Chapter Nine #3
Thank you for considering me for the Halston account. Before I confirm, I need to discuss my current role and the possibility of a remote or West Coast arrangement.
She stopped.
The message did not mention Aaron. That mattered.
She was not changing her life for a man she had known for one week.
She was allowing one unexpected week to reveal what had been wrong long before she met him.
She continued.
Over the past several weeks, I have realized I am ready to reconsider what I want from my position and where I want to build the next stage of my career.
I value the work I have done with the company, but I am no longer prepared to accept additional responsibility solely because I am capable of carrying it. I would like to discuss whether my position can evolve in a way that supports both the company’s needs and the direction I want for my life.
Her fingers rested above the keyboard.
The message was not a resignation. Not a promise to remain in California. And not a decision made to secure a future with Aaron.
It was the first time she had asked her career to accommodate her instead of proving she could accommodate everything it demanded.
Meagan pressed send.
No one applauded.
No music rose.
The kitchen remained quiet.
For the first time, uncertainty did not feel like failure.
It felt like space.
Her phone rested beside the laptop.
Aaron’s conversation waited near the top.
No new messages had appeared.
He was doing exactly what she had asked.
Making leaving easier.
Meagan opened their exchange.
Meagan: I emailed my supervisor.
Aaron did not answer immediately.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Aaron: Are you going back?
Meagan looked around Hailey’s kitchen.
At the fruit bowl.
At the rules.
At the coffee cup Aaron had ordered that morning.
Meagan: I don’t know yet.
Aaron: Okay.
Meagan closed her eyes.
Meagan: You make that word frustrating.
Aaron: I know.
Despite herself, she smiled.
Meagan: I asked about working remotely or creating a West Coast role.
The three dots appeared immediately.
Aaron: Is that what you want?
Not are you staying?
Not does this mean you chose me?
Is that what you want?
Her chest tightened.
Meagan: I want the choice.
Aaron: Then I’m proud of you.
He understood. She had chosen herself.
Not New York.
Not California.
Not even Aaron.
She had chosen the right to ask for more than whatever people were grateful to give her.
Her phone buzzed again.
Aaron: For the record, I would also be very happy if the choice kept you here.
A laugh slipped out.
Meagan: Your honesty remains inconvenient.
Aaron: Occupational hazard.
She pressed her fingers against her mouth.
The beach kiss returned.
Not the pressure of it.
The permission.
The way he had asked what she wanted and trusted the answer.
Meagan looked down at the rules.
The arrangement had ended.
Aaron was no longer her fake date.
She did not want him to be. She did not want an excuse to hold his hand.
Or a former boyfriend to justify kissing him.
Or a gala to provide a temporary reason to stand beside him.
She wanted mornings. Coffee. Volleyball. His sisters.
A properly labeled storage system in his SUV.
She wanted to call him when nothing needed fixing.
She wanted to discover who she was beside someone who did not require her to remain predictable.
Meagan’s pulse quickened.
Meagan: Are you still at the foundation office?
Aaron: Yes.
She stood.
Gathered her purse, keys, and the page containing the six rules.
Her phone buzzed.
Aaron: Do you need something?
For once, the answer had nothing to do with a task.
Nothing needed organizing.
No one required rescuing.
The gala was over.
The pretending had ended.
Meagan wanted him anyway.
Meagan: Yes.
Aaron: What?
She opened the front door.
Sunlight spilled across the porch.
Meagan: I need to tell you I made another mistake.
Aaron: Which one?
She reached her rental car and opened the door.
Meagan: I told you the arrangement had served its purpose.
She waited.
Aaron: It did.
Meagan smiled.
Meagan: That is the problem.
Aaron: I don’t understand.
She started the car.
Meagan: I don’t want the arrangement back.
Before he could answer, she placed the phone facedown on the passenger seat and pulled away from the curb.
The next part should not happen in a text message.
She wanted to see his face.
Wanted him to hear the words without a gala, an audience, or a reason to doubt them.
Meagan did not know whether she was staying in California.
She did not know what her supervisor would say.
She did not know how a relationship with Aaron would fit across distance, careers, and two lives that had not expected to meet.
For once, she did not need every answer before choosing the next step.
She knew what she wanted.
Not the fake relationship.
Not the temporary version.
Not a man who stood beside her because the evening required it.
She wanted Aaron.
Real. Complicated. Unplanned.
Meagan turned toward the foundation office.
Toward the beach.
Toward the man who had never needed her to be useful before he wanted her.
The future remained uncertain.
But for the first time, Meagan was not driving away from uncertainty.
She was driving directly toward it.