47. The shift in the air
THE SHIFT IN THE AIR
B rian’s words kept replaying in her head. It doesn’t add up.
Spring stared down at her plate as they sat in a restaurant, trying to piece together why the thought refused to leave her alone. She was silent most of dinner while Preston and Rae talked about the documentary. Halfway through dinner, Preston leaned over, rubbing slow circles into her lower back.
“You’re doing that thing again,” he murmured.
She didn’t look up from her plate. “What thing?”
“That Sherlock homegirl thing,” he said. “Eyes narrowed. Brain spinning. You already ten steps ahead, and nobody else even started the race.”
Rae snorted. “Oh, he got you, girl.”
Spring finally looked at him. “Excuse me for noticing patterns.”
“I don’t mind patterns, love,” Preston said. “I know how you get when you’re in Noir mode. Less Spring, more April Ryan meets Annalise Keating.”
Rae lit up. “Oh, she do be acting like Viola, huh?”
Spring smirked. “I’ll take that.”
The mood between them all was easy. Loud enough to feel alive, quiet enough to still be theirs. She was ready to join the conversation again and take her mind off it, when someone recognized him.
It started with a whisper.
Then a phone lifted.
Then another.
Rae clocked it immediately. “Heads up.”
A small cluster formed near the entrance. Curious, respectful, but growing.
Preston exhaled, already standing. “It’s cool.”
He stepped into the persona naturally, signing autographs, shaking hands. Smiling like he knew how to do this, even if it cost him something every time.
Rae pulled the camera up, catching the majority of it. Spring watched from her seat, fond and a little overwhelmed by how quickly the world kept finding him.
More people drift over, then more.
The space tightened.
Spring’s stomach turned.
At first, she thought it was nerves, or hunger.
Then it hit her all at once. She barely had time to push her chair back. “Oh?—”
She immediately threw up over their meals.
The reaction was immediate. People stepped back fast, murmurs rippling. Phones lowered, the crowd parting like water.
Preston turned instantly, panic flashing across his face. “Spring?—”
“I’m okay,” she said breathlessly, wiping her mouth, more embarrassed than anything.
Rae was already moving, one arm around her, the other ushering space. “We’re good. Thank you.”
Preston wrapped an arm around Spring, guiding her out as Rae trailed them, camera down now as they headed to the car.
Outside, the air hit her lungs like relief.
Preston pressed his forehead to hers. “Hey. Talk to me.”
Spring closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. “I don’t know. I was thinking about Cameron, then all those people just showed up and… it just… came out of nowhere.”
Rae studied her quietly. “Well,” Rae said carefully, “you cleared the room.”
Spring gave a weak laugh. “Sorry to ruin dinner.”
Preston shook his head. “Nothing was ruined. You come first. Always.” He pulled her closer, shielding her from the residual stares.
When they arrived at her Airbnb, Preston went to the kitchen to get her some water while she settled on the couch.
Taking advantage of their moment alone, Rae dropped her bag by the door and looked at Spring like she was doing a medical intake. “Okay, girl, I’ve seen you interview foreign dictators in war zones,” Rae said. “CEOs lying through veneers. You don’t just lose your lunch.”
Spring waved her off, kicking her shoes aside. “I’m fine. It was just too much food. Too many people.”
Rae folded her arms. “Y’all also been doing a lot of hunching.”
Spring choked out a breath. “Rae!”
“I’m just saying,” Rae continued, unfazed. “To be safe, take a pregnancy test.”
Spring laughed, loud and dismissive. “Absolutely not.”
Rae shrugged. “Okay. Just planting seeds. Kinda like the one you might be carrying.”
Spring’s phone rang before she could say anything else. Thankful for the interruption, she answered, pacing toward the window. “Hello?”
Her posture shifted almost immediately.
Preston watched it happen from the kitchen entry – the way her shoulders went still, her face tightening into professional focus.
“Yes… yes, I saw the numbers… I understand.”
Rae stopped pretending not to listen.
Spring leaned against the wall. “That’s… that’s significant. And a huge honor.” There was a pause while the person on the other end of the line continued. “Let me think about it,” she said carefully. “But thank you.”
She hung up.
For a second, she just stood there, phone still in her hand.
Rae broke the silence first. “That was the board?”
Spring nodded slowly. “The documentary clips are testing through the roof. Higher than projected.”
Preston nodded. “Okay. That’s a good thing right.”
“They’re already offering me another assignment,” she said.
Rae’s eyes widened. “Already?”
Spring exhaled. “Yeah.”
“Do you know what it is?” Preston asked, even though something in him already knew it wouldn’t be small.
She hesitated. “It’s… big. The kind of thing you don’t say no to.”
“I mean, not to be cocky, but what’s bigger than a Preston Cole comeback?” he joked.
She looked to him then. “They want me to document the journey of the First Family… the Black First Family,” she says quietly.
The room went still. No one rushed to fill the silence.
Preston nodded once, slow. “You mean Barry and Michelle… That’s… huge.”
“It is,” she said. “It’s career-defining.”
Rae shifted uncomfortably. “I’m gonna—” She gestured vaguely, “give y’all a minute.”
She disappeared down the hall.
Spring and Preston were left standing there, the city humming outside, the life they’d just stepped into pressing in on all sides.
Neither of them said it. They didn’t have to.
This was what it was like when momentum pulled in opposite directions. When love arrived at the exact same time as everything else you’d worked for.
Preston stepped closer, resting his forehead against hers. “We knew this wouldn’t be simple,” he said softly.
Spring nodded, eyes closed. “No.” But she didn’t pull away. And neither did he.
They stood there like that, acknowledging the truth together: this life was bigger than either of them.
And it was already asking a price.