

“We barely know each other, so this doesn’t make a ton of sense. But it feels like…”

After another period of silence, she prods me again. “Like?”

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” I spit it out almost like one word.

“Oh…” She gasps.

Was that a good gasp or a bad one? “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but that’s the tru⁠—”

“I’m not uncomfortable, Connor.” She must see some of the concern on my face, because she reaches over and puts her hand on top of mine. “I’m not.”

I attempt to calm down, though my gut is still churning. “Good. Good.”

“But what does that mean? Given everything else in the mix.”

I don’t miss that she didn’t state my confession wasn’t reciprocated. My hopes rise, and I plunge forward.

“I…I don’t want this internship to cost me you. Cost us a chance at being together.” Squeezing the left side of my seat out of her view, I ask the scariest fucking question of my life. “Do you want that?”

“A chance to see what this is between us, finally?”

“Yes.”

A smile slowly rises on her face. “I do.”

My heart tugs hard at those two words. She does. She fucking does.

In an instant, the unease in my gut disappears.

I didn’t lose my shot with her. Thank fuck.

She giggles. Shit, I guess I said that out loud.

“Sorry, I…didn’t know what would happen tonight.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” she replies, still smiling. “Good thing we both feel the same.”

My relief is overwhelming. Before I let myself get happy, I need to answer her earlier question, about what this means with all the other dynamics in our lives.

I hadn’t thought that far myself, coming here. A quick calculation now comes up with a predictable answer. My default solution—secrecy.

Hopefully she’ll be alright with that, because nothing else is coming to mind.