Chapter Twenty-three: Quinn

Chapter Twenty-Three

Quinn

“Boston?” I echo even though I heard him right the first time. “As in east coast Boston?”

“Yeah,” he says, not looking away from his phone. I can see the conflicting emotions on his face, and I hope he looks up and says it’s not worth it after all because his family is here in Chicago.

But he doesn’t.

“I think our ride is here,” he says instead, and grabs my carry-on bag, hiking it up on his shoulder. I flip my hood on to keep my hair dry and wheel my suitcase out, and the word Bostonrepeats through my mind over and over. I’ve been to New York but not Boston. It’s not a terribly long flight, but it’s no quick trip either.

And Emma will be born by then. Traveling alone with a baby has to be difficult. I can’t tell Archer not to go though, right? He’s furthering his education, not taking a year or two off to party.

“Get in so you don’t get wet,” Archer tells me, acting as if everything is normal. It’s far from it. He has a life-altering decision to make and it’s not bothering him at all. Maybe he’s already made up his mind. He wants this, after all, and getting in is a huge accomplishment. “I’ll get your suitcase.”

“Thanks,” I say distantly and climb into the back of the car. I pull my hood off and watch Archer quickly load the suitcases into the trunk. He slides in next to me, setting my carry-on in the space between us.

“Do you know how long the fellowship is?” I ask.

“Two years.”

“And you’d start in January?”

“Yeah.”

I nod, and I’m sure he knows what I’m thinking. He’ll be hours away working long shifts. What happens if I go into labor? There’s a chance he won’t make it back in time.

I blink back tears. I should be proud of him. Really fucking proud. This is no easy feat, and he mentioned before how competitive the fellowship is. Only the best of the best get in.

Archer is the best.

He’ll make a great trauma surgeon, saving lives and making the world a better place and all. Plus, being temporarily separated by distance isn’t the worse thing. There are lots of military couples who handle long distance. Archer will be in Boston, not the Middle East.

Yeah…it’s not that bad. We’ll get through this and when it’s over we’ll look back at the hard times and see how it strengthened us. This will be good in the end. Archer will be happy, and most of the time, long-term success and happiness require some give and take.

But we’d just talked about him looking for jobs in the city and us moving in together. I go from feeling like we’re on the same page to thinking he’s jumping ahead into another book. On a different shelf.

If Boston is where he wants to go, then fine. I love him, and we’ll make it work.

“So, what do you have to do about the fellowship?” I ask, picking at a loose string on the fabric seat of the car.

“Accept or decline.”

“What do you want to do?” I tear my eyes away from my lap to look at Archer. The excitement has washed away, and he’s back to looking strained and stressed.

“Let’s not worry about it now. No talking about work, remember?” He smiles, but his lack of response makes me think he wants to take it.

Which is fine. And I know it’s fine because I keep having to tell myself it’s fucking fine.

“Okay.” I reach over and take his hand. Feeling his skin on mine relaxes me, but I know there’s no way I can let this go and not think about it until he comes to a decision. This is big and life-changing. For all three of us.

*

I wish I could drink. If I could suck down a margarita right now, I so would. And then I’d probably be able to relax and not constantly wonder what Archer’s going to do about this fellowship.

We just woke up on our first official full day in Hawaii, and it couldn’t be more beautiful. I’m standing on the balcony of our hotel room looking out at the ocean trying to find my fucking zen.

The fact that I’m not jumping for joy for Archer makes me feel so guilty it’s like the morning sickness has come back full force. I am proud of him. I do want him to take the fellowship position.

But I want that position to be in Chicago. Maybe it was naive of me to assume he’d get in at Northwestern since we ran into Dr. Crawford and his wife. That’s where he works, after all, and he and Archer have emailed a few times and I even brought it up to Mrs. Crawford when we met for lunch to talk about MIT and internships.

I don’t think it’s terrible that I’m upset to think about Archer moving far away though. Anyone who’s in love would have hesitations about their better half moving states away.

Archer steps out behind me, and his hands settle on my waist. “That’s one hell of a view,” he says, lips brushing against my neck as he talks.

“It is. You might have a hard time getting me to leave.”

“We can become permanent vacationers and forget all responsibilities.” He slides his hands around to my middle. “For a few months at least.”

I close my eyes and lean back against him, inhaling deep. The sun is already warm but the breeze coming in from the ocean makes the weather perfectly enjoyable.

“Nah, we can stay here and just change Emma’s name to Moana. She’ll like the island life.”

“Maybe she’ll grow up to be a pro surfer or something. She’ll need to do something that’ll make a lot of money to support her deadbeat beach bum parents.”

I laugh, spinning in his arms. He grips me tighter and plants a kiss on my lips, making my heart do a skip-a-beat thing.

“We can start her young. Some of those athletes go pro before they can drive.”

“That’s my plan,” he says, and I laugh. Leaning down to kiss me again, he brushes my hair out of my face. It’s hanging down my back in loose waves, and I’m debating twisting it up into a bun. The constant ocean breeze is amazing but makes for messy hair.

“You are so beautiful,” Archer whispers. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too.” I hook my arms around his neck, heart lurching and wishing I could put Boston out of my mind. But I can’t because not knowing if he’s going to be miles and miles away is killing me.

I don’t want him to go, and though I’m not going to tell him that and let that sway his decision one way or another, I feel guilty over it, like I’m a bad girlfriend.

I can support him and not be happy about it, right? It’s not permanent, by any means, and just because we’ll be living apart—still—doesn’t mean things will fall apart between us. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing now, and by the time the fellowship is over, we’ll have so many frequent flyer miles we can come back here and not have to pay for airfare.

There. Much better. I just need to keep a positive outlook and—who am I fucking kidding? It’s going to suck. I’m going to hate being away from Archer, and he’ll hate being away from us. He’ll support me every way he can, but I’ll still be alone at night with a newborn.

Unless I quit my job and go to Boston with him, because I could. I don’t have to work, and can move out with him. We can rent a cute little house close to a park, and Emma and I can go visit him at the hospital for lunch. Moving far away from my family will hurt, but not being with Archer will hurt more.

“Are you okay, babe?” Archer asks. “Did your morning sickness come back or something?”

“No.” I look into his brown eyes and smile. “I’m still jetlagged I think. And hungry.”

“Let’s go get breakfast before you feel sick.”

“I think I’m okay,” I tell him, a little afraid of jinxing myself. Right around the end of my seventeenth week, the morning sickness went away. Waking up with an empty stomach makes me feel a little nauseous, but it’s nothing like it was before.

We step back into the room and Archer closes the balcony door. I run my fingers through my hair and fix the tie on my beach coverup.

“Should I put on a regular dress?” I ask Archer.

“Aren’t you wearing one?”

“No, this is a swim coverup.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get the difference.”

“This one is a little see-through.”

“I didn’t even notice and I’m always checking you out.”

I laugh and grab the beach bag. “Okay, that’s good enough for me then.”

“Walk in front of me,” he says with a smile. “Let me check out this see-through dress.”

*

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Archer asks once we’re seated for breakfast. We’re on an outdoor patio with the resort pool on one side and the ocean on the other. I cannot get over how pretty everything is here.

“Beach time, a couple’s massage, and then a luau. It’s supposed to be really good according to what I read online.”

“I’ve never had a professional massage,” Archer says as he looks over the menu.

“You’ll love it.”

“What exactly does it mean ‘do a couple’s massage’ over a regular one?”

“We’re just next to each other. Usually you do the same things, but mine has to be altered since I’m pregnant.” I glance at the drink menu. “Order a mimosa for me. I just want to smell it.”

Archer laughs. “I can do that.”

I look out at the ocean, watching people drag kayaks through the sand and into the water. There were a few things I couldn’t do that I wanted to—like kayak and go horseback riding—due to being pregnant. There were mixed reviews online about whether it was safe or not, but Archer and I decided or err on the side of caution.

“So, the fellowship,” I start, looking down at my menu. “Have you thought about it at all?”

“Nope.”

I put the menu down. “Really?”

“Really. I meant it when I said we shouldn’t think about work. Let’s focus on us and how fucking amazing it is here.”

I smile and nod, wondering how I can focus on us when I don’t know where we’ll be. I don’t want to be away from him.

“Us. Right. Well, we are doing the perfect Quinn and Archer vacation with food, sleep, and sex.”

“It’s the perfect relationship,” Archer says with a smile. “Doesn’t hurt that you’re a total hottie.”

I laugh. “We are good together and—” I cut off, hand flying to my stomach.

“Are you okay?” Archer starts to get up.

“Yeah. I felt a kick. Like a real kick.” I move my hand, feeling it again. “Whoa. That’s weird. But cool.”

“You know the whole process of conception and birth fascinates me.”

“Oh, I know. You had me watch that Miracle of Life video with you like we were in a middle-school sex ed class.”

“You never watched the end.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to see someone give birth until after I have.”

“That might be a good idea,” he laughs. The waitress comes to take our food order. When she leaves, silence falls over the table. I’m trying hard not to think about the fellowship, and I have a feeling Archer is too. But he’s right not to bring it up.

We’re in paradise together with no responsibilities. The week will be over before we know it, and then it’s back to reality.

*

“You’re looking a little red,” Archer tells me, setting his book down. We’ve been on the beach for a while, and I moved out of my shady spot inside the cabana to soak up some sun.

I sit up, readjusting my floppy hat. “I’m feeling a little warm.” I stretch and go back into the shade next to Archer and grab the sunscreen. Archer takes it from me and rubs it on my shoulders. “Want to walk in the water with me? I’ll cool off and we can explore the beach a bit.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s get something to eat first.” He grabs a bottle of water and hands it to me. “You need to make sure you stay hydrated.”

I twist off the cap and take a long drink. “You too, mister. You might be used to not taking care of yourself, but I won’t allow that on my watch.”

“Thanks, babe.” He takes his own water and finishes it off. I stick his book in my bag and move it deeper inside the cabana. Taking only my phone and wallet with me, we go to a walk-up tiki hut-themed bar that serves snack foods as well as alcohol. We bring the food back to our reserved space.

We sit close together, cuddling up after we’re done eating. Being with Archer feels so right. This is how we were meant to be.

Together.

Which makes not knowing what Archer wants to do about this fellowship hover above me like a dark shadow. Refusing to let it darken my mood, I get out my phone and take selfies of us together, and then snap a few pictures of the beach to send to Mom, who’s been texting me all day asking for more photos.

Archer and I walk along the beach for a while, and then I lay out a bit more, careful not to overheat. We go back to our room a few hours before dinner to shower and get ready.

 I stay in the bathroom to blow-dry my hair, and when I come into the room, Archer is already asleep.

Smiling at how he looks both sweet and sexy at the same time, I grab my phone and take a picture of him before carefully getting into bed next to him. The balcony doors are open, and the sound of the ocean below lulls me to sleep.

I wake up before Archer, needing to pee. When I get back into bed, I can’t fall asleep. My phone is on the mattress next to me, and I go through the photos we took today while at the beach. I upload my favorite to I*******m and send a few more to my mother.

I log back onto I*******m to check and see who’s liked my photo so far. Instead of putting my phone down and turning off my mind, I open an internet search and look up information on the fellowship.

The particular hospital in Boston is one of the best in the nation, and I’m all the more proud of him for getting in. It hurts my heart to think of us being separated, but this is his dream. I don’t want him to regret this, years later or to resent me or Emma for keeping him from following this path.

If he wants to go, I’ll have to be okay with it.