Bennett — Age 24
I scrolled through the channels on the TV before shutting it off and walking the eight steps it took to get from our bed to our fridge.
There was nothing tempting inside. I wasn’t hungry anyway, just restless.
After a ten-hour shift, plus a forty-minute commute each way, it would be smart to go to bed, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep until Maven was home.
I checked my phone for the time—a quarter to eleven—when the wallpaper photo made me frown.
It was of Maven and me at the lake the summer before she started at Juilliard.
I stood behind her, my arms wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned into me.
Her smile was as bright as ever, and so was mine.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled like that.
Which was fine. Six more months and we’d be back in Autumn Ridge. I’d be able to breathe again. To feel like myself again.
The sound of the key sliding into the lock had me hurrying toward the door, and I threw it open before Maven had even turned the knob.
“Hey!” I instantly relaxed at the sight of her. I hated that she had to commute home on her own, but my work was often in the opposite direction, and she never knew when exactly she’d be done. That meant that, most nights, escorting her wasn’t an option.
“You’re still up? I thought you’d be asleep after the long day you had.” A yawn interrupted her tired smile, and she covered her mouth with a hand. “Sorry. I guess it was a long day for both of us.”
Because our neighbors’ musical tastes were lacking and our walls were way too thin, even after her private lessons and seminars and classes and orchestra rehearsal, Maven had to stay on campus to practice her violin.
I took her bag and violin case, placing them on the floor near the bar that separated our measly kitchen from the rest of the room. “You hungry?”
“I actually grabbed some food with Sarah and Mei a few hours ago. Did you get something to eat?”
“I had an omelet.”
Maven removed her coat and shoes before moving to the bed.
She held her arms out wide and fell back into it.
For such a small place, we hadn’t skimped on the bed.
Maven insisted we get a king so I could fit comfortably, especially since we also used it as a couch and often a table.
It was one of those mattresses that came condensed in a roll and expanded when opened.
We were probably never getting it out of here, but it had proven to be worth the investment.
The down blanket, though, was definitely coming with us when we moved.
“Can we just take the next few days off?” Maven’s eyes closed, and her limbs were heavy from exhaustion. “I feel like I’ve hardly seen you since our brief anniversary getaway two weekends ago.”
“Absolutely, we can.” I moved onto the bed next to her. “You call my boss to tell him, though.”
She laughed, or at least she attempted a laugh. “Guess what?” She rolled toward me, tucking a pillow beneath her head. “Mei was offered a postgraduate fellowship with the English Concert.”
It was almost imperceptible, but there was a slight hint of envy in her tone.
Not for her friend’s success, but because Maven had nothing lined up after graduation.
Our school district didn’t even start the interview process until February, and currently, Autumn Ridge High already had an orchestra teacher.
Which meant Maven would have to commute to a different school, if there was even an opening.
“Wow,” I said, my voice somewhat flat. I was too tired and my thoughts felt muddled.
It would probably be best to just go to sleep and find another time to talk.
Whenever that would be. But I couldn’t quiet my thoughts.
I rolled onto my back, my gaze on the asbestos-ridden popcorn ceiling.
“What would you be pursuing right now if we weren’t together? ”
Maven’s hand settled on my chest. “It doesn’t matter because we are. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Just humor me.” I glanced over at her. “What would you want to do if you had no one else to consider?” I shouldn’t have asked, especially with the casual tone I’d asked it in, but I had to know.
She drew in a slow breath. “Instead of pretending we didn’t end up together, can we just act like you love New York City and also traveling?”
I nodded, fearing I knew exactly where this was going.
“Well, if that were the case, I would love to go abroad. I don’t think I’d want to pursue a doctorate.
I have enough student loans from Juilliard.
But maybe I’d play with a smaller, international orchestra or try to get hired for recording a major film score.
We could spend our summers in different European cities, and I’d attend music festivals and learn from the masters.
” She gave a happy sigh, like she had no idea the effect her words were having on me.
“Then, when I’d gained enough experience, we’d come back to New York, and I’d audition for the New York Philharmonic.
We would live in the city, attend concerts, and take our babies on walks through Central Park. ”
It was as if a hundred-pound weight had settled onto my chest with how hard it was to pull in a breath. “Will we all live in a crappy studio apartment? Because I’m not sure how a guy without a college degree working construction is going to provide any of that for you.”
She lifted onto her elbow, a frown pulling her lips downward at the corners. “I’m not asking you to. It was hypothetical.”
“But all of that—that’s what you’d actually want.” I sat up, shifting to face her. “Not our life together in Vermont.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I’m not sure I do.”
Her mouth parted, her eyes filling with hurt. “Do you know how many opportunities I’ve passed up over the years so that we could be together?” Her voice rose slightly. “I get you’ve sacrificed a lot, Ben, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t made my own sacrifices for us.”
My brow lowered. I was genuinely confused. “What opportunities?”
Her gaze dropped, like she hadn’t wanted to tell me.
“Study abroad programs, international internships and competitions, out-of-state networking opportunities.” Maven gave a small shrug.
“That one summer I went to France, that was supposed to be an eight-week program, but I convinced them to let me do three weeks so I wouldn’t have to be gone the whole summer.
Not to mention all the other summers I spent waitressing in Autumn Ridge so I could be with you instead of in Cleveland, where I had job opportunities that would have paid much better and helped build my resume. ”
The triple thud of a broom handle against our downstairs neighbor’s ceiling silenced us momentarily.
Maven stood, releasing a slow breath. “Sorry, my hypothesized version of our life differs from yours, Ben.”
“It’s not that it differs. It’s how drastically it differs.”
Maven’s shoulders dropped. “I think right now I’m just struggling, watching so many of my friends get these amazing positions and prestigious opportunities, when I’m not even sure I can find a job as a high school orchestra teacher in our district.
But once we’re back in Autumn Ridge and I figure out what I’m doing, I’m sure it’ll be easier to be content. ”
Another round of thumps from our downstairs neighbor had Maven rolling her eyes.
“We’re clearly both tired. I’m going to get ready for bed.
” She walked to the bathroom with intentionally heavy steps.
If I wasn’t so distracted, I would have smiled at her small act of defiance for our broom-loving friend beneath us.
Maven would be content when we got back to Autumn Ridge. Not happy, but accepting of her circumstances. Circumstances she almost certainly wouldn’t choose for herself if it weren’t for me. Was I holding Maven back from everything she actually wanted?