I don’t want to talk about us.
She might talk about something else, and it felt critical to him to keep that lifeline with her open. Can you give me some advice?
Go to bed.
Not come to bed. He deserved that. He typed, About a client. They’d talked work issues through often; this wasn’t such a reach if it kept her with him.
What have you got?
Medical devices company. Can’t decide which market position to take. The company had to pick a direction before Tom could help them. He was powerless to make a difference for them until they did.
Why is the decision so difficult?
No clear-cut view of the upside long-term.
Flip a coin.
That’s not your advice, is it?
Yeah. No clear upside means the downside is not making any decision, or doing something half-baked and losing momentum. If a thorough analysis doesn’t show a reliable defined benefit, pick a side and focus your energies on making that decision the best outcome.
He knew it. He’d been saying that in different ways all day. What about post-decision conflict? Blame game.
No place for it. Don’t look back. The conditions will likely have changed.
Right.
Wait. He watched the three little dots for the rest of her words and then heard them. “There’s no device company. We’ve been talking about you.”
He turned toward the sound of her voice. Havischam Medical was a real client with a real market dilemma, but she was right. He’d told his own story in the guise of the client’s problem and he hadn’t seen the parallel until now. “Ah, Flick, I didn’t realize. I’ve fucked this up again.”
She walked into the ambient light from the lamp he’d lit, hair wild around her face and shoulders, sleep shorts and a bleach-stained T-shirt. A long way from the sea-green nightdress but equally as beautiful. “No, you haven’t. I understand.”
He wanted to go to her, touch her so badly, but he didn’t deserve the comfort of that. “Don’t do that. Don’t let me off.”
“We didn’t plan this thing between us, and I spooked you.” She came closer. “We don’t know what potential there is long-term and it’s irrelevant because we’ve already flipped the coin. I’m leaving and I always was, and you’re staying because this is your home, where you’re building your career and your life.”
It was a cold, clear, emotionless analysis, but it soothed him, it gave him a sense of order, a way to evaluate what he felt. He didn’t know how this would play out in the long term and he didn’t see the upside, just the fact that they were very different, that he wouldn’t have chosen Flick, and she wouldn’t have chosen him.
He stepped in from the balcony. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Flick.” The confusing thing is that I’m consumed by you.
She looked at the ceiling. “You could’ve told me that this morning.”
“I fucked up.”
“I get that now. I thought—”
He cut her off. “Don’t. This doesn’t have to be the end of us.” They could try flipping cities, seeing each other weekends.
“I can’t do something half-baked, Tom. That’s not how I roll.”
They were separated by the coffee table; it felt like they were already in different states. “I love you, Flick.” God, how it felt to say those words, to see her face as he said them, the way her lips caught in her teeth, her eyes closed tight and then were glassy when she opened them. “I’ve never said that to a living soul. I love you and I didn’t expect it, and I don’t have any experience dealing with it, but I know it’s not enough, not on its own. For a couple to make it, they need more.” They couldn’t be Josh and Wren. “Shared life expectation. More time together living in the real world.” Not playing a coupon-based simulation.
She broke eye contact, and that infinitesimally small retreat was another shift in his balance. “I thought you might’ve gone. I would’ve chased you down to have the chance to tell you how I feel,” he said.
“Considered it. Wanted to give you time to deal with the explosion.”
“I dealt with it badly.”