Everyone warned them long distance would be hard. But it didn't feel that difficult. Not usually, at least. There were only 9 hours separating the two of them most of the time, so they'd call in the early morning and the late evening every day, updating the other one on how their day went. It was just like they were in person. And Carmen had never been huge on the whole physical stuff anyway. This was the perfect relationship for him - all the talking he needed to do, without the cling.

At least, that's what he'd thought.

Not anymore.

They'd met each other at Noma. Working on the same stovetop as someone else was something the whole class had groaned and moaned about, but Carmen had secretly been really happy he'd been paired up with a pretty girl. And he was lucky that she felt the same way about him. It was just a real shame they'd only barely started the relationship when they'd went their separate ways.

They visited on occasion. She'd spend a day or two in Chicago, then him an equal amount in Paris. It was great, really. The distance only made him cherish the time they had together even more.

But this visit was longer than the others had been. A week and a half, instead of just a couple days. A week and a half in her orbit, watching her work at the restaurant of her dreams, dancing with her in her kitchen into the early hours of the morning, experiencing the world through her eyes. Life was better when she was right there with him, he realised, and he almost never wanted to go back to Chicago. He never wanted to leave her side.

But how could he tell her that? She'd built a life here, she had a reputation, serious contacts, a bright future ahead of her if she stayed in Paris. It's not like he could leave Chicago. He had a whole restaurant depending on him. But now that he knew what he knew, he couldn't go back to long distance. His brain wasn't going to allow for that. So he just had to wait for the perfect moment to spring it, and then hope and pray the right words came out.

He didn't wait for the perfect moment. Maybe there was no perfect moment, and he shouldn't have asked at all, but it was obvious that this was not the perfect moment. He'd planned a whole dinner, white tablecloth and candles lit for when she got back from work. But when she opened the door and took off her shoes, he could already tell she was agitated from her job. Alright, so already not ideal.

At least she sat down. And picked at her food, and eventually ate it, and then started to talk about what was bothering her. When she'd opened up, and they sat in a now comfortable silence, he thought maybe then was a good moment for it. "Hey, uhm- peach, do you ever think about leaving Paris?" He asked tentatively, pushing some food around on his plate with his fork. She looked confused, so he just decided to plow on. Another bad idea.

"I mean, uh- I really want you to come back to Chicago. With me. I'd hate to not have you around. I love having you around, you know?" He rambled, his hand swiping over his face as he spoke. Somebody needed to shut him up. The moment wasn't perfect, and the right words weren't coming to him, and she was looking more and more pissed by the second.

"You want me to leave everything I've built here, to come back to Chicago with you?" She repeated back, slow, like he was stupid.

"But I want to be with you-"

"Carmen! Are you insane?" She jumped up from the table, which shook a little bit. He caught a candleholder so the cloth wouldn't ignite. "I can't uproot my life! I can't come back to Chicago with you to be a little house mouse!"

"That's not what I meant!" He argued, also standing up, trying to soothe her. But it was a little bit past that now.