Chapter 38
On Friday, Luke cut out of work a little early. We held hands in the grocery store before heading home to have wine on the deck. We cooked a real dinner for the first time that week: grilled salmon and salad and orzo dressed simply in olive oil and spices.
“You must be excited for Luna to get home tomorrow,” I said to him. Empty plates sat in front of us on the outside dining table. We nursed the last of our drinks, watching the sky turn pink.
“Yeah.” He looked from the sky back at me. “Don’t get me wrong”—he reached for my knee under the table—“I’ve been having an amazing time with you this week. But it’s kinda weird not having her here.”
“I agree.” I was excited for her to come home, too. The house felt a little empty. Not enough Broadway sing-alongs or How to Train Your Dragon on TV. I missed reading with her. “I hope she and your mom didn’t get too far ahead of me in the Magic Tree House books.”
Luke laughed like I’d told an intentional joke. His laugh was infectious, so I giggled too, even though I was being serious to begin with.
We did the dishes together before he took my hand and led me upstairs. We were up even later than usual that night, taking our time, trying new positions, laughing when they didn’t work, repeating them when they did.
I completely forgot about my conversation with Max’s dad last night, and the email I sent after I got home.
My memory loss was short-lived, however.
I woke up to bright sunlight streaming into Luke’s bedroom through the cracks in the blinds. I loved how bright the morning light was here, like even the sun was excited for the day to begin.
To my right, Luke was sleeping soundly, his chiseled, tanned back rising and falling with each breath. His head was turned on its side, one hand under his pillow, the other extended toward me. I studied the long black eyelashes resting on his cheeks. So gorgeous, this man.
I didn’t want to wake him yet; he had a long day of driving ahead of him. So I rolled over as quietly as I could and distracted myself on my phone, scrolling social media before opening my email. Tucked in between advertisements and my credit card statement was a response from the recruiter.
Val, So glad you reconsidered. They can meet with you in Boston at 1 p.m. on Tuesday. They want to move fast and said the signing bonus will be generous. Let me know if that works for you, and I’ll send over the details.
Oh my god. My stomach plummeted, and not with excitement. As if he sensed the trepidation radiating off me, Luke stirred.
He opened one eye first, saw I was awake, and propped himself up on the pillows. “Hey,” he muttered sleepily.
“Hey.” I slid down a bit and ran my fingers through his hair.
“Mmm, I love it when you do that.”
A laugh escaped my throat. “I know.”
I looked back at my phone, chewing my lip as I reread the email. Did I want to meet with them on Tuesday? I supposed one interview couldn’t hurt. I didn’t need to take the job, even if I got it. I sighed more loudly than I intended.
“Whatcha looking at?” His eyes were open now, assessing me.
“Oh, um. Just an email from a recruiter. There’s this firm that’s opening an office in Boston and they need lawyers with my background. I, uh, got an interview.”
Luke sat up, brows furrowed, not saying anything for long enough that it made me nervous.
Compelled to fill the silence, I said, “The summer is ending, and I don’t feel right having you pay me to spend time with Luna now that we’re…doing this.” I gestured between us. “I have enough savings to last a while but…” I shrugged.
“Val, I don’t want you to go back to a job you didn’t like because you don’t want me to keep paying you to watch Luna. I’ll keep doing it; I can afford it.”
“No, Luke. It’s weird. It feels wrong. Please.”
“Okay, well, let me pay for other expenses you have. So you can take your time and keep writing. That’s a totally normal thing for a boyfriend to do… I’m your boyfriend, right?” The question was earnest.
I smiled. We’d said I love you but had skipped the boyfriend/girlfriend conversation. “Yes. I mean, that’s what I want. That’s how I feel.”
“Okay, good. So that’s established.” His dark brows were still furrowed.
“But I don’t want you to pay for my expenses. I have all this education and work experience. I can’t just…not contribute.”
He looked at me for a long time, like he didn’t know what to say. He sat all the way up, turned to face me, and took my hand, a tortured look on his face. He’s upset. It hit me like a blow to the chest. I didn’t think a simple interview would spiral like this.
“But Val. I’ve watched you work through this the entire summer. I’ve seen the change in you. You’re happy. I can tell. Why would you go back to something that made you miserable?”
I swallowed, emotion caught in my throat.
Hurt because he was upset. Worry that he was right—that even entertaining returning to a law firm was a mistake.
And perhaps most powerfully, the deafening self-doubt and insecurity I felt deep down, drowning everything else out.
I closed my eyes and told him the truth.
“Because I worked my entire life for this. And when people look at me—the education and experience I have—and find out I’m an unemployed, aspiring author, they look down on me. ”
“Who? What people?” Indignation laced his tone with acid.
“I don’t know, everyone!”
Me.
I flung the sheet off my lap and got out of bed, needing to pace.
I loved how he saw me to my core, understood me in a way that was sort of remarkable given how long we’d known each other, sometimes even better than I understood myself.
But right now, as his concerned gaze bore into me, I was overcome with the feeling that he saw too much.
“They don’t matter,” he said. “They don’t know you. And they don’t know the key to life either, despite what they might think. No one does.”
I stopped and looked at Luke. His chest was heaving, his legs tangled in the sheets, barely awake but fuming.
“It’s just an interview,” I said quietly.
To him, to myself. He climbed out of bed and stood in front of me—him in his boxers, me in my silky PJ set.
He pushed my hair behind my ears and lifted my chin to look at him.
The look of hurt on his face cracked my heart wide open. I lowered my gaze.
“Is it too much? Are we moving too fast?” he asked.
“No! This has nothing to do with us. This is about me. I promise.” I gripped the wrist of the hand that was still holding my cheek and turned my face to kiss his palm. “I just… I don’t know how to let go of my entire career. It was my whole world before this summer.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I nodded cautiously.
“What would you want Luna to do? Twenty-plus years from now, if she was in the exact same position?”
I’d tell her to stay here and be happy. The answer came from my gut. My soul.
“You’re not fighting fair,” I whispered, eyes filling.
“When it comes to you two, my girls, I will never fight fair.”
I choked on a sob, and he pulled me into his strong, warm arms. He kissed my hair. “Hey, no crying. You’re right. It’s just an interview. See how it goes, see how you feel, and we’ll talk about it, okay?” His fingers stroked my hair, holding me tight until I got my emotions under control.
“When is it?” he asked when I lifted my head off his chest.
“Tuesday.”
He nodded, somber. His eyes were glassy. My strong man. I hated myself for making him cry. At the same time, I didn’t fully understand it. It was just an interview. I probably wouldn’t even take the job. But I felt compelled to add, “Boston isn’t that far. It’s easy to get back and forth.”
“That’s true,” he said, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His lips pressed to my forehead. “I’m going to take a shower.”
I nodded, words eluding me.
He didn’t fully close the bathroom door, and the intimacy of it struck me.
I sat on the corner of his bed, head in my hands. It’s just an interview, I repeated to myself. Why did it feel like more than that all of a sudden?
I got dressed slowly, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom. He stayed in there long enough that mist wafted through the crack in the door. I watched the spirals of steam rise, tranced.
Where did that confidence I found to live on my own terms this summer go?
Luke and Luna got home late that night. Since we hadn’t told Luna we were together yet, I didn’t go over to the house. It hurt to not be with them when they were only a mile away. Tomorrow, I said to myself. Surely we’d tell her tomorrow and then start figuring out what our new normal would be.
The next day, Luke told me they were running errands in the morning, buying back-to-school supplies. I went over to hang out with them in the afternoon.
“Hey, Luna!”
She ran over and hugged me.
“You don’t usually come on Sundays,” Luna said. Nothing got past her.
“I know.” I glanced up at Luke. Should we tell her now? But he didn’t say anything, so I said, “I missed you and wanted to come hang out, if that’s okay with you?”
“Obviously,” she waved her hand in front of her and returned to the living room.
“What do you want to do today? Do you have any summer bucket list things you didn’t get to do yet?” I asked her.
“What’s a bucket list?”
“It’s a list of things you want to do before a certain time, in this case, before school starts.”
“Hmmm.” Luna pursed her lips, concentrating hard.
“We were thinking the beach, but it’s not that nice out,” Luke added. He felt far away, sitting on the opposite couch. Every other time I’d been here in the last week, some part of our bodies was touching, or at least within reach.
Pulled by a magnet, I crossed the room and sat down next to him. I checked the weather radar on my phone. It was a little misty and chilly, but no rain was expected.
“What about a bike ride? We could take the bike path along the beach to Oak Bluffs. Maybe get a ride in on the Flying Horses Carousel?”