Page 98 of Notes About Vodka

Immediately, pings of congratulations come from our friends and a few people at work, like Mads, Dante, and Isabella. They have all known our situation and have been more than supportive.

Roqui left for another show in Vegas earlier this Spring so it surprises me that she’s one of the first people to love the relationship change. We never truly got along even though she would tell people we were great friends. If I was around, I would just nod, preferring to decrease the friction I always felt when she was around.

Putting our phones away, Val and I stand for what feels like forever, just breathing each other in. The weight of the past lifts, and I feel ready for whatever comes next. Because with Val, the future isn’t some unknown force I’m afraid of—it’s a promise, one I finally believe in.

Two weeks later…

"Val," I start, my voice a little shaky as I put down my coffee cup and turn to him across the kitchen table. He’s absorbed in his laptop, but he pauses, sensing something serious in my tone. His brow furrows as he glances up, and I can see that mix of concern and maybe even a touch of dread.

"Yeah?" he says cautiously, closing the laptop partway.

I’m sharing with nervous anticipation. There’s no way, but the letter is right here, in my hands.

"I got accepted into a medical internship program," I say, taking a deep breath. "It’s the one in Baltimore where I can work in a lab while studying. But, fudge, Val. It starts next week…"

There’s a flicker in his eyes—a reaction, quick butunmistakable. His expression hardens for just a second, then shifts to something that’s a mix of surprise and concern. "Baltimore?" he repeats, and I can hear the tension in his voice. "How long?"

"Six weeks," I tell him, trying to keep my tone even. “It’s a huge opportunity, Val. This could be my path forward, something I’ve worked on for a long time. It may be my ticket into medical school next year. Read this, they already have an apartment for me in student housing with a meal plan. I’ll be paid every three weeks and expected to work in a lab for at least two-thirds the time. I’ll get to rotate through two different labs, Val. This is, oh my goodness.”

I was wait-listed for this program, but now that it can be a reality. All of the possibilities I could have.

Being a non-traditional undergraduate student has made it difficult to get into medical school.

Doesn’t help that my GPA is slowly improving even though I’ve keep all A’s at NYU and scored very well on the practice MCAT back in March.

This internship could help me go directly into medical school, or at least get me into a master’s program that leads into medical school.

Val lets out a slow breath, his hand reaching across the table for mine. His fingers are warm, threading through mine, but his grip feels tighter than usual. "We just moved in together to a new place, last week. It’s the first time we will be without roommates, Laura. I thought we were supposed to be figuring out our new life together here, not preparing for you to leave." His voice is calm, but there’s something steely under it, something that hints at the resentment brewing beneath the surface.

He’s right though.

Skipper left for Dallas for a job opportunity with a new airline company last month right before the divorce was finalized. Rhea met this great guy last fall, Sebastian, and he isescorting her around the world now that she is on a break from classes. Last time I checked, they were in Indonesia teaching local students English. I didn’t even realize she actually wanted to be an educator until she came running in with the flight tickets and eyes full of excitement.

I squeeze his hand, trying to steady him, steady myself. "I know," I say softly, "but this is crucial for my future, our future. You can come visit. Baltimore’s not that far. You can drive, you can even take the train."

“Not that far?” he echoes, a humorless chuckle escaping him. “So you’re going to quitPianissimo, leave for six weeks, and just…what? We live off love letters and weekend visits? Will you be even free on the weekends if you are working? Why are you doing this to me Laura?”

I pull my hand back, feeling a prickle of defensiveness. "I’m not doing this to you, Val. This is an opportunity I’ve earned. And yes, I’ll quitPianissimo; I’ve been working there for almost a year, and it's time to focus on my career. Maybe you should move on as well. You are going to graduate at the same time as me, but what are your plans afterwards? You haven’t even started to make a business plan for your restaurant idea,Blini, Blini, Blini."

"So, you’re just leaving me to foot the bills while you chase this dream, right? You’re asking me to hold down everything here while you go play intern in another city?" His words come out sharper than he probably intended, and I can feel the sting in each one.

"Hold down everything?" I repeat, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. "Since when is supporting each other’s careers just ‘holding down everything’? You knew this was what I wanted from the beginning, Val. I’ve never been secretive about that. And I make plenty of money fromPianissimoand didn’t you listen, this internship is going to pay. It’s justnot immediate like tips from playing piano and waiting tables."

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched. "I knew you wanted to go to med school, yeah. But I thought moving in together was a sign that we were building something here. Together. Not that you’d be ready to up and leave as soon as something better came along."

The frustration that’s been building up finally spills over. "You act like I’m leaving you behind for good! This is six weeks. Six weeks in a program that could give me the experience I need for med school. You can’t be that threatened by it."

“Threatened?” he snaps, his eyes flashing. "It’s not about being threatened, Laura. It’s about feeling like I’m just here, some sort of support prop for you to lean on when it’s convenient. Six weeks here, a semester there, then what? You’re going to keep picking up and leaving whenever you need to? What’s next, you are gone for what, years?”

I meet his gaze, my anger giving way to something colder. "And what do you think this relationship is supposed to be, Val? Just me putting my life on hold, waiting around for you to finally let me go after what I want? If you really loved me, you’d support me instead of trying to guilt-trip me into staying."

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You really think love is just cheering you on from the sidelines while you follow your dreams? What about mine? What about settling down, building something here, together? You act like that doesn’t matter."

"I’m not asking you to give up your dreams, Val! I want both of us to get what we want, but that means supporting each other. I’ve worked too hard for this. You don’t get to make me feel guilty for wanting more than just a shared apartment and a job at a bar."

His face hardens, and he’s quiet for a long moment, as ifhe’s choosing his next words carefully. "It’s not about the bar, Laura. It’s about feeling like I’m not even a part of your plans. And it’s hard not to think that if you had to choose, you’d leave me in a heartbeat. I mean, look at how fast you left Sam for another man."

I stare at him, his words landing heavier than he probably meant. "If you feel like that, maybe it’s because you’re trying to make me pick between you and a future that includes you."

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