“Casual.” My voice is monotone, my brain slow to register his words.
“But even so, this past week not seeing you… I didn’t like it.” He does that awkward laugh again. “What I mean is I like you, and what we started, and I don’t want that to end.” He lifts my hand, kissing the back of it. “Let’s just continue to have fun without a timeline.”
“Fun.” My heart is still pounding, now in rhythm to the headache brewing at my temples. “Until when?”
He shrugs like the theoretical end of us isn’t a big deal. Like our parting is inevitable somewhere down the line. Like it won’t hurt him to leave. “I mean, it’s not like either one of us is looking to settle down, right?”
I feel like he’s testing me. But I can’t get a grasp on the onslaught of emotions rushing through my chest to figure out what he’s testing me on.
Sarah, one of the baristas, walks up to the table. “Here you go, Rose.” She puts the butterfly lemonade that I’d forgotten I’d ordered down between us, giving me an excuse to lean back and retract my hand from Vance’s.
“Thanks.” I can’t meet anyone’s eyes. Instead, I follow the stream of condensation running slowly down the made-from-one-hundred-percent-recyclable-materials cup.
“Anything I can get you?” Sarah asks Vance.
“Ah, no.” His eyes don’t leave me. “I’m good.”
There’s a pause, and Sarah must pick up on the awkwardness between Vance and me. “Uh, okay. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She backs up a step then fast-walks herself over to the counter.
I really want to follow her.
“Rose.” He tries reaching for my hand again, but I move it to my lap. “I thought you’d be happy about this.” He sounds confused.
My nostrils flare with a big inhalation as I try to manage all the hope dying in my heart. “So you just want to change the timeline of our arrangement. You don’t want anything…more?” I try to firm up my voice, but I sound weak even to myself.
“Why would we?” The surprise in his voice stabs at me. “I mean, I know we might’ve crossed the line a few times, but you and I, we’re both not looking for more.” His eyes try to probe mine.
I glance away.
“You’re a Business Fellow and a West.” He says this like it’s the explanation I need, the answer to all my problems. His tone implies all the things I hate about being both a West and a Business Fellow. The expectations. The pressure. The assumptions. The things I know now don’t matter.
Things that I didn’t think mattered to him and our relationship.
“And I should mention that during this past week I also did some thinking about the pregnancy comment.”
My heart flutters. A wisp of hope rising from the ashes?
“It got me thinking.”
“About?” My voice cracks.
“How that would be such a worst-case scenario. For you and for me.”
“Really.” I reach out with shaking hands to grab my lemonade.
He nods, not noticing my distress. “I would hate myself if I did that to you.” For the first time since he sat down, Vance’s gaze leaves me, focusing on the ficus to my left.
He almost looks angry. But at me or at himself, I’m not sure.
“I never want kids. It’s something I decided when I was accepted into the astronaut program.”
“Never?” I can barely get the word out. I take a sip of my drink; the sweet liquid cools my throat but sits heavy in my stomach.
“Never.” He takes advantage of my shock and grabs my hand again. “But that’s what makes us an even better match, don’t you think?” He squeezes, probably to reassure me, but it only feels like a vise. “You’re too young to worry about all this stuff.”
The nausea churning in my gut has nothing to do with morning sickness.
Misinterpreting my silence, just as he’s misinterpreted a lot of things, Vance frowns. “And just to make sure this doesn’t become a worry again I’ve seen my doctor.”
