“I’ve run these numbers a million times. Unless we somehow get another influx of cash—”

“Or we cut costs elsewhere.”

I shake my head. “There’s...there’s nowhere to cut costs.”

“I’m taking a pay cut,” she says. She smiles like the words she’s saying aren’t earth-shattering. “That’s how we save this place. I’m a partial owner now and I know you aren’t taking a salary yet, Amy. My salary is one of our biggest expenses.”

She holds her arms open.

I want to fall into them, into the softness of her body, her strength. I want her to be the one to hold me up for a while, just a little bit. But if she does that for me, I’ll break. I know I will. I’ll let her choose Boston and me and our restaurant. I’ll let her choose to take far less than she’s worth, over the world.

The literal world.

And it’s not the same, the relationship my father had with my mother. But it is, too. Because he kept her around, strung along, long after he’d fallen out of love with her. He kept her here under his thumb when she could have been flourishing instead.

I won’t be that for Sophie. She’ll hate me for it. But this is one last decision that I have to make.

“I’m not going to let you choose me over the opportunity of a lifetime. Not when you’ll resent me for it later.”

She tilts her chin, bites the inside of her lip. “Well, it’s not your choice to make,” she says.

I make myself hard, the way I did when I was a kid and my dad made my mom cry again, or when Wes found me after school, his nose running with blood and his glasses cracked. I make myself the girl with weapons for feelings because it’s the only way I can get her to see, to make the right choice.

“It kind of is, though.” I walk around the desk to the door, holding it open so I can make a quick getaway. She doesn’t turn to follow me, showing me her back as she stares at the white painted brick wall.

“You should come out on the show, if that’s what you want.” It hurts to breathe right now, to say these words, like I’ve taken a bite of something far too hot and it burns all the way down my throat. “But you and me? There’s nothing to...come out about. There’s nothing to announce. We’re not together.”

Her shoulders reach her ears by the time I’m done. Slowly she turns. The green in her eyes is vivid from the tears that don’t fall.

“You are so selfish.”

I’ve never had to take a punch, but her words hit like one anyway. I have to fight to stay upright. Not to let the pain in my stomach keel me over entirely.

“I chose this.” She points at the floor, at this restaurant. “I chose us. I chose you. But I also chose me, too.” She turns her finger on herself, hitting her chest so hard I can hear it from here. “I love you, Amy. I love what we’ve built. And that’s for me. Not just you. But obviously you know what’s best for me. You know what I want out of my career. Out of my life. Have you ever bothered to think about that? To ask?”