My mind echoed back to Dom’s question when I told him I was engaged.
Do you really want to do this?
“Molly…” I scrunched my nose, squinting at her, trying to figure out if she was being real. She was acting seriously enough, at least. “I thought we were getting married?”
“Um, well, no, not really,” she said, her lips twisting as she rubbed her free hand over her wrist. “You asked me to marry you, and I said yes. That’s not the same thing.”
I stared at her, taking in everything I’d just seen of her in a new light.
“I mean, you didn’t even give me a ring,” she followed up weakly.
“Are you joking? You’re choosing now to tell me this?” I asked.
I couldn’t put any genuine emotion into my voice when my need for sleep was gnawing at me. My irritation morphed into a flare of emptiness as I looked at her in disbelief.
“It seems like the perfect opportunity.” She shrugged.
“Really?” I searched her face, wondering what the hell was going on. “I have two weeks until the vote. And you think here, now, before you leave for five weeks, is the ‘perfect opportunity’ to tell me?” My shoulders pressed back as I straightened myself and glared at her.
She went to answer, but I squeezed her hand.
“One second,” I said. I needed at least that to clear the fog in my brain and actually focus on what she’d said.
“Molly,” I said as neutrally as possible, despite the boiling pot bubbling inside me. “How long have you felt like this? Is your plan to just dump all this on me and leave without having to actually talk about it?”
“We’re talking about it now,” she said. I receded even deeper into that place where I was so angry that all I could do was stay calm. Molly and Mum were the only people who could make me so furious that it hurt.
“No. We are not talking,” I replied. “You could have said this months ago when you booked the flight, or when I asked you to marry me, or even when you arrived in Oslo and there was actually time to discuss this.”
“But we never talk,” Molly stressed. “What’s the point of waiting for the right moment when this is the first time we’ve actually had space to be together for a month?”
I took a slow breath, knowing how much it irritated her when I needed time to answer. The twitch of her lips only proved it.
“I can’t stop when I’m so close. Molly, I’ve told you how many people need me, what it will mean for The Foundation if I'm voted in. If I don’t fight here, then it will all have been for nothing.”
She tugged at my hand, determination bold on her face. “So, try fighting for me, too. Show me you actually care, and that this relationship means something to you. Because I don’t feel a fucking thing off of you right now, even though this is the closest we’ve been for days.”
I pressed my lips hard together to hold myself back. The problem was that I knew she preferred it when I fought with her, not for her.
“The Foundation helps thousands of people,” I said coldly. “I wouldn’t make you decide between me or your patients. Why are you making me choose here? Especially when you’re leaving.”
“Because I don’t have a choice!” she snapped back. “How else am I going to get you to listen to me!?”
I paused, my eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. I ran back through my memories of the past month, thinking of all the times we’d been together. They were fewer than most months,but we had already talked so many times about what I was doing at The Foundation that I thought she understood.
But I stemmed my anger. It didn’t matter how much weight I had piled on myself by taking on this position, or how I was forcing myself to go without sleep to remain caught up at work. I could handle it. I was strong. I was a Fischer.
“You’re right. Okay. Yes, you’re right.” I dropped my head as I sighed. “But I’m not the only one responsible here.”
“That’s not the point,” she said, easily brushing away my apology. “I think we just need time so both of us can consider where we want to go in the future.”
Which is exactly what I would say to someone asking for funds for a project I already knew we wouldn’t sponsor.
“No, Molly. I think this is the point. You work nights, you refuse to attend any Foundation events, and you don't want to spend time with my family. How am I the only one making myself unavailable?”
“It wouldn’t matter if Iwashere. You’d still focus on your work. This is the first time we've had space in weeks, and I couldn’t tell you until we were properly alone.”
Meaning she did know how deeply it would affect me.