She ignored Sienna's calls for three hours. Ignored Ethan's texts. Ignored Dr. Chen's reminder about her next appointment. She sat on her living room floor surrounded by her mother's paintings and let herself drown in the grief and fear she'd been holding back.
Finally, her phone rang with a FaceTime from Sienna. Maya answered.
"Oh, babe," Sienna said, taking one look at Maya's face. "What happened?"
Maya told her everything. The extended assignment. Melissa's offer. Ethan's "I'm falling in love with you." Her own self-sabotage.
"So let me get this straight," Sienna said when Maya finished. "This man you're falling for just told you he's falling for you too. He's willing to turn down his dream job to stay with you. And you… pushed him away?"
"I gave him space to make a real decision."
"You gave him an excuse to leave so you could be right about everyone leaving." Sienna's voice was sharp. "Maya, I love you. But you're being an idiot."
"Thanks. That's helpful."
"You want helpful? Stop protecting yourself from pain by guaranteeing it. Stop running from the thing you want because you're scared of losing it." Sienna leaned closer to the camera. "Your mom didn't die because you loved her. She died because brains are fragile and life is unfair. But she lived big and loved hard and made beautiful things. Honor that. Be that."
"I don't know how."
"Yes, you do. You call Ethan back. You tell him you're terrified but you want to try. You stop writing the ending before you've lived the story."
"And if he chooses Thailand anyway?"
"Then at least you were brave enough to want him. At least you didn't run." Sienna's voice softened. "Either way hurts, babe. But one way you're hurt and alone. The other way you're hurt but you tried. Which can you live with?"
After they hung up, Maya sat in the growing darkness, thinking about Dr. Chen's homework. Imagine the best possible outcome.
Best possible: Ethan turned down Thailand. They dated properly. Slowly. Built something real instead of fast and desperate. He proved he could stay. She proved she could trust. They figured out how to be terrified together until the terror faded into something like peace.
Or: Ethan took Thailand. They did long-distance. It was hard but they made it work. He came back and she was still there. They proved that love didn't require constant proximity.
Or: Ethan took Thailand. They didn't survive the distance. She was heartbroken but she'd tried. She'd been brave. She'd honored her mother's memory by risking her heart.
All of them hurt.
All of them were better than this sitting alone, having pushed away the first person in two years who made her feel alive.
Maya picked up her phone.
She texted Ethan at 11 p.m.: Can you come over?
The response was immediate: On my way.
He arrived twenty minutes later, and Maya pulled him inside before she could lose her nerve.
"I'm sorry," she said. "For pushing you away. For being a coward. For"
Ethan kissed her, cutting off her apology. When they broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers.
"I called Melissa," he said. "Told her I'm passing on Thailand. Told her we're not reconnecting. Told her to find another photographer."
Maya's heart stopped. "Ethan, no"
"Yes." He cupped her face. "I've spent twelve years running. Twelve years choosing the safe option that meant I never had to risk anything real. And I'm done."
"But it's four months. It's streaming. It's"
"It's not you." His thumbs brushed away her tears. "I don't care if we've known each other two weeks or two years. I don't care if this is fast or insane or destined to fail. I care that when I think about my future, you're in it. And Thailand without you isn't better than here with you."
"You're going to resent me."
"I'm going to resent myself if I choose the same pattern I've chosen for twelve years and lose you because of it." He kissed her softly. "I'm choosing to stay, Maya. I'm choosing you. Not because you asked you didn't. Not because I have to I don't. But because I want to. Because you're worth staying for."
"I'm terrified," Maya whispered.
"Me too. Want to be terrified together?"
She laughed through her tears. "That line is terrible."
"But effective." He smiled. "Say yes. Give me a chance to prove I can stay. Six months no travel, just local work, building a life here. With you. If at the end of six months you think I'm miserable or resentful or regretting this choice, I'll go. But give me a chance."
Maya thought about her mother. About Dr. Chen. About Sienna. About all the people telling her to be brave.
She thought about the painting by the river movement with direction. Not stillness, but peace. Not fearlessness, but courage.
"Okay," she whispered. "Six months."
"Really?"
"Really. But Ethan? I'm going to panic. I'm going to spiral. I'm going to need constant reassurance that you're not going anywhere."
"I know. And I'm going to get restless. I'm going to miss travel. I'm going to struggle with staying still." He pulled her closer. "But we'll figure it out. Together."
They moved to her bedroom, shedding clothes and walls in equal measure. When they made love, it was slow and deliberate and felt like a promise neither of them was quite sure they could keep.
Afterward, lying tangled together, Ethan whispered, "I love you."
Maya's breath caught. "You said that earlier. When you were arguing."
"I meant it then too. I love you, Maya Chen. I love your art and your damage and the way you fight for other people but won't fight for yourself. I love that you're terrified but trying anyway."
"I love you too," Maya heard herself say. The words felt like jumping off a cliff. "And it scares the hell out of me."
"Good. That means it matters."
They fell asleep wrapped around each other, and for the first time in two years, Maya didn't dream about loss.
She dreamed about possibility.
Maya woke to her phone buzzing. A text from Dr. Chen: Proud of you. See you next week.
Then Sienna: Did you call him???
Then her father: Lunch this week? You sound happy on the phone lately. I want to hear about it.
Maya looked at Ethan, still asleep beside her, one arm thrown over her waist. She'd done it. She'd chosen risk over safety. Love over fear.
Now she just had to survive it.
But maybe just maybe survival wasn't the goal anymore.
Maybe living was.