Chapter 36: Love Like This
The early morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains, casting golden patterns across the hardwood floor of their new apartment. Emma woke slowly, her body tangled in sheets and limbs, the warmth of Lucas beside her grounding and familiar. His chest rose and fell in a slow, peaceful rhythm, his face inches from hers.
She studied him for a moment, the slight scruff on his jaw, the way his lips curled just slightly even in sleep.
A month ago, she was watching him through a screen. Now, she could reach out and brush her fingers against his cheek—and she did, lightly, just to make sure he was real.
Lucas stirred. "Creeping on me already?" he mumbled without opening his eyes.
Emma laughed softly. "Maybe."
He cracked one eye open. "Admit it. You were admiring my flawless morning breath."
She rolled her eyes. "It's like coffee and death."
He grinned, pulling her closer. "You love it."
She did.
---
Their first month in Denver was a whirlwind. Between unpacking, job hunting, and navigating a new city, there was barely time to breathe. But somehow, amidst the chaos, they carved out moments that belonged just to them.
Emma got a part-time job at a local gallery. It wasn't glamorous—mostly paperwork and cleaning paintbrushes—but it put her around art. Around people who understood the way colors could bleed emotion, how brushstrokes could scream without sound.
Lucas worked remotely for a tech startup, coding for long hours with headphones on, often leaving sticky notes with little sketches of robots or hearts on her easel.
They fought, sometimes.
About money.
About space.
About the thermostat.
But the fights ended with apologies whispered into necks, with arms wrapped tight around each other, because the love was always louder.
---
One night, two months in, Emma came home to find Lucas sitting on the floor, their coffee table in pieces beside him.
She blinked. "Um…?"
He looked up sheepishly. "Tried to fix the wobbly leg. Might've made it worse."
Emma dropped her bag. "I loved that table."
"It was fifteen dollars on Craigslist, Em."
"It had character."
He stood, brushing sawdust off his jeans. "Then I guess I destroyed a masterpiece."
Emma crossed her arms. "You owe me."
He raised a brow. "Oh, do I?"
She nodded, stepping closer. "Big time."
His lips curved. "What's the damage?"
She leaned in. "Dinner. With candles. And that dress I like you in."
Lucas laughed. "I'll wear the dress. You light the candles."
---
Dinner was burnt.
The wine was cheap.
They ate on the floor with paper plates.
But they danced after, slow and barefoot, the music from her phone crackling slightly, his hand on her back, her cheek pressed to his shoulder.
And in that moment, Emma couldn't remember ever being happier.
---
One week later
Emma stood at the gallery entrance, nerves twisting in her stomach. Tonight was the open call for local artists—a chance to showcase one piece in the upcoming spring exhibit. It was the kind of opportunity she dreamed of, the kind she used to talk about like it was a fantasy.
And now… she was here.
Lucas had helped her set up that afternoon, gently lowering the canvas onto the easel while she paced like a storm. It was a piece she'd poured herself into: a silhouette of a girl on a tightrope, balancing above a cityscape that looked suspiciously like Denver. Her heart was a bloom in her chest, visible through her ribcage.
"It's called The Leap," she had explained.
Lucas had looked at her, something bright and fierce in his gaze. "It's you."
Now, the gallery buzzed with voices, wine glasses clinking, strangers wandering past each canvas with thoughtful expressions. Emma tried not to stare at people staring at her painting.
Lucas found her by the punch table.
"You're hiding," he teased.
She huffed. "I'm observing."
He offered his arm. "Come observe with me."
They walked through the gallery together. People had left sticky notes under each canvas with comments—kind, curious, sometimes strange. One under Emma's piece said, I feel seen.
That one made her tear up.
They stepped outside later for air, the night crisp and full of stars.
"You were amazing in there," Lucas said.
Emma leaned against him. "You didn't think I'd do it, did you?"
"I knew you'd do it," he said simply. "I just didn't know you'd wreck me in the process."
She looked up. "Wreck you?"
"That painting," he said softly, brushing a curl behind her ear. "You were always brave. Now you believe it, too."
She smiled through the lump in her throat.
---
Three weeks later
Lucas got a job offer. A big one. In Chicago.
He told her on a Tuesday, nervously twisting the corner of his hoodie. "It's full-time. Great pay. Health benefits. They want me to start in June."
Emma blinked. "June? That's in—"
"Six weeks."
Her stomach dropped. "What about… here?"
"I don't want to leave you," he said quickly. "But it's a real chance. A good one."
Emma nodded slowly. "And me?"
"I want you with me," he said, his voice rough. "Always. But I know you're finally getting your footing here. I don't want to pull you away."
She looked down at her hands, the paint stains she hadn't scrubbed off. "It's not fair."
"I know."
They sat in silence.
Then Emma said, "Let's not decide tonight."
He nodded.
They went to bed curled around each other, but didn't sleep.
---
In the days that followed, Emma found herself drifting—between the gallery and long walks, between hope and fear. She loved Lucas. That hadn't changed. But what if love wasn't enough?
What if timing still had teeth?
What if choosing one dream meant killing another?
---
One week before June
They sat in the park, watching kids fly kites.
"I think you should take it," Emma said softly.
Lucas turned to her. "What?"
"The job. Chicago. You should go."
His jaw tightened. "Without you?"
"I didn't say that," she said, voice trembling. "I just think… maybe we both need time to stand on our own before we stand together again."
Lucas stared at her, heart in his throat. "Are you breaking up with me?"
"No," she said. "I'm asking you to trust that we'll find each other again."
His eyes burned. "Emma—"
"We're not done," she whispered. "We're just… pausing."
He pulled her into him, their kiss full of heartbreak and promise.
"I'll come back for you," he said.
"I'll be waiting," she answered.
---
June 2nd
Lucas boarded a flight to Chicago.
Emma stood at the gate until the plane was gone.
Then she went home.
Alone.
But not empty.