Capturing You

Chapter 31: Rainbow

A/N: So sorry for the delay in posting chapters, everyone! The fiancé and I got COVID around Easter and we're still recovering. Thank you for being so patient, as always, as real life shoves itself in the way of us gushing over Joe and Avery. <3

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I hid my face in my hands, dropping my elbows to my lap. There was no way I could look at him. "I'm so unbelievably sorry, Joe."

I felt his hand on my back. "Avery."

"I got an email a few days ago and I should have said something sooner, but I was just scared about what you would say, and now I waited too long, and," my words were muffled by my sleeves. I slowly peered up from behind the shelter of my hands and watched for his reaction. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep it a secret from you."

A century must have passed before Joe said another word, and I held my breath.

"I think you should go," he told me.

I furrowed my brows at him. "What?"

"I said, I think you should go."

I didn't mean for him to repeat himself; I asked him because I couldn't comprehend what he'd just said to me. We had just finished discussing moving in together, and I just had to drop this atomic bomb on him. I was beginning to feel like I messed it all up — like it was foolish for me to have said something about a silly little photography fellowship when the stars were finally perfectly aligned for me.

"Well, I don't want to go," I said matter-of-factly.

"Too bad, you're going." It felt like an exchange between a father and daughter.

I huffed. "Joe, it would be crazy. I mean, everything I have is here in America. I can't just up and move to Paris for three months like that. Besides, I already have a job."

He shook his head. "You can't say it's crazy. You don't even know what it's all about."

I suddenly felt petulant, like I had to convince him that I needed to stay in Cincinnati. "And I don't need to. Everything is so great here. I love what I do. There's — the opportunity, the idea of it is nice. But it's just not something feasible for me."

Joe seemed to view this as an excuse, and it visibly frustrated him. "What's stopping you? How come it's not feasible?"

We were fully turned into each other now on the couch, and I had enough guts to look at him while I protested. That, I had the strength to do. "Nothing's stopping me, I just don't want to go."

"Why don't you want to go?"

"Because I—" I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. "I want to be here."

"Well," he said, unsatisfied by that, "I don't think we should move in together anymore."

I knitted my brows at him, hurt. "What? Why?"

"I think you should just try to interview for the fellowship," he said, hellbent on not answering my questions. "You said it yourself — it's just an opportunity. There's no harm in trying. And knowing you... well, you'll get it. And there's nothing bad about that, and nothing should be in the way of you going for that."

"I told you I didn't want to go," I argued. I could sense he was pushing me away, and I wouldn't stand for it. "Joe, I want to be here with you."

Silence hung heavy in the air between us as we calculated our next words. I stood firmly on my decision that I wouldn't even entertain the idea of moving to Paris. Before I made my confession, I was still on a see-saw weighing the pros and cons of taking the fellowship — now, I knew what I wanted.