“Oh.” She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, clearly unsure what to do with her hands. “Well, that’s...unexpected.”
“Kate—”
“No, it’s fine,” she said quickly. “I mean, it’s not fine, but it’s sports, right? This is how it works.” She moved toward the refrigerator, pulling it open and staring inside without seeming to see anything. “We should probably get more information before freaking out. How certain is your agent? What’s the statistical probability based on his past predictions? Do you have historical data on mid-season trades we could analyze?”
Her systematic approach to emotional chaos would’ve made me smile under different circumstances.
“This isn’t a research project, Kate,” I said gently.
She closed the refrigerator door without taking anything out. “I know that. I’m just trying to approach this logically.”
“Are we worth it?” The question escaped before I could stop it. “If this happens—if I move across the country—would you want to try making this work?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “That’s what you’re worried about? Whether I’d want to continue this if you moved?”
“Partly,” I admitted. “Long-distance is complicated. Your life is here—your fellowship, your research. I wouldn’t blame you if?—”
“If I decided you weren’t worth the complication?” She shook her head firmly. “That’s not how I operate, Austin. When I find something valuable, I don’t just discard it because the circumstances change.”
Relief flooded through me, but I noticed something else—a slight tightness around her mouth, a carefully maintained distance between us. Kate was saying all the right things, but her body language told a different story.
“What are you not saying?” I pressed.
She sighed, running a hand through her already disheveled hair. “I’m just processing. This is a lot to take in, especially when we’re still figuring out...whatever this is between us.” She gestured vaguely at the space between our bodies.
“And what is this between us?” I asked, stepping closer.
“I don’t know.” Her voice softened. “Something important. Something I’m not ready to lose.”
I reached for her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Me neither.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We wait,” I said, squeezing her fingers. “Nothing’s certain yet. And we talk—figure out what we want, what’s possible.”
Kate nodded slowly. “Okay. Waiting and talking. I can do that.” She managed a small smile. “And maybe ordering takeout, since I’ve officially proven I can’t cook.”
“Takeout sounds perfect.” I pulled her against me, needing to feel her warmth, to anchor myself against the uncertainty swirling around us.
We sat on opposite ends of the couch, takeout containers spread across the coffee table between us. Kate hadn’t eaten much, just pushing her food around with chopsticks, lost in thought.
“You know,” she said, breaking the silence, “Seattle has some impressive research facilities. University of Washington, Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center...”
I lowered my container. “You’re researching Seattle institutions already?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not meeting my eyes. “Just some preliminary investigation. I figured it couldn’t hurt to know what’s out there.”
“Kate—”
“It’s just information gathering,” she said quickly. “Not planning, just...exploring possibilities.”
The implication behind her words caught me off guard. Was she actually considering the idea of following me if I got traded? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
“Your fellowship is here,” I reminded her gently. “Everything you’ve worked for?—”
“I’m aware,” she interrupted, setting down her chopsticks. “I’m not saying I’d move immediately. I’m just saying options exist. Good science happens everywhere, Austin.”
I moved across the couch, eliminating the distance between us. “I would never ask you to abandon your career.”
