Page 98 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

“So loving my family and wanting to keep us together isn’t an amazing opportunity?”

I cross my arms. Not to intimidate. I need to hold myself together. “I won’t let you lose the job of a lifetime because of me. Not again.”

“Except this is my life.” She jabs at her chest. “Mine. You don’t get a vote in this.”

“I do when I’m the reason you’re making the decision.”

“Not everything’s about you!” Her complexion reddens, anger firing in her eyes. “Max is finally happy here in Windfall, making friends, coming out of his shell. I moved here after a lot of thought, before your family even found you to tell you about him. I wanted to set roots down in this town, for me and my family. If I move Max again so quickly, take him away from his new friends and you after just getting you in his life? How do you think that will affect him?”

I cover my mouth with my hand, at a loss. Max is sensitive and sweet and emotional, and I wasn’t thinking about him. I was thinking about Sadie. And about me—my need to see her succeed. I was being an inconsiderate parent who didn’t consider his kid.

Now I’m the one who’s frozen, internalizing, eyes stinging, trying to think my way through this. “I won’t go to school then. I’ll ditch law and come with you to Arizona.”

“Not up for discussion.”

“So you get to make all the decisions, and I get to make none?”

“Didn’t you promise not to undermine my independence?” She fists her hands and closes her eyes, then exhales, focusing on me as her shoulders drop. “When you went into witness protection, you lost as much as I did. Probably more. You lost your career and me, and you lost Max. So it’s Duke or die, Des. It always has been. If you want to stay together, you’re getting that degree.”

I could tell her I don’t care about the degree. Not if I’m choosing between law and being with my family—between law and most things these days. But she just admitted what I already knew: she needs me to be the future Duke lawyer she fell in love with at seventeen. Not the guy Justin Bernardini laughed at. Or the guy who slings drinks for a living and cuts his fingers on paper when he’s trying to destress. If I don’t get that degree, I’ll always be an embarrassment to my family. I’ll probably lose her down the road.

“Then we do this long distance,” I force out.

“I’m not taking the job.” Obstinance has nothing on her.

“You can’t give up your dreams, Sadie. I won’t allow it.” My jaw’s clenched so tight my molars might crack. “My stipulation’s the same as yours. If you want to stay together, you’re taking that job.”

“You would seriously leave me and Max over this? After promising you wouldn’t hurt us.”

I’m shaking now. A terrified, spineless leaf of a man. Of course I wouldn’t leave her and Max. That pathetic bit of posturing was nothing but a knee-jerk reaction. The only solution is convincing Sadie to change her mind. “If I weren’t in the picture, would you have moved Max and taken the job?”

She stares at me. I stare at her. A contest of wills I won’t lose. I love her too much to watch her give up this vital part of who she is.

“Sadie,” I say quietly. “Tell me honestly—does the idea of being head curator excite you?”

She drags her teeth over her bottom lip, breathing harder, weighing, assessing. Then she deflates. “It’s an unreal opportunity. I’d be working with brilliant creators, the space will be breathtaking, and Sarah’s budget means we wouldn’t be strapped for cash when pulling together exhibits and installations. Not to mention the pay is . . . a lot. But even wanting this makes me feel so selfish. Max is happy here. And you’re here. I won’t lose what we’re building or hurt Max. I just . . . won’t.” She flattens her lips. “The sacrifice is worth it.”

No, it isn’t. Not again. Not this time. And she didn’t answer my question. “But if I wasn’t in the picture. If I never came back—would you have taken the job, even if it meant moving Max again?”

Her chin quivers, a near-silent sob making her heave. “Yes,” she whispers.

“Then you have to take it.” I close the distance between us and brush an errant tear from her cheek. “Max has your blood running through his veins. He’s strong and resilient. If he made friends here, he’ll make friends there.” The idea of moving him away from Jasmine and Zoey and my family pains me, but there’s no mistaking the anguish in the admission Sadie tried to hide. She wants this job desperately. If she turns it down, it will eat at her. “You’ve said yourself how uncreative you feel cooped up, working from home, not seeing the office buildings you decorate, or most of the art in the flesh. You can’t pass this up.”

“I won’t lose you again.” She grabs my wrist, her fingers digging in. “Max can’t lose you.”

“You’re not losing me. We’re not breaking up. I’ll be at school, talking to you both all the time.”

“But we need you with us. These are such important years for Max.”

Low blow. Not fair. She knows that’s a direct hit to my heart, but I won’t falter. Max is resilient. The two of us have to be strong for his mother.

I press my forehead to hers. “I need you two as much as you need me, but I need you to be happy more. I need to know I didn’t steal your career from you again.”

I’m not as strong as her. I can’t live with this knowledge. Seeing those quiet moments where she looks frustrated and resigned, knowing why now. Knowing I’m the cause.

“Please, honey. Take the job.”

We breathe like that for several long moments, our foreheads touching, hands clutching. I feel her softening, the tension in her arms giving way. Thank God.