Chapter 34

Chapter 34: The Weight of Tomorrow

The first real snowfall came two days after Lucas accepted the internship in San Francisco. Emma woke to a world blanketed in soft white, the streets hushed and the trees coated in frost. Outside their apartment window, children played in the courtyard, laughter echoing off the buildings. But inside, the quiet was heavier.

Lucas was at the kitchen table, hunched over his laptop. A half-drunk cup of coffee steamed beside him. His brows were furrowed, his focus deep.

Emma stood in the doorway, wrapped in a worn flannel robe, watching him.

She loved this version of him—the driven, goal-focused Lucas who chased his ambitions with relentless energy. But today, she also felt the ache that came with knowing this chapter was nearing an end.

"Still working on that project?" she asked, her voice a whisper in the morning calm.

He looked up, startled. "Hey. Yeah, just finalizing some code for the app launch next week." He gestured to the couch. "Come sit. You're cold."

Emma padded over and curled up beside him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders instinctively, pulling her close.

They sat in silence for a while. The only sounds were the soft hum of the radiator and the rhythmic tapping of Lucas's keys.

"So," she said eventually, "have you looked at places to stay in San Francisco yet?"

Lucas hesitated. "A few. There's a studio near the office. Expensive, though."

Emma nodded, lips pressed in a thin line.

"You know you could come with me," he said quietly.

Her heart skipped.

She'd imagined it, of course. Them, together in a new city. New adventures. A fresh start.

But her own show at the gallery was opening in two months. And she'd been offered an apprenticeship with a local muralist she'd admired for years. Boston was just beginning to feel like home.

"I could," she said. "But… I think I need to stay. At least for now."

Lucas nodded. "I figured."

They sat with the tension for a while. It wasn't anger. Just… reality.

---

Later that afternoon, Emma met up with her best friend, Jade, at the café around the corner. They huddled near the window, sipping hot chocolate, watching the snow swirl in waves.

"You okay?" Jade asked, stirring whipped cream into her drink.

Emma gave a small shrug. "I don't know. Everything's good… but also, not easy."

Jade tilted her head. "You're scared."

"Terrified," Emma admitted. "We've spent the last year holding everything together—texting across time zones, flying back and forth. Now we're in the same place, and suddenly we're planning how to be apart again."

"You're not going backwards," Jade said. "You're just… leveling up. Long distance round two. Stronger this time."

Emma smiled faintly. "I want to believe that."

"Then believe it."

Emma thought about that as she walked home. About belief and choices and the quiet courage it took to let someone chase their dreams while staying rooted in your own.

---

That night, she painted until her fingers cramped.

The canvas in front of her was abstract—streaks of bold color and splashes of light. But to Emma, it was everything she couldn't say. The ache of loving someone deeply but not being able to follow them. The bittersweet beauty of watching them fly without you.

Lucas found her asleep on the floor of her studio, paint-streaked and curled in a blanket. He carried her to bed without a word, kissing her forehead and pulling the covers over her shoulders.

He lay beside her in the dark, eyes wide open, wondering if love was enough.