“Yes.”
His eyes dropped.
“And don’t ask me to move yet.”
“Chelsea.”
“I’m not refusing Oregon. I’m refusing to be carried into it.”
***
Days later, he asked if I’d visit Oregon with him.
I said no.
“I’m refusing to be carried into it.”
Then I changed my mind, for me, not him.
“I’ll go,” I said. “But I’m going to decide what this move would cost us, not just what it could fix.”
***
Oregon annoyed me because I didn’t hate it.
I wanted Oregon to confirm every reason I had for saying no.
Instead, I liked the neighborhoods, the parks, even the bakery near our hotel.
Then I changed my mind.
And that scared me more than I expected.
Because if I liked it too, then Oregon wasn’t the problem.
The way Ben had chosen it without me was.
Ben caught me watching families cross the street with strollers and soccer bags.
“You like it.”
“I like that people seem to walk places.”
“That’s progress.”
“You like it.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
***
