I stood. “I really can’t talk to you right now.”

“Please don’t be upset.”

I spun around to face him. “Are you serious? Jamie, this has been on the calendar for weeks. It’s really important to me. Abuela probably won’t make the trip again, ever. And the main reason she’s coming is so she can see her grandchildren—see me—happy and settled. Do you know how many missionaries she’s given my phone number to? How many men she’s had call me, sure they were going to be the one to win my heart? In her mind, I am ancient and alone and will never get married unless she continues to intervene. This was my chance to show her I’m fine. I’m happy. And look, I have this amazing man who loves me and wants to take care of me.”

“I do love you.”

“Then come with me.”

He dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t, Lane. I’m so sorry.” Some small part of me knew this wasn’t entirely Jamie’s fault. There was a little bit of hero worship going on between Byron and him, which was expected considering the circumstances. It made sense, even if it was annoying, that Jamie would jump through Byron’s hoops. But this. This was big and hard, and I was having a difficult time wrapping my head around it. He’d been gone so much lately. This felt like one more way he was putting distance between us.

Suddenly, all the not knowing regarding our relationship felt like too much to handle. For the first time, I wondered if maybe Jamie was having doubts about us. Curse my overconfidence. I’d been dealing with my own doubts without even considering the possibility that maybe the reason we weren’t talking about his potential move was because he didn’t want to. “Can you please talk to me about California?” I blurted out.

He kept his eyes down, his jaw clenched.

“Jamie, it’s the giant elephant in the room, and it’s making me crazy. I feel like we’re trapped in this weird middle ground. Are you moving? Are you staying? Do you even want me to be a part of that decision? Right now you’re putting this business move before everything else. And I get that. But you have to start talking to me. I literally have no idea what to expect. It’s like a game of chance whether or not I’m going to get to see you from week to week. You’re here, then you’re gone. You’re spending Thanksgiving with me, then you’re not. It’s exhausting. And suddenly all I’m imagining is your doubt. Because if you didn’t have doubts, you’d be talking to me about this.”

He took a breath like he was going to speak, then huffed, shaking his head.