Page 25 of Outspoken Hearts
"No?"
"No, I don't accept that." I grip the phone tighter. "You don't get to tell me you're falling in love with me and then push me away in the same breath."
"I'm trying to be mature about this, James. Realistic."
"To hell with realistic. I'm falling in love with you too, Eva. And I'm not going to let distance or a job offer or anything else dictate what happens between us without a fight."
Her sharp intake of breath is audible through the phone. "You're falling in love with me?"
"Yes. And it terrifies me too. Because I've never felt like this about anyone." The admission feels like jumping off a cliff, exhilarating and terrifying all at once. "Which is why I'm exploring alternatives with Westcott. Ways to take the position without having to move permanently to Boston."
"You are?"
"I was literally drafting the email when you called." I pause, gathering courage for complete honesty. "Because what I want—what I really want—is both. The opportunity and you. Us. And I'm not willing to sacrifice either without exhausting every possible option."
Silence stretches between us, loaded with potential.
"I think," she says finally, her voice thick with emotion, "that we should be having this conversation in person."
Relief washes over me. "I agree. Where are you?"
"Actually, I'm outside your house."
I move to the window, pulling back the curtain to see her car parked at the curb. "You're here?"
"I've been sitting out here for twenty minutes, trying to work up the courage to knock." There's a small laugh in her voice now. "I had this whole speech prepared about how I was going to be supportive of your dreams even if it broke my heart."
"I'd rather you didn't break your heart. Or mine." I'm already moving toward the front door. "Come inside?"
"On my way."
I open the door just as she reaches the porch, our phones still pressed to our ears. For a moment, we just look at each other, the physical reality of her presence more powerful than any words we've exchanged.
"Hi," she says, finally lowering her phone.
"Hi." I step aside to let her in, closing the door behind her. "So, you're falling in love with me?"
A small smile tugs at her lips. "I thought that might catch your attention."
"It did." I take a step toward her, drawn by an invisible force. "Especially since I'm falling in love with you too."
"Even though I'm too much sometimes? Too intense, too passionate, too honest?"
"Because of those things." I reach for her hand, relief flooding through me when she doesn't pull away. "Your intensity, your passion, your honesty—they're not flaws, Eva. They're what make you extraordinary."
She squeezes my hand, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "And you're really looking for alternatives? Ways to take the job without leaving completely?"
"I am. I don't know if Westcott will be open to it, but I have to try." I lead her to the living room, where we sit close together on the couch. "I'm tired of either/or choices. I want to find the 'and'—a way to pursue my career ambitions and build a life with you."
"A life with me?" Her voice catches on the words.
"If that's what you want too." I reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my hand linger against her cheek. "I know we're moving fast. I know it's only been a few weeks. But I also know that what we have is rare. Special. Worth fighting for."
"It is," she agrees, leaning into my touch. "I've never felt so seen. So accepted, exactly as I am."
"Then let's not give up before we've even really begun. Let's explore all the options. Together."
She nods, a tear finally spilling over. "Together. I like the sound of that."
