They worked until the sun was high and Maya's hands were cramping. Then they packed up, both reluctant to leave this perfect bubble they'd created.
"Food?" Ethan asked.
"Desperately."
They found a diner twenty minutes away, the kind of place with vinyl booths and unlimited coffee and breakfast served all day. They ordered too much food and ate slowly, stealing from each other's plates.
"Tell me about Thailand," Maya said, surprising herself. She'd been avoiding thinking about his departure, but maybe that was wrong. Maybe she needed to face it head-on.
Ethan's expression shifted pleasure that she asked, sadness at the reminder. "It's a six-week assignment shooting a luxury resort campaign. Beaches, temples, street food. I've been looking forward to it for months."
"But?"
"But now I'm thinking about what I'll miss here." He took her hand across the table. "I'm thinking about you painting by the river. About dinners like this. About all the small moments I'll be somewhere else for."
"You should go," Maya said firmly, even though her chest ached. "It's your job. Your life. I can't I won't be the reason you give up opportunities."
"I know. And I will go. But Maya" He leaned forward. "What if you came with me? Not the whole time. Just a week or two. You said you can do some remote sessions, right? Bring your paints. We'll work during the day, explore at night."
Maya's immediate reaction was no. Absolutely not. Too risky, too much, too fast.
But then she thought about her mother's voice: When are you going to take a risk?
She thought about Dr. Chen asking: What risk can you live with?
She thought about herself, alone in her apartment, safe and small and slowly disappearing.
"I need to think about it," Maya said.
"That's not a no."
"It's not a yes either."
"I'll take it." Ethan's smile was hopeful, dangerous. "Think about it. Really think about it. Because I think you're braver than you know."
"I'm not brave. I'm terrified."
"Bravery is being terrified and doing it anyway." He traced patterns on her palm. "Besides, we'd be terrified together, remember? That's our thing."
Despite everything, Maya laughed. "We have a thing?"
"We absolutely have a thing. It's dysfunctional and probably doomed, but it's ours."
They lingered in the diner until the lunch rush started, then drove back to the city with the windows cracked and the music low. Maya watched the landscape pass and tried to imagine herself in Thailand sticky heat, unfamiliar streets, herself in a foreign place with this man she was starting to care about far too much.
It terrified her.
It also thrilled her.
When Ethan pulled up in front of her building, neither of them moved to get out.
"Come upstairs," Maya said before she could overthink it.
Ethan's eyes darkened. "Maya"
"Just to see my place. To show you my mom's paintings." She paused. "And maybe to kiss you without an audience."
"I'm very interested in that last part."
They made it to her apartment, barely. Made it through the door. Then Ethan was pressing her against the wall, his mouth on hers, and Maya forgot every reason this was a bad idea.
"Bedroom?" he asked against her lips.
"End of the hall."
They stumbled down the hallway, shedding clothes, all the careful control from the morning dissolving into need. When they fell onto her bed, Maya felt two years of frozen grief crack open into something warm and alive and terrifying.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, both breathing hard.
"I'm falling for you," Ethan said into the quiet. "I know it's too fast. I know it's insane. But I need you to know I'm falling, and it scares the hell out of me."
Maya's heart stopped. Started. Stuttered. "Ethan"
"You don't have to say it back. I just needed to say it out loud." He propped himself up on one elbow, looked down at her. "Six weeks feels impossible now. How did that happen?"
"I don't know." Maya traced the line of his jaw. "But I'm scared too. Of this. Of you. Of myself."
"Want to be scared together?"
"We keep saying that like it's romantic instead of dysfunctional."
"Maybe it's both." He kissed her softly. "Stay with me today. Let's not think about Thailand or leaving or any of it. Just be here. Now."
Maya should say no. Should protect herself, slow this down, rebuild her walls before they crumbled completely.
Instead, she pulled him closer and whispered, "Okay."
They spent the rest of the day in her apartment painting, photographing, making love, talking about everything and nothing. Maya showed him her mother's paintings, and Ethan understood them in a way that made her throat tight. They ordered takeout they ate in bed, surrounded by art and possibility.
As evening fell and shadows lengthened across her walls, Maya realized with dawning horror that she wasn't just falling.
She'd already fallen.
For a man who was leaving in six weeks.
For a man who lived out of a suitcase.
For a man who would inevitably, eventually, leave her alone again.
"What are you thinking?" Ethan asked, pulling her closer.
"That this is the stupidest thing I've ever done."
"Agreed. What else?"
"That I don't want you to leave." The admission was whispered, terrified. "Not tonight. Not in six weeks. Not ever."
Ethan went very still. "Maya"
"I know. I know it's too fast, too much. I know you have a life and a job and I'm not asking you to change any of that. I just" Her voice broke. "I just needed you to know."
He kissed her then, deep and desperate, tasting like promise and heartbreak all mixed together.
"What if I stayed?" he whispered against her lips. "What if I canceled Thailand, found local work, tried this for real?"
"I can't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking. I'm offering."
Maya's heart soared and crashed simultaneously. "You'd resent me. Eventually, you'd feel trapped, and you'd leave anyway, and it would hurt worse because I'd have let myself believe"
"Believe what?"
"That someone could choose me. That someone could stay."
Ethan pulled back, cupped her face in his hands. "Maya. I'm choosing you right now. I'm staying right now. Can that be enough?"