The Thai food's getting cold on my coffee table.
lissa's been quiet since arriving. Not upset-quiet. Thinking-quiet. The kind where you're rehearsing sentences in your head before saying them aloud.
I wait. Learned that from her—sotis silence is support.
"I got offered a job," she finally says.
"That's great! Where?"
"Seattle. Middle school. Teaching art and creative writing." She picks at her pad thai without eating. "It's... it's exactly what I've been working toward. Benefits, good kids, supportive administration. Dream position."
The excitent in her voice is real. So is the hesitation.
"When do they need an answer?"
"Two weeks. I'd start January fifteenth."
January. Three months away.
The math does itself: Stuart's opening Burbank location March. Can't leave LA. Two shops require presence, managent, oversight. Investnt portfolio needs monitoring. CBS consulting gigs. Leonard's blog posts. The gang's Wednesday nights.
Everything I'm building is here.
"That's—" I set down my fork. "lissa, that's incredible. You should take it."
"We haven't talked about—about us. About what this ans."
"What do you want it to an?"
She finally looks at . "I want you to co with ."
The words hang between us like physical objects.
"I can't. The shops—"
"I know. I know you can't." She's not crying, but close. "I knew before I asked. But I had to ask anyway."
"Long distance?"
"For how long? You're opening a second location. I'd be building a teaching career. We'd see each other maybe once a month?" She shakes her head. "That's not a relationship. That's nostalgia with plane tickets."
She's right. I've seen the future—not this specific relationship, but the patterns. Long distance fails when both people have growing ambitions pulling them opposite directions. Love isn't enough against geographical incompatibility.
The TV flickers with so sitcom neither of us is watching. Outside, soone's car alarm chirps off.
"So we break up," I say.
"Eventually. Yeah."
"Not tonight?"
"Not tonight." She moves closer on the couch. "I don't leave until January. We've got ti."
"To what? Extend the inevitable?"
"To appreciate what we had. End it right." Her hand finds mine. "Stuart, you—you taught that confident, successful n can also be kind. That's not nothing. I'm leaving better than I ca."
"You taught I deserve good relationships. That success isn't just money."
"Look at us. Being mature adults."
"It's disgusting."
She laughs, but tears start anyway. I pull her close. She fits against like always, except now there's an expiration date.
We finish the Thai food because wasting it seems wrong. Watch the sitcom without seeing it. Eventually migrate to the bed not for sex but just to hold each other.
"Tell about Seattle," I say in the dark.
She describes the school—old building with good bones, art room with natural light, students who actually want to be there. Her voice warms talking about it.
"Tell about Burbank."
I describe the location, the vision, how it'll be different from the Pasadena shop. Industry focus. Networking space. Maybe consulting rooms for entertainnt people needing authentic feedback.
"You're building an empire."
"Trying to."
"You'll succeed. You always do."
There's no bitterness in it. Just statent of fact.
"This sucks," she says eventually.
"Yeah."
"Right person, wrong timing."
"Story of my fucking life."
She turns to face . "At least we're doing this like adults. No drama. No bla. Just—life going different directions."
"I don't want to be an adult right now. Want to be twenty and stupid and able to just follow you without consequences."
"You'd hate Seattle after a month. No entertainnt industry. Rainy all winter. Your shops would fail without you."
"Still."
"Still," she agrees.
We lie there in comfortable silence. Not solving anything. Just being present while we can.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Probably Leonard asking about Thursday's inventory delivery. Or Sheldon with so crisis requiring imdiate mathematical intervention.
I ignore it.
"Three months," lissa says.
"Three months."
"Let's make them good. Not sad. Just—enjoying what's left."
"Deal."
She kisses . Soft, familiar, tinged with future loss. But also present happiness. Both things true simultaneously.
When she falls asleep, I lie awake thinking about the powers.
The mory showed stock prices, product launches, cultural trends. Gave perfect information about markets and movents.
Never warned about this.
Couldn't have. Personal relationships aren't in the database. lissa's career opportunity existed outside the tiline I absorbed. Real life, with variables I can't predict.
The powers made successful. But success doesn't an everything works out.
Sotis you get the girl.
Sotis the girl gets her dream job in Seattle.
And sotis love isn't enough against three thousand miles and incompatible life trajectories.
I pull her closer. She murmurs in sleep, settles against .
Three months.
Make them count.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people ans more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' tilines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Tiline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access 5 new chapters weekly.
Tiline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Tiline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the mont I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon/Whatif0
User Comments
0 comments from readers