A/N: Last chapter, friends! Yes, you read that correctly. I actually completed a fic. Thanks for sticking with me. It means a lot. :)

My mother drives me home, sending me off with a plate full of cannoli and the cliché line that things have a way of working out in the end. I gladly accept the cannoli, and I take the advice without so much as an eye roll, because as far as moms go, she's been pretty great today.

My apartment is cluttered; cleaning has very recently been far from my mind. There are bits of Maura scattered everywhere – a 'property of Boston Police Department' shirt I got her when I first got instated draped off the edge of the bed, a microbiology book (left open and very much forgotten) on my coffee table, a pair of small black socks poking out from beneath the sofa.

I unbutton my shirt and kick off my boots, searching for my Red Sox jersey. I spot it after a moment, tossed in the corner of the room by my bed. I lift it up, brushing a few Oreo crumbs away, only to find my tattered copy of The Trumpet of the Swan nestled beneath. My heart aches, flushed with unwanted emotion as I dust off the faded cover. I look at it for too long, not entirely sure what I'm hoping to accomplish. I don't like this, how vulnerable I feel, how unsure today has left me.

Balancing my book and the plate of cannoli, I climb up to the roof. I love it up here; the air clears my head. I manage to fit some more cannoli in my dessert-stuffed stomach, paging aimlessly through the flimsy pages of my childhood story.

"Hey." She doesn't startle me, not really, as she hoists herself up the final step not long after I have settled. "I figured you would be here." And then helpfully adds, "You left your door unlocked."

"Hey yourself," I manage a smile, my mouth twitching at the corners. My insides flop, hardly matching my expression.

Maura sits beside me, tucking her knees to her chest. She has changed from the silky blue dress into jeans and fitted tee, though she has kept her hair swept elegantly back, shining with tiny flecks of gold in the glow of the evening sun. She is beautiful, and she looks at me with wide, imploring eyes that make me want to make everything right again. "You still have that book."

"'Course I do. It's always been my favorite." I rub my thumb against the pages, letting them sift softly against my skin.

"I know," she says softly. She says nothing more, looking nervous as she glances down at her feet, hugging her knees more tightly. She has a lot to say, I can tell, and I'm not exactly sure what's keeping her from saying it. It's unsettling, the way we left things in the coat room today. I don't like not knowing where we stand.

I inhale a hefty breath, and the words spill out quite suddenly to fill the silence, "So I told my mom I was gay today."

She looks up suddenly. "Apparently you told my mother as well."

I wince. "Sorry. I've had a...tactless day." That's a light way of putting it. "It wasn't my place. Yell at me. I deserve it."

"I don't want to yell at you," her voice is still soft, still unreadable. I'm desperate for her to articulate, for her to give me more to work with. "I was angry at you earlier, but it's faded rather quickly."

"I'm sorry," I try again, attempting desperately to figure out what she needs from me in this moment.

She's looking at her feet again. "Why didn't you tell me about BCU?"

I swallow quickly, my heart jumping violently in my chest. It wasn't what I was expecting. "I didn't mean for you to find out this way."

"You didn't mean for me to find out at all." There's a small flash of anger, but mostly she's just wounded.

"I didn't want you to find out, because it wouldn't have mattered," I insist. "Maura, listen to me. Maybe it was wrong of me not to tell you, but it doesn't change anything. I'd still be right where I am...and so would you. Telling you wouldn't have made a difference."

"I just..." she lets out a heavy breath. "I understand why you did it, but that doesn't make me like how long you've kept it from me. I feel as though there is so much you've been keeping from me. My mother meant well in telling me about what you said today - she simply cares for me, and you as well, and she approached the whole conversation in a tactful manner. However, it made me realize that you've been bottling up your feelings for entirely too long. I know that spending time away from each other has never been the easy decision, but I never took into consideration just how much more difficult it has always been for you - to be the one left waiting." She reaches to touch my hand, gently. I know she isn't mad, and it fills me with relief. "I pick you this time, Jane. I'm choosing you."

It takes me a minute to process her words. "No. Pick the school you want. We'll make it work. We always do. I should've never complained - I want to see you do great things."

"No, you don't understand. This is what I want," she stops me with sudden firmness.

I look at her, tugging my lips into a thin line. "I can't stand the thought of you pitying me."

She comes up beside me, kissing me without warning, fast and possessive. "Please don't undermine my decision," she whispers fiercely against the edge of my jaw. "This is what I want - I want it for me. I want it for both of us. "

My words catch in my throat, and I end up searching for her lips again. "I just want you to be happy."

"Don't you understand?" She manages between kisses. "You make me happy. Medical school is going to be a demanding and difficult time in my life, and I want to be by the person I know will stand by me. You're the one who will keep me afloat - your sense of humor, your unwavering faith in me, your kisses, your mother's cannoli..."

I tug her closer to me, kissing her temple. "You want some now?" I pull the plate into my lap.

"Yes, please," she smiles, looking shy for a small moment as she swallows the treat. "You know I love you, right?"

"I love you, too. More and more every single day," I promise in return, bringing my thumb to her mouth and brushing away a stray crumb. She breaths a small sigh into my shoulder, and I hold her without fearing the moment I'll have to let go.