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“So does that mean you’re taking the job?” I ask.
He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugs. “I’m not sure.”
I take in the shy look in his eyes. Something about the way he’s looking at me bothers me. Almost like he’s gauging my reaction before deciding what he even wants to do.
But I’m not going to tell him what he should do. This is his decision. If he wants to ask me how I feel about it, he can and I’ll tell him. But he’s standing there and looking at me expectantly, making a half-hearted statement and acting ambivalent about it. It almost feels like he wants me to decide for him. But I refuse to do that.
For a long moment, we’re quiet. The silence between us is thick and tense. It’s never been this awkward between us, ever. I hate it.
“It’s a good opportunity,” he finally says. He scrubs a hand over his face. He blinks and I notice how heavy his eyelids are. He looks exhausted.
He goes quiet again and I wait for him to say more. But he doesn’t.
“I mean, it definitely sounds like a good opportunity,” I say.
“People would take me seriously in a job like that, cooking at a high-end restaurant.”
He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say something.
“Yeah, I’m sure they would. If that’s what you want.”
He frowns slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean that people already take you seriously, Tyler. Have you seen your Instagram lately? You’ve already got tons of people who admire you and your cooking skills. And tons of brands who respect you and want to work with you. You don’t need to change anything about yourself.”
“I’m not trying to change myself,” he says, his tone bordering on defensive. “I just feel like this could do a lot for my career, to work at this kind of restaurant.”
I make an exasperated noise. “Then you should do whatever you want to do. If you want the job, take it. If you don’t, then don’t,” I say, unable to hide the sharpness in my tone.
He shoots out a breath and lets out a frustrated laugh. He falls onto the arm of my couch. “That’s just it, Tori. I have no idea what I want to do.”
A stinging sensation hits me. Is this really that difficult of a decision to make? Is he really this torn up about choosing between me—between us and a job he didn’t even want until his dad offered it to him?
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do here, Tyler. I’m not going to make this decision for you.”
His frown deepens, like he’s annoyed with me. “I’m not asking you to do that.”
I cross my arms. “It kind of feels like you are. You come here acting all dazed and confused. You’re not making any definitive statements about anything. You’re just talking through your dad’s job offer.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “That’s because I don’t know what else to do right now, Tori.” His tone is strained. “My dad blindsided me with this job offer, which is an amazing opportunity, but I know that if I take it, I’ll have to move away from you, and I don’t want to do that.”
I soften at what he’s said, at how pained he sounds admitting that to me.
I step over to him and move to stand between his legs. I cup his face in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know this must be a hard decision for you to make. I just…I hate the thought of you moving away too. I don’t want that. But I don’t want you to give up on this job if it’s something you truly want. I don’t want to stand in the way of you and your career.”
“My dad isn’t someone who drops opportunities like this often,” he says. “Part of me feels like I have to take it. Like I should take it.”
My heart sinks. “Of course,” I say quietly.
My hands fall from his face and I move away from him, but before I can get more than two steps from him, he grabs my hand.
“We can do long-distance,” he says.
I shake my head. “I don’t do long-distance relationships, Tyler.”
“I know that in the past you had a bad experience,” he says. “But can you at least try? For us?”
“Tyler, the last time I did a long-distance relationship, I got screwed over in the worst way.”
