Page 122 of The Boss Problem

I sat down on the edge of the sofa, feeling like someone had sucked all the air out of me. The bag with the Shake Shack burger fell to the floor.

Had Henry been applying for grad school?

“I did it on a dare,” Henry explained. “Ronan dared me to apply because he’d been applying too. I sent it in ages ago and forgot about it until now.”

I stared at the envelope, wondering just how much of our future we missed because we never went beyond our comfort zone.

Henry could go to graduate school.

“What is the admission for?” I asked.

The idea did not appeal to me. It would mean a lot of changes for us, and I just wasn’t mentally and emotionally ready for it.

“It’s a partial scholarship to study chemistry at MIT,” he said. “It’s for a five-year master’s and PhD program, which is mostly for people who love teaching?—”

“But you don’t,” I interrupted, hating myself as I said those words. “You dislike teaching.”

He thought about it for a moment. “I like research,” he said. “Chloe, it’s MIT.”

“What about the job covering sports for the paper?” I asked.

Henry frowned. “I’m inclined to turn it down. It’ll involve a fair bit of traveling, and you know I hate any change in my routine.”

Even with my reluctant dismissal, pieces of his future life were coming together in my mind, and I didn’t like it. I knew the offer from MIT was too good to turn down. If Henry wanted to pursue that—I gulped—then, by extension, I’d be going with him.

It would take some getting used to. Moving to Boston. I’d need to find a job there. We’d need to be in Boston for five years while he completed his PhD.

Tingles ran up my body. My brother had a bright future, and I ought to be proud of him instead of worrying.

“Oh, Henry,” I said, running over to him and putting my arms around him for a hug.

I buried my head on his shoulder, inhaling his familiar comforting smell while he patted me on the back. He let me hold him tight for a moment before he looked up at me.

“Can I read the letter?” I asked, and he nodded.

“The first year’s tuition is paid for,” he said in a minute. “And I’ll work hard to get a scholarship in the second year too. And the years after that.”

I said nothing, but looked away.

“And there’s a grant that’s providing me funds for my living expenses for the first year. We’ll obviously need to figure out the living expenses for my second year.”

He looked around the apartment. “I know it’s a huge change, but we can make it work,” he said.

We would leave New York. And therefore … Sean.

“I’ll need to figure out the expenses, of course, but I’m sure I can talk to someone at?—”

“Henry, I’m not leaving,” I said, my words ringing loud and clear.

He processed that while I looked at the cabinets and the efforts I’d gone through to make sure they were accessible to Henry. So much of our memories were tied up here.

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking confused. “You always said you’d give anything to be able to go back in time and get a college education yourself. It’s the easiest way to have access to better jobs and a better life. Those were your words.”

I sat down on the nearest chair. “Henry”—my voice was weary—“I promised myself I’d never leave this home.”

It was a lie. I didn’t want to leave Sean.

“Chloe”—his voice was gentle—“I’m not moving to Boston by myself. You’ll join me. I don’t want to leave you here. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. How are you not getting this?”

---