She did not tell Dean initially.
Not because she wanted surprise.
Because she wanted to be certain the move was hers.
That distinction mattered.
When she finally told him, they were cooking dinner in his kitchen.
Dean stopped chopping onions.
"You're moving?"
"Part time."
"Because of me?"
"Partly."
His face tightened.
Clare raised one finger.
"Do not."
"What?"
"Turn this into London."
He set knife down.
"I'm not."
"You are thinking it."
She stepped closer.
"I have a Vermont client base now."
"I can manage Boston two days a week."
"I want more time here."
"I want more time with you."
"I want more time with Evan."
"Those are not sacrifices I will secretly resent."
Dean watched.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
He nodded slowly.
Clare smiled.
"That's all?"
"What do you want?"
"I don't know."
"Champagne."
He laughed.
Then pulled her closer.
"You scare me."
"Why?"
"Because this is real."
Clare touched his face.
"Good."
They kissed.
Evan walked into kitchen.
"Again?"
Dean broke away.
"You live upstairs."
"So do you."
"Go."
Evan opened refrigerator.
"I'm hungry."
Clare whispered:
"He times this."
Dean nodded.
"Absolutely."
Their life continued.
Interruptions included.
The biggest test came the following winter.
Dean was offered a partnership in a repair operation in Albany.
Better money.
Permanent facility.
Health benefits.
Opportunity to grow.
He nearly accepted without telling Clare.
Old habit.
Solve first.
Discuss after.
Then he remembered everything they had learned badly.
So he called.
Clare drove up.
They sat at kitchen table.
Dean laid contract down.
She read.
"This is good."
"Yes."
"Do you want it?"
"I don't know."
"What are you afraid of?"
"Moving Evan."
"He could stay in school if you commute."
"Three hours."
"You'd hate it."
"Yes."
Clare studied him.
"What do you actually want?"
Dean stared at the contract.
"To rebuild my own shop."
She waited.
"In Vermont?"
"Yes."
"Why not?"
"Money."
She said nothing.
He looked up.
"No."
"I didn't say anything."
"You thought billionaire thoughts."
"I'm not a billionaire."
"Close enough."
Clare smiled.
Then serious.
"What would you need?"
"Not your money."
"I know."
"Then?"
"A plan."
Clare's eyes lit.
Dean immediately regretted wording.
"Oh no."
"You asked the urban-development woman for a plan."
"I asked my girlfriend."
"Same woman."
She took a notebook.
Four hours later, they had numbers.
Lease options.
Equipment financing.
Workload projections.
Dean hated half.
Loved the rest.
He opened Sullivan Motor Works eight months later.