Page 25 of Catastrophically Yours
Because that's what this was—a departure. The careful politeness in Drew's voice, the physical distance she'd maintained since Piper walked in, the way she'd said "I haven't decided" while clearly having already decided. These were the behaviors of someone preparing to leave, trying to minimize damage on the way out.
"Piper?"
She turned to find Drew hovering in the kitchen doorway, her earlier rigid posture replaced by something almost hesitant.
"I want you to know that this isn't..." Drew's hands gestured vaguely. "The timing is complicated. After everything we talked about the other night..."
This isn't about you, but you're collateral damage.The meaning came through clear enough.
"I understand." Piper forced brightness into her voice. "Career opportunities don't wait for convenient timing. You should absolutely consider all your options."
Something shifted in Drew's expression—surprise, maybe, or disappointment. "You think I should take it?"
The question felt like a trap. What was the right answer here? Should she fight for something that had never been clearly defined? Should she voice feelings that might create guilt or obligation? Should she pretend that watching Drew leave wouldn't feel like losing something precious she'd never quite been allowed to claim?
"I think," Piper said carefully, "that you're the only one who can decide what's right for your life and career."
Drew's shoulders sagged slightly. "Right. Of course."
They moved around the kitchen in a bizarre pantomime of normalcy—Piper plating food, Drew retrieving utensils, both of them maintaining careful distance as if proximity might complicate the clean lines Drew was trying to draw around her decision. The domesticity of it felt like a cruel joke now.
"So," Piper said as they settled at the small dining table, "when would you need to leave?"
"If I decide to take it," Drew corrected quickly, though the correction felt hollow. "But potentially within the week. Chris has connections who could expedite the logistics."
Within the week.Piper nodded as if this timeline struck her as perfectly reasonable rather than devastatingly sudden. "That doesn't leave much time for arrangements."
"No." Drew picked at her pad thai without actually eating any. "But honestly, how much do I really have to arrange? Most of my stuff could fit in a car. It's not like I have roots here or anything."
The casual dismissal of everything they'd been building hit Piper like a physical blow. But Drew wasn't wrong, was she?What did she have here, really? A temporary housing situation that had gotten complicated, a handful of coffee shops that let her play music, friends who would understand if dreams called her away.
Nothing that couldn't be abandoned with a week's notice.
"That's one advantage of keeping things simple," Piper agreed, proud of how steady her voice remained. "Less complication when opportunities arise."
Drew's fork paused halfway to her mouth. "Exactly."
They ate in the kind of polite quiet that characterized dinner conversations between strangers—comments about the food quality, observations about the weather, careful inquiries about each other's immediate work obligations. Nothing about feelings or future plans or what any of this meant for the tentative something that had been growing between them.
Pickle remained conspicuously absent, as if even he could sense the emotional distance opening between them.
"I should probably start researching neighborhoods in Nashville," Drew said as they cleared the table. "Chris mentioned a few areas that are good for musicians."
"Smart planning," Piper replied, accepting the plate Drew handed her with exaggerated politeness. "Research makes any transition smoother."
"Thank you."
"Of course."
They moved around each other like awkward dancers, all careful courtesy and formal gratitude. When Drew's hand accidentally brushed Piper's while reaching for the dishwashing soap, both women jerked back as if contact might burn.
This was what the end looked like, apparently. Not dramatic arguments or tearful confessions, but polite distance and practical conversations about logistics. Drew methodicallysevering connections while Piper facilitated the process with helpful suggestions and supportive platitudes.
By the time the kitchen was clean, the careful politeness had become suffocating.
"I think I'll turn in early," Drew announced, hovering near the hallway. "Give myself time to think through everything properly."
"Good idea." Piper's smile felt like it might crack her face. "Important decisions deserve careful consideration."
