Her smile grew as she held up a folded letter. “I got accepted!”
I stepped around Alex and went to her immediately. Her joy washed over me. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight and she didn’t even seem to mind that I was sweaty and smelled like a horse.
I kissed her hair. “That was quick! They must have really wanted you. No surprise. Congratulations!”
She pulled me tightly to her, grabbing on to me like a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered into my ear.
I kissed her cheek. “I knew you’d get in. UCI’s a great school.”
Emilia tensed in my arms and the two girls—thankfully—quieted. I was getting tired of Alex’s high-pitched squeaks. I turned my head to look at them and Alex and Jenna exchanged a long look. Emilia had her head tucked down, under my chin. She hadn’t relaxed.
Jenna reached out and grabbed Alex by the upper arm. “Let’s go down to the beach and watch the sunset.”
Alex nodded and turned immediately. They were out the door in less than a minute and I gazed after them, puzzled. Taking a deep breath, I stepped back and watched Emilia closely. She avoided my gaze.
“So it isn’t UCI—yet. I was sure other schools would want you, too,” I said quietly.
Emilia’s jaw tensed and she placed the letter down on the table beside me so that I could read the letterhead. The Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine.
When she spoke, it was in a voice so quiet I could barely hear her. “It’s not just any other school. It’s my dream school.”
I didn’t take my eyes off the letter. Under the letterhead stating the name of the university was its location: Baltimore, Maryland. Fucking Maryland.
She watched me carefully. I could feel her eyes on me, like a physical touch. So I kept my face completely neutral. My heart thundered at the base of my throat with a strength I hadn’t felt in a while. That familiar feeling of adrenaline releasing into my blood.
“Your dream school? You didn’t tell me you had a dream school…”
She frowned. “I applied so long ago. Before I failed the first time at the MCAT. I’d interviewed with them months before I ever—before we ever—”
“That’s awesome. I’m sure it’s a great feeling.”
I put my hand on the counter and leaned against my arm. She looked away, appeared to be watching my hand, which, unfortunately, was white-knuckling the edge of the table. I forced myself to relax.
She rubbed the inside of her wrist with her thumb and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “The doctor I did my research under as an undergrad is a respected alum of Hopkins. He works out of St. Joseph Hospital. He encouraged me to apply with his recommendation.” She squared her shoulders. “It’s in the top five of all medical schools in the US and the number one school for oncology.”
I nodded. My mouth was dry. Yeah this was fear. Icy fear. I had to think quickly. “So are you gonna go?”
She was avoiding my gaze again. I tried to figure out how to attack this. If I was too vehement, she would get her back up and dig her heels in the way she always did when she felt like I was railroading her. She sighed. “I don’t know.”
There it was. I don’t know. She might as well have said, “Hell, yes.”
“That’s four years. Longer if you do your residency there, which it sounds like you want to do.”
Her brow puckered. She was probably thrown off by the blandness in my voice. What she didn’t know was that on the inside I was reining in a massive need to reach out and crush this threat, control this situation. The desire was like a wild beast pulling against its tethers, willing to thrash itself to death in the process. I’d take care of this threat later, after I had time to think, strategize, with a cool head. For now, she needed to not feel threatened by me.
I nodded. “I understand.”
She finally glanced up into my face, her big brown eyes scouring my every feature. “You do?”
“It’s your dream, Emilia. I just hope it’s not your only dream.”
Her mouth slacked open and she worked her jaw for a moment as if trying to figure out what to say. Perhaps she didn’t understand my meaning. I wanted to be part of her dream, too.
She surprised me by reaching out to take my hand, closing her smaller one around it. “Of course not.”
“Then let’s not talk about this now,” I said in the most neutral voice I could manage. “Let’s see if we can figure this out later.”
A bicoastal relationship for four years, likely longer. It wasn’t any dream of mine. It sounded like a goddamn nightmare. Sure, I could fly out there every weekend, but who wanted five hours in the air each way just to spend forty-eight hours trying to cram in every conversation, every look, every caress, every event, every fuck—and go another drawn-out week with an empty bed and meals alone? I’d fall right back into my old patterns again. I knew that for a fact. It would be the only way I could cope without her.