Page 73 of Double Exposure

“Because I would be out of the country for a month, maybe six weeks.”

“But it's what you do. You can’t give up what you do.”

“This isn’t a good time, Carter. I want to stay here with you.”

He reaches out and his thumb rubs my lower lip. “Haven’t you figured out it’s never a good time? There’s always going to be some reason not to go away. But this is what you do. You can’t give that up for me.”

He pats his lap.

“No weight, six weeks,” I say and remain standing.

“See,” he says and closes his eyes. He grips the bed table for a moment. “Perfect timing. You come back and I get a lap dance.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he says, the dizziness must have passed. His eyes open. “You are a brilliant professional photographer. You wouldn't be the person you are or the person you're going to be if you hit the pause button.”

“I don’t want to have the kind of marriage my parents have. I want a partner.”

“I think what your parents have is extraordinary,” he says. He stands and pulls me close.

My heart skips a beat. It feels so good to have him next to me. “I love you, and that love is just more important. I’m not sure I can do both.”

I wasn't expecting the grin that spreads across his face. “You have it wrong. I trust you completely to be able to do both. What we have is extraordinary, right?”

I nod.

“Part of the reason it’s extraordinary . . . is because you're extraordinary. This,” he says taking an index finger and pointing it at me and then himself, back and forth, “This is unbreakable. But if you gave up the very thing you've wanted to do your whole life, that puts way too much pressure on me. I can't be that perfect guy. I can't give you what you get from photography.”

I am so confused right now. “So, you’d be okay with me just leaving and being gone for six weeks.”

Kissing the top of my head he takes a step back, and I’m left staring into those blue eyes. “This isn't the dark ages. There are ways to make contact besides carrier pigeon.” He smiles and he kisses the tops of both of my hands. “We can video chat virtually every day, and we can sext.”

My voice betrays how shaky my smile is. “My parents can never see my phone.”

He pulls back, both hands gripping my arms. “There might be times when you're only back for a week and we fight that whole week. That's okay. That's part of a marriage.”

“A marriage?”

“Well, that's my end goal.”

“How can I marry you if I don’t know your favorite story?”

He ignores this pivot. “Please don't tell me you turned it down.”

I sigh. “No, I haven't. I haven't, yet,” I say trying to pull my hands back but he hangs and gently turns each wrist over to press a kiss, like two secrets on the inside of each one. His warm lips on my tender skin makes me shiver.

“You’ll be by my side, even when we’re apart,” I say trying for some conviction.

Pressing his lips to my ear he whispers, “I want to be as necessary and unseen as the air in these mountains. You’ll be with me at all times.”

My legs quiver and I slip both hands into his.

“And just think how great it’ll be when we see each other again,” he says into my hair.

I close my eyes and make a memory: His body, tall and straight, his hands eclipsing mine, how when I tip my face to his, he leans down to kiss me, our breath becoming one.

What would this feel like after six weeks apart? This is what my mother meant by longing.