Author's Note: I hear and respect each of you who didn't like Piper in the last chapter. Fair warning: you're not going to love her in the first part of this chapter either. She's young, selfish, and doesn't always think before she acts. However, as on the show and in this story, she finds a way to redeem herself. (Shout out to my beta, IrishViking20, who turned this chapter around quickly.) Oh, and this is not the final chapter-at least two more plus an Epilogue. Please enjoy.


The next day I begrudgingly apply for a job at the coffee shop down the street as well as the one in the UCSD bookstore. Two days later, I have an interview at both places and get offered a part-time job at both. Since the pay at the bookstore is a smidge higher and the hours are 8:30 to 1:30, I choose that one. Piper is elated, but I don't share her exuberance, at least not inwardly. It's hard to fathom this is what I've resorted to. I feel like a struggling 18-years-old again, working 20 hours per week to earn a few bucks. Despite being a realist, I never thought it would come to this. Surely, I thought, a therapist job would pop up if not in San Diego proper, then somewhere in Southern California that would allow us to continue living together.

Speaking of living together, as hard as I've tried, I don't like living in a dorm room, especially because I'm not supposed to be here. I keep asking myself why I'm having trouble breaking the rules when I did that for a fucking living for five years of my life. I think it's because I don't belong—I'm old enough to be these kids' professor and I'm not a student myself. If I stay in San Diego, we're going to have to discuss moving off campus.

While I spend my days working the cash register and listening to my undergrad co-workers complain about the lack of hot boys on campus or how they don't have enough time to sunbathe, Piper is living her best life. She's soaking up knowledge about psychology and mental health and can't wait to share what she's learned with me every day. I'm happy for her; I really am, but I'm not happy about my day-to-day, unfulfilling life.

Another two weeks go by and I'm forced to officially take a leave of absence from my company, which means I'm not getting paid, but I'm still technically employed. The closest placement my company has for me is in Flagstaff, which is a seven-hour drive from San Diego. I hate feeling like this—desperate, bored and annoyed. I made the mistake of taking my frustrations out on Piper the night I decided to drink straight tequila, and it was a mistake. It's not her fault I can't find a job in my field. I knew this would be the sticky point, but I didn't think it would be this bad.

One day while Piper is in class, I call my old friend.

"You move to California and forget about us low-lifes in Connecticut?" Nicky answers.

She has always been able to make me smile.

"How's it going, Vause?"

"I wish I could say it was awesome," I start. "But it's not."

"You're living in one of the most beautiful areas of the country with your hot girlfriend, I might add, and complaining?" she asks rhetorically.

"I'm not complaining about San Diego or how things are going with Piper," I reply. "I just miss working in my profession."

"No luck with a placement down there?"

"No," I sigh. "I got a part-time job in the campus bookstore. That's what I've resorted to."

"Seriously?"

"Technically I'm still employed by my company on a leave of absence," I respond. "But I'm not on the payroll."

"You need money?"

"It's not that." I scratch my head. "Piper's busy with grad school, and I'm working with 19-year-old kids behind a cash register for half the day. The other half, I'm bored out of my fucking head."

"Do you feel like you have to stay in San Diego?"

I glance out the window at the parking lot below. "Kind of."

"Have you and blondie talked about that?"

"We talk about it all the time." I run my fingers through my hair. "Am I being selfish for thinking about taking a placement out of state?"

"I don't know if I'd call you selfish." I picture her shrugging. "But you're doing everything you can to stay with the woman you love."

That's what I've been grappling with. Selfish is never a word I would've used to describe myself, and if I leave even temporarily, that's what I'd be. Piper is right—my moving wherever she went to grad school was always the plan; trouble is, we didn't figure out anything beyond that part.

"I've worked in fast food restaurants, bagged groceries, dog walked, and even did a stint in the janitorial department at a school," I begin. "Earning minimum wage isn't the problem. I've spent a lot of fucking money and time getting to a point in my life where I have a career that I love. I shouldn't have to work at a dead-end, low-paying job just because I want to live with my girlfriend."

"You shouldn't have to, Vause, but that's what you chose," Nicky responds. "If your career is important, maybe you can ask your company to give you a short-term placement, and then something might open up in San Diego that you could jump on."

"Yeah." I sit on the sofa and glance at the clock. Piper should be home any minute. "I'm sorry this was all about me. I'll call tomorrow to hear more about your life."

"Nothing to tell," she replies. "I'm single yet again, but I do have a date with an Egyptian woman this weekend that sounds promising."

"Egyptian, huh?" I smile. "Good luck."

I hang up and stare at the wall, not feeling any closer to making a decision than I was before talking with Nicky.

Ten minutes later Piper breezes in. "Hi!"

"Hey." I twist my neck to look at her. "How was your day?"

"Good." She sets her bag on the stool. "I helped this boy with an English paper in the writing lab today, and he couldn't even conjugate verbs."

"How'd he get into college?"

"Great question." She raises her shoulders. "What did you do today?"

"Worked at the bookstore, finished the latest Malcolm Gladwell book, went for a walk, and then stopped at the grocery store to get stuff for dinner. Oh, and I just got off the phone with Nicky."

She kisses me before sitting down. "How's she doing?"

"We didn't talk much about her," I begin. "I thought maybe she'd have some advice."

She creases her forehead. "Advice about what?"

"There are zero clinical jobs open in San Diego," I reply. "I need to make a decision by Friday if I'm going to take the Flagstaff placement."

"Why so soon?"

"Soon?" I laugh incredulously. "They've held off on placing another therapist there for a week so I could have first dibs. I can't make them wait any longer."

"Do you want it?"

I get to my feet. "I don't want to leave you but working in an alcohol abuse clinic sounds awesome right about now."

She shrugs. "Then do it."

"Don't say that just to avoid an argument." I turn to face her. "You wouldn't be upset if I took the job in Arizona?"

"Yes, I'd be upset, but I'm tired of fighting about this." Piper folds her arms. "It's clear that you want to go back to working as a therapist, and there's nothing available here. Go. Do another temporary thing, and we'll see where that leaves us."

I side-eye her. "We'll see where that leaves us?"

"I'm tired of living hundreds of miles away from each other." She lifts her shoulders. "I thought this was finally it for us—we'd make a life together in San Diego."

I challenge her. "Are you saying that if I take this job in Flagstaff, we're not going to end up together?"

"I don't know."

I stick my hands on my hips. "Are you being your overly dramatic self or are you being serious?"

"I'm not overly dramatic," she defends.

I lower my head so she can't see me roll my eyes.

"I don't want to go back to being in a long-distance relationship," she says. "I'm not saying I want to date other people or anything—that's the furthest thing from my mind. I love you, Alex, but I'm done with the living apart thing."

I don't feel like she's issuing an ultimatum, but I never thought she'd stand her ground so firmly.

"If you stay here, you're going to end up resenting me," she continues. "One of us is going to get the raw end of the deal; it might as well be me."

"You don't think I'm getting the raw end of the deal?"

"How would you be getting it?" she asks.

"You think I want to leave you?" I begin in a heated tone. "I have to relocate to stay relevant in my job and to earn a decent paycheck! I'm being practical."

"You could stay and try to get more hours at the bookstore until something opens up in a hospital or a clinic here," Piper states.

I spread my arms open wide. "Nothing has opened here since I began looking in fucking March!"

"I'm just saying if you leave, it puts us in an awkward position."

I lift my eyebrows. "Because you'd break up with me?"

"I wouldn't break up with you…" She stares at the ground. "Maybe we just need some time to focus on our careers."

I tighten my jaw, disbelieving where this conversation has landed us. "Maybe."

"I don't want you to be miserable if you stay here," she says in a softer tone.

"Nothing makes me happier than being with you." I walk up to her, placing my hands on her arms. "But I miss my job. I need to work, Piper. I miss helping people. I miss the independence and routine of going to a clinic every day. I miss feeling like a productive member of society."

She wraps her fingers around my wrists. "I love coming home to you every night and talking to you in person rather than on the phone."

"I love that, too." I kiss her forehead. "It just sucks right now."

She nods.

"I won't stop looking for jobs here," I say. "And as soon as one pops up, I'll apply for it."

"I know."

"I hate the thought of leaving you but taking this job in Flagstaff is the responsible and practical thing to do."

She wraps her arms around me and sighs.

We make love that night without saying a word, and I know it'll be the last time for a while I'll get to hold Piper like this. It makes me sad enough to cry, but as soon as that feeling of grief washes over me, I hurry to the bathroom so she doesn't see me.


The clinic in Flagstaff was forced to operate for one week without a temporary therapist, so they're grateful when I arrive for a six-week stint. Leaving Piper has never been easy, but this was probably the hardest it has ever been. I know she loves me, and my move doesn't change that, but I don't know what my relocation is going to do to us. I have no intention of dating anyone else, and while I know Piper feels the same, she's upset enough to call this 'a break'. I go through phases of thinking she's being petulant to phases of thinking she should stand her ground—after all, I've said for the better part of a year that I wanted to be wherever she was. My job situation has always been the hang up, and neither of us could've predicted what it would do to our relationship. No matter how you slice it, we both would've 'lost' if I stayed in San Diego—I would've resented Piper for guilting me into staying and she would've felt like shit because of it. No one wins here.

The only good to have come out of my move is that I realize how much I've missed being a therapist. I get to help people and solve problems every day. My work is stimulating and complicated and demanding, and I love it. What I don't love is the nagging feeling that I put my career over my love of Piper. I go home every night feeling guilty and sad.

Piper and I agreed that she could reach out when she wanted, but I wasn't going to be the first to do so unless it was an emergency. She's the one who suggested we take a break, and while I hate the idea, I'm not going to force her to stay with me out of some misplaced obligation. We don't talk for six days, and each day that passes makes me miss her more. On the seventh day, my phone chimes, indicating a FaceTime call.

It's her.

"Hi," I say, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

Her face is all blotchy and it looks like she's been crying.

I immediately get to my feet, wishing I could teleport to San Diego to be with her. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you so much." She breaks into tears. "I hate this, Alex."

My heart sinks as I watch her cry. "I miss you, too, babe."

She wipes her cheeks with her shirtsleeve. "This is the last thing I wanted."

I give her a small smile. "It's ok to be sad."

Piper sniffs. "I've been miserable this last week. I've wanted to call you like 20 times a day."

"Why didn't you?"

The tears haven't stopped falling. "Because we're supposed to be on a break."

"To be honest, I don't even know what that means," again, I try for a slight bit of levity. "Are we re-enacting Ross and Rachel's storyline from Friends?"

That garners me a tiny laugh, but then she turns serious again. "It means we're supposed to focus on our careers. I wanted to dive into schoolwork and not worry about coming home too late after you've been bored out of your mind all day." She sniffs again.

I wrinkle my brows. "Were you worried about not studying enough when I lived there?"

She nods as a fresh set of tears rolls down her cheek.

"You're in San Diego to get a master's degree, Piper," I reply. "Nothing should get in the way of that, including me."

"All I wanted to do was spend time with you," she admits. "I studied enough to get by."

"Are you studying more now that I'm gone?"

She grabs a Kleenex. "Yeah, but it comes at the cost of not seeing you every day."

"It sucks," I begin. "But you're doing what you need to do not only to get a good grade, but also to learn what it takes to be a professional therapist. I won't be a distraction that takes you away from your end goal."

She blows her nose. "I just never thought it would come to this—you moving to another state after only having lived with me for less than two months."

"We're doing what we have to do for the time being," I try. "I wish we could have it both ways, but we can't."

Although she's still crying, the tears have slowed to a trickle.

"I could fly down there next weekend if you want."

She nods, dotting her eyes with the tissue. "I'd like that."

"I'll look at plane tickets," I offer. "Tell me what you've learned this week."

I successfully get us off the topic of how badly we miss each other and am rewarded with Piper eventually cheering up as she tells me about her classes.

I go to sleep that night with a partially heavy heart for not being able to be with Piper right now, but there's a part of me that's joyful, knowing that our temporary separation is actually good for both of us and our careers.


Over the next six weeks, Piper and I see each other three times—I fly to San Diego twice and she comes to Flagstaff for a long weekend. Our 'break' lasted a week, and we're once again fully committed to making this work even if that means I take job placements far away.

After Flagstaff, I get a three-month placement in Bakersfield, which is only a four-hour drive or six hour train ride from San Diego. That allows us to see each other pretty much every weekend. Although I was hoping to spend a few days with Nicky in Darien for Christmas, Piper is still not talking to her parents and would prefer not to return home. It's a sore subject, so I don't mention it often. We make the most of the holidays in San Diego, though while Piper is on a month-long winter break, I still have to work, so she spends a week with me in Bakersfield.

We made a pact that we'd only talk about clinical jobs for me in San Diego once a week. I don't want to dwell on the fact that psychologist jobs don't seem to exist along the California coast, so it's best if we focus on the present. Piper still loves her classes and hopes that her second semester courses are equally appealing.

As my time in Bakersfield comes to an end in early January, Piper and I find ourselves in a discussion that I never thought would surface.

She dips a tea bag in and out of her mug. "What if San Diego isn't where we're meant to be?"

"What do you mean?"

"There apparently aren't any job openings for therapists, and I can get my graduate degree almost anywhere."

I crease my brows. "What are you saying?"

She takes a sip. "A while ago, you said you were ready to settle down instead of moving all over the country. Is that still true?"

"Yes." I nod, hand still wrapped around my glass that I meant to bring to my mouth a minute ago.

"What if you started looking for a permanent job somewhere else?"

"Seriously?"

It's her turn to nod. "I got an e-mail from U Mass, Amherst a few days ago about openings for transfer students, and it got me thinking." She pauses. "I like living in warm weather and having access to the beach, but it's meaningless if you're not there with me."

I'm shocked at Piper's admission; I never thought she'd get to this place.

I finally remove my hand from the cold glass and place it on the table. "You'd transfer?"

"My heart isn't set on U Mass," she replies. "But I poked around on some other schools' transfer websites, and applications are due in like two weeks for the next academic year." She reaches for my hand. "I want to be with you, Alex. If that means moving to the coldest, most remote place on earth, I'll do it if it means seeing you every day."

I bring her hand to my lips, kissing the back of it. "That means a lot."

She squeezes my hand, then gets to her feet. "Where would you want to live?"

We move to the living room, leaving our dirty breakfast plates on the table.

"I think you know my answer." I sit on the sofa.

"Let me guess." She joins me. "Darien?"

"I never thought I'd miss that fucking suburb so much."

She laces her hand through my hair. "And Nicky?"

"Yeah her, too." I've always missed Nicky—Piper knows that'll never change unless I'm back in Connecticut.

"U Conn has a campus in Stamford," she notes. "They have a master's program in psychology."

I grin. "Did you look that up, or do you know it from memory?"

She leans forward and places a light kiss on my cheek. "I might've done a little research."

"Would you want to move back home?"

"I don't like how strained things are between me and my parents right now." Piper bends her elbow and props it on the back of the sofa, resting her head in her hand. "But I don't think it'll get any better if I live across the country."

I take her other hand in my lap, allowing her to continue.

"Maybe they need to see us together more often, and then they'll come around to accepting you in my life," she muses.

"Maybe," I offer without further explanation. I have no idea if Bill and Carol will ever accept our relationship nor do I know if living closer will help or harm us, but I sure as hell am not making a decision about where to live based on their judgement.

"There's still the issue of you getting a permanent job."

I rub my thumb over the back of her hand. "I've had an open invitation to work at the Peterman Clinic since the day I left."

"The place where you and I met?"

"Yeah," I chuckle. "That's kind of an odd way of explaining how we met."

She smiles. "It's the truth."

I return the smile, kissing her on the mouth even though my teeth are exposed. "It is."

"Do you want to reach out to them to see if the offer still stands albeit four and a half years later?"

"I could do that." I kiss her again, and she angles her head, placing a hand on my shoulder.

This is where the conversation ends as we both seem to crave a physical connection. Although I'd prefer to move to the bed, Piper's impatience convinces me that fucking on the sofa is what's in store for us right now. As she gets on her knees and tugs at my jeans; I think the bed can wait.


As expected, Dr. Peterman is happy to offer me a full-time psychologist position at his clinic. He mentioned that both he and Dr. Eckstein, my former supervisor, are getting close to retirement and hoping to cut back their hours, so my timing couldn't be better. I relay this information to Piper on one of our nightly calls, and she seems as happy as I am with the news.

Since the beginning of our relationship, I've put Piper first. I never thought I'd find myself in a position to choose between her and my career, but that's squarely where I landed in the fall. Taking that position in Flagstaff was a risk that didn't initially sit well with me. I lived in agony for the week we were on a break—it was the first time Piper chose something over me, and that hit hard.

When we first kissed in Dana Point, I urged her to consider dating other people, but she steadfastly refused. I wanted to ensure she would enter this relationship having experienced everything a 20-something year old should experience. I couldn't live with myself if I'd held her back. She chose me—only me.

When we were faced with the dilemma of me staying or leaving San Diego, Piper could've quit school to be with me. I never expected or wanted that, but she did have a choice. Or, she could've encouraged me to continue working with my company while she was still at UCSD. When I told her I was going to take the Flagstaff job, she could've been supportive; instead she decided we should go on a break. In essence, she chose her schooling over me just as I chose my career over her.

I didn't know if we'd get past that point in our lives, but somehow we've managed. Now, I'm convinced that moving to Arizona was the right thing for me at the time, and Piper has come to realize the same. It allowed me to continue working in a job I love, and it allowed her to dig deeper into her studies. I'm sure there will be other hurdles to jump over as life goes on, but we crossed one pretty major one already. If we end up moving back to Darien, at least we can face the hurdles together.