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Maybe, without even realizing it, I came here looking for exactly this.
“Right,” I say, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Well, I met a woman.”
Carla breaks into a smile. “Of course you did.”
“She’s…she’s incredible. Smart, gorgeous, driven, kind.”
“But?” Carla asks, knowing there has to be a catch.
“Her life is here in the city. She wants to open a gallery here someday. She’s been up to my place in the mountains, but she says she can’t pick up her life and go back with me.”
Carla gives me a scolding look. “Do you blame her, Alden? Moving that far away would force her to give up too much that’s important to her.”
“I get that. But—” I blow out a hard breath. “I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Mmm. I see.” Carla pours our tea, then pushes one of the cups into my hands. “And you picking up your life and moving here is out of the question, I suppose?”
“I’m not doing that,” I mutter.
Carla laughs. “But it’s exactly what you’re asking her to do.”
“I’m not doing it,” I repeat. “If I move here, I’ll be cutting off the very thing that feeds my work. It’s out of the question.”
“I understand.”
“My work…look, I know it’s just slapping paint on a canvas. But it’s more than that. It keeps me alive.”
“Trust me, Alden. I understand.” Carla reaches out and places a sympathetic hand on my knee. “Relationships can be a beautiful thing. A powerful thing. But at the end of the day, you have to be true to yourself. If you give up who you are at your core, it’s not just you who will suffer for it. It radiates out to the people you love, too.”
I look down at the cup of tea wrapped in my hands. There are a few tea leaves settled at the bottom of the cup, unmoving and unhelpful.
“Right,” I say.
“You said you don’t know what to do, Alden, but I think you’re wrong,” Carla says gently. “I think you know exactly what you need to do.”
9
SASHA
“Thanks again for breakfast,” I say, wrapping my arms around Alden and laying a kiss on his scruffy cheek. “You’re really spoiling me, you know that?”
Alden smiles at me from where he’s sitting on one of my kitchen stools, still picking away at his own breakfast. There’s something about his smile that heightens the nerves I’m already feeling. It’s like he’s not fully here anymore. He’s been acting like this since I got home from work yesterday evening.
My stomach has been in knots, afraid that he’s not going to be here when I get home tonight.
“I won’t be back until late,” I remind him, distractedly gathering my things.
“Yep, I know,” Alden says.
I slip on my shoes, trying to swallow back my worry. When Alden comes over to see me off for the day, I look up at him with a somersaulting heart.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come to the show tonight?” I ask, trying my best to give him a flirtatious smile.
“I’m sure.” He gives me another one of those disconcerting smiles, then cups my chin in one of his big hands and lowers his lips to mine. The way his lips linger longer than usual on mine makes me want to burst into tears.
I can’t even fathom the possibility that this might be the last kiss Alden ever gives me.
Everything in me wants to blow off work and stay here in my apartment. If Alden is going to leave, I want to at least spend our last day together. I want to stay in his arms for as long as he’ll let me, because the moment he leaves, my life is never going to be the same. And I want to say a proper goodbye, damn it—it’s going to hurt like hell, but I’d rather dissolve into a complete mess in front of him than come home tonight to an empty apartment and a note with my name on it.
