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We were quiet as we opened containers and dished up the fragrant meal. Matthew wasn’t kidding when he said he was starving. Noodles, chicken with almonds and veggies, ginger beef, and spicy shrimp disappeared quickly. Fried rice heaped with Tai Dop Voy was devoured. The spring rolls vanished. He ate like a man possessed, consuming everything he put on his plate. I forced myself to eat, not wanting to upset him before I had to. He was full of stories of the hospital, the card game they got into one night during an odd lull in patients.

“I took them for twenty bucks,” he said around a mouthful of shrimp.

“Poker?”

He shook his head with a grin. “Kinda like Fish. With new rules.” He winked. “Which I kept changing.”

I laughed, not surprised. He did love pranks.

He paused eating, looking at me. “Are you okay, Maddy? You look pale.”

I waved my fork. “Busy day.”

He frowned but let it go. We finished eating, and I packed up the small amount of food left. “Dinner for you tomorrow.”

He snorted. “Snack later tonight.”

I put the dirty dishes in the sink, planning on washing them later, and brought out a plate of cookies I had stashed from the bakery earlier. “I don’t know why, but I always want sweet after eating Chinese,” I said, setting down the treats.

Matthew sat down, reaching for a cookie. He knocked off the printed email I had forgotten I had left on the small coffee table and reached for it before I could. He scanned the opening lines and looked at me, confused. “Maddy?”

I drew in a deep breath and shut my eyes. “We need to talk.”

Matthew

I knew something was up when I got to Maddy’s. Her eyes were overly bright and her smile forced. I saw the look that passed between her and Sue when I arrived, and I was immediately worried.

Maddy was warm and responsive when I kissed her hello, so I dismissed the fleeting thought she was going to break up with me. But something was wrong. She didn’t eat much, and Chinese was her favorite. She was quieter than usual, and although she laughed at my stories and smiled at all the right moments, her mind was elsewhere.

I didn’t want to force her to tell me what was going on, and once we sat on the sofa and I knocked off the piece of printed paper and saw the first few lines, I knew it was big.

I turned to her, holding the paper. “Maddy?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and low, the way I did when speaking to a patient.

She shut her eyes in defeat, her shoulders dropping. “We need to talk.”

I reached for her hand, needing the connection. “Then talk. I’m listening.”

“Read the whole letter,” she requested. “It would explain a lot.”

I quickly read it, my stomach knotting as I realized the implications of the email.

I looked up, meeting her eyes. Hers were clouded, worried.

I cleared my throat. “This is a great opportunity.”

“I know.”

“You should be very proud of yourself to have made this list. Been offered this chance.” I paused and swallowed as I folded the letter and handed it back to her. “One you have to take.”

“It will be intense. Two years of work into one.”

“Yeah, it will be. You’ll work harder than you ever have.” I squeezed her fingers. “And you’ll rock it.”

“I’d have to move.”

I blew out a long breath. “I know. I hate that part.”

“Me too.”