Chapter 22
I
didn’t want to be here. At all.
The realization hit me so hard, it was a wonder I didn’t have a lump on my head. I leaned my back against the plaster wall and watched a bunch of people grind on each other, laughing, drinking beer and having a great time. It was Saturday, almost the last day of spring break, and everyone was partying it up.
To my far left was a gay couple wrapped around each other, giving sweet kisses and gentle murmurings. My heart squeezed in jealousy whenever I looked at them. God, I’d wanted to have that with Nick.
I stared at the mostly full beer cup in my hand. Beside me, Nadia was dishing on campus gossip—who was hooking up, who had cheated on whom and so on. I could barely pay any attention to her ramblings. She scanned the crowd with a hungry gleam in her eyes, obviously hoping to gather more news to talk about.
Nadia had been texting me the last day or two to ask if I’d come to this party, which was just off campus, giving me a heaping dose of guilt because I’d been ditching her lately. The guilt had worked. I’d been hesitant to go at first, because I knew my dad would be home alone this weekend. Mom had checked herself into the facility Thursday morning, giving us both big hugs and kisses and promising to keep us updated on her progress when she could.
My poor dad had kept it together until she’d gone inside. Then he’d collapsed in my arms and cried. I’d never seen him like that, so vulnerable, so filled with grief and relief at the same time.
We were both praying Mom would stick to it.
As crazy as it sounded, this thing with Mom had drawn us all closer together. The rest of Wednesday evening we’d spent a bunch of family time just talking about anything and everything. I had briefly mentioned that I’d broken it off with a guy I was seeing, not getting into specific details about Nick. They had expressed their sadness about it. We’d played board games, then watched movie marathons late into the evening. Anything to keep Mom distracted from her cravings.
Thankfully, the withdrawal symptoms hadn’t had time to really sink in before she’d checked herself in to the facility. I knew from research that they had medication she could take to wean off the narcotics addiction. I prayed it helped.
On Wednesday evening, he and Mom had also called and told their brothers and sisters about her problem—at her insistence, since she knew she’d been acting weird around them lately and wanted to apologize and make amends. Everyone had been so supportive. My uncle, in an effort to help distract my dad, had even invited him over tonight for steak and cards. So this afternoon Dad had basically ordered me to get out of the house and enjoy the last weekend of spring break.
I’d finally caved to Nadia’s texts, though I really hadn’t wanted to. But if we were all going to move forward with our lives, I needed to take those steps too.
That meant getting myself back out there. Not for dating— there was no way I was ready for that—but to reclaim my healthy social life. Step one of Operation Stop Being Such a Reclusive Hermit. A wild, crazy party had always drawn me out of my funk before. But it wasn’t working this time.
“—unbelievable,” Nadia was saying. She tossed a blond lock over her tanned shoulder. “And he didn’t even call me to make sure I got home okay. Totally rude.”
“Hm,” I murmured, and forced myself to pay more attention to her. My brain was screaming for me to get out of here, but I couldn’t. I’d roped Kelly into meeting me, and I couldn’t ditch before she arrived.
I could understand now why Casey hated these kinds of things, why she’d dragged her feet on coming to parties with me. There was no resonance in them. No way to really talk to someone and get to know the person. It was booze-fueled hooking up. That used to be just fine with me, but it wasn’t anymore.
A guy stumbled out of the kitchen and bumped into me, sloshing my beer on my shoes. I groaned and shook them off, the droplets flying everywhere.
“Oh, sorry about that, babe,” he said, his bleary eyes locking on mine. He gave me a wide, drunk smile. “Lemme get you another drink.” He was pretty cute, a Latino with broad shoulders and a trim body, but he wasn’t lighting my fire.
No one lit me like Nick did. I smothered a sigh at the thought and shoved him out of my head.
“I’m good, thanks,” I said politely. I didn’t really want the beer anyway, but I made myself drink some. Maybe more beer would help me stop thinking of him. I told Nadia I was going to wipe off my shoes, then went into the kitchen. There was a couple making out against the fridge. I grabbed a paper towel, wet it in the sink, then swiped it across my flats. When I went back to Nadia, she’d already had herself wrapped around the drunk guy, their tongues in each other’s throats.
Well, that was fast. I couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t waste any time making his move when I’d turned him down. It hadn’t even been five minutes.
I moved farther into the room, waving at people, keeping a polite smile on my face. Why couldn’t I find happiness in this anymore? I’d always known there wasn’t anything meaningful in these parties. They were nothing but fun. I flirted like it was my job, sometimes hooked up, got my drink on and danced my ass off.
But nothing about that sounded appealing to me right now.
Maybe this thing with Nick had changed me. And that wasn’t necessarily bad—it just was what it was. Maybe it was okay that parties like this weren’t my thing anymore. I still liked hanging out, but I could do it on a smaller scale with Kelly and Casey, without all the fakeness.
When Kelly came through the front door, I almost sagged in relief. I rushed to her side and gave her a big hug. “Thank God you’re here,” I yelled over the oppressive bass thunking through the house.
She eyed the crowd, her brow raised. “Pretty heated up tonight, aren’t they?” She didn’t sound enthused to be here either.
I looked around. Why was I staying? Because of obligation? To whom? I didn’t owe anyone anything. A little of my old backbone made me straighten. “Do you wanna stay?”
“Honestly?” She gave me a hesitant smile. “Eh, I will if you want to.”
I laughed. “That’s a good non-answer.”
“Sorry,” she said with a toothy grin. “I love going out, but I’m usually a homebody. I like smaller get-togethers.”
“I’m starting to understand why.” I paused. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Really?” Her face lit up. “What do you want to do?”
“Anything. I don’t even care.” I tossed my beer in a nearby garbage can, hooked my hand in the crook of her elbow and led her outside through the crowd. The cool night air pebbled my skin, and I sucked in my first breath of fresh air in an hour.
“I know a place where we can get great Indian food,” she offered. “Where are you parked? I’ll lead the way.”
“That sounds perfect. I’m over there.” I pointed down the street.
Kelly paused, and I saw the concern in her eyes as she looked at me. “Hey, you okay? You seem a bit . . . off. Not quite your usual bubbly self.”
I drew in a breath through my nose. Though we’d previously talked a little about my mom’s progress, I hadn’t told her about the breakup with Nick yet, for a few different reasons. I was pretty sure she hadn’t said anything to anyone; nothing in her body language gave evidence of guilt. But I needed to ask her, and this was a good time for it. “We can talk about it over food. Okay?”
She squeezed my hand. “Absolutely. Follow me, and I’ll see you there.”
The days slid by in torturously slow segments. Class, work, home. Class, work, home. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was
so
hard going to Nick’s class on Monday after spring break and every day thereafter for the next few weeks. But with Kelly at my side, I made it.
That night at the Indian restaurant, I’d talked to her about our breakup. The sadness and pain in her eyes for me were real, and she swore she hadn’t said anything to anyone. Each day in his class, she reached over and gave my hand a small squeeze before he came in. A gesture of comfort and support. She knew how much it hurt me to show up there every day with steel in my spine, pretending like my heart didn’t crumble apart each time I saw him.
I sat in the back as usual, took notes, never spoke up to answer his questions. I was a ghost in a chair, and he didn’t press me, didn’t reach out to me at all. I barely looked at him too, because when I did, it ached. Beyond any pain I’d felt. Deep and searing. And it wasn’t just my own personal hell that made me feel this way, but the emotion I saw in his eyes.
Nick looked like the light had been snuffed from his life. And it was killing me to see him this way. He was still as clean-cut and well styled as he ever had been, but that warmth wasn’t there. I wasn’t the only one to notice this. I heard a few students mumble around me about the change in Nick.
Was it because of the threat to his job?
Or was there any part of him that grieved us the way I did?
When our eyes connected, that soul-ripping sizzle ran through me, leaving a dull throb in its wake. Did he feel that too? Did he miss lying beside me in bed, our hands stroking each other’s bare skin, our mouths spilling secrets we could only share in the dark intimacy of his room?
I couldn’t have imagined how difficult this was going to be.
March slid into early April, and time kept moving forward, as it always did. The hole in my chest didn’t quite heal, but somehow I learned to live with it. Grew used to it, even. I hung out with Casey, Amanda and Kelly sometimes. Visited my dad regularly. Mom left the facility and was in intensive outpatient therapy. I could see the difference in her already; she was a lot more emotional than she’d ever been.
And I thought about Nick all the damn time. He haunted me. I could feel his phantom kisses on my brow sometimes when I was lying in bed, thinking of him. I wanted so badly to just go to his house and beg him to not give up on me, on us. But he’d made his choice, despite the misery I’d see flashing on his face sometimes.
You couldn’t make a man love you or want to be with you. A hard lesson, but one I’d now learned well. He might be unhappy, but he wasn’t doing anything to reach out to me. Though in all fairness, I wasn’t doing anything back. We didn’t speak, our exchanges limited to brief seconds of eye contact. The silence between us was deafening, a chasm neither of us could—or would—cross.
Finally, it seemed the spring thaw was hitting us. Monday morning, with only three weeks left to go in the semester before finals, I roused myself and went to cryptography. The air was growing warmer by the day, and birds chirped. I noticed tiny buds forming on the trees, and the sight heartened me a bit.
When Nick arrived in class, he looked a bit rushed. Not as well put together, his chin scruffy with a five o’clock shadow. He plopped his papers down on the desk and went over to the chalkboard to scrawl the words
Digital Signature
in his usual assured handwriting.
He turned to face us, leaned back against the desk. His toe tapped on the ground as he said, “Today’s chapter is on digital signatures. As you read in your text, when someone sends a message, we need to make sure that person was the actual sender of the message—and that the message maintained its original integrity and wasn’t compromised in transit.” He paused and scrubbed at the scruff on his chin. Flipped through his papers for a moment. “Hold on. I need to find my notes on it.”
A strange feeling slithered into me. This wasn’t at all like him. He seemed on edge, distracted. Nick could normally talk at length in our class without once looking at his notes. What was going on?
Students around me began to whisper in confusion. I heard snippets of “He seems weird. Is he okay?” and “I think our prof is having a breakdown.” My heart sagged, and I bit my lip to keep from saying anything in response.
Then Nick just slammed his notebook closed and sighed, a world-weary sound that brought everyone to full silence. His eyes slammed into mine for the briefest of moments, and there was something intense pouring from him I couldn’t quite understand. My stomach flipped. There was a message in his eyes, but I couldn’t interpret it.
He glanced at his watch, scratched his jaw with his other hand. “I’m sorry, class, but I need to leave early today and handle a few matters. You’re dismissed.” Then he gathered his stuff and left behind a roomful of stunned students.
We all just sat there for a moment, and finally people started getting up and leaving. Kelly shot me a look filled with concern that I felt too.
I needed to go to him. Now.
I tucked my stuff in my bags, fingers fumbling to cram the books in as fast as I could.
“That was so weird,” Kelly whispered. “Did you notice how shaken up he seemed? And he’s never let us go early.”
“I think I need to go see him.” Every cell in my body vibrated with the need to do so. I wanted to be the one to comfort him through whatever was wrong.
“So it
is
true,” a low voice said from my side.
I raised my head and met Dallas’s hot gaze, filled with anxiety and some other emotion underlying. Something that looked dangerously close to guilt. My heart hammered, and I unclenched my jaw. “What?”
“You and Muramoto. You two were dating, weren’t you? I mean, I already knew about it, but . . .” His words were thick and stuttered as they rolled off his tongue. His whole face was blood red, down to the tips of his ears.
Kelly gasped. “Dallas,” she ground out, narrowing her eyes. “What did you do?”
He turned his eyes down to the ground, and right then I knew the answer with every bit of certainty. Somehow, Dallas had figured out my secret. He’d been the one to tell on me and Nick.
He’d been the one to break us up, to threaten Nick’s livelihood.
Chapter 23
A
nger hit me hard and swift, and I took a step down the aisle toward Dallas. “What the hell?” I barked out. My hands shook, and I clenched them at my sides. “My life is none of your concern. Who I choose to see, what I do, where I go is my business only. How dare you stick your nose in and gossip about me! I can’t believe you.” My heated words poured from my lips in a furious rush.
He swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw jutted out, and his right eye twitched in the outer corner. Self-defense flared all over his face, in his body language. “I know you’re mad, but it shouldn’t be at me.
I’m
not the bad guy here.” He stabbed a finger at his chest. “And if you step back and be logical, you’ll agree.” He dropped his voice, but he was still vitriolic. “Megan, I saw the way he looked at you, especially when you two thought no one else was around. Totally inappropriate for a man in his position—a disgusting abuse of his power.”
I stood there and glared at him, deadly silent, stomach churning. I had no more words to voice the anger throbbing in me. My forehead cramped with a pending headache, but I ignored it. Kelly didn’t speak either; she seemed stunned.
“Okay, yeah, maybe I was a little jealous too,” Dallas continued with a defiant glare, but he fumbled his words as he kept talking, revealing his growing anxiety. Obviously he’d expected me to gush about how he was my hero for saving me from the predator professor. Right. “But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t understand why you liked him and not me, when I tried so hard to win you over. And you wouldn’t give me another chance—”
“Who did you tell?” I finally ground out.
His face grew pale as the color washed away from his cheeks. His attention shot over my shoulder, and he cleared his throat. “It’s all done now, so we should just move on. Trust me, you’re better off.”
“Since it’s ‘all done now,’ I deserve to know how it happened.” My words were deadly calm.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he shot his gaze back to me. “Fine. I’m not ashamed of what I did—it was the right thing. I needed some advice on what I should do, so I told my aunt what I suspected. When she told me she was going to mention it to the dean’s wife, who goes to church with her, I didn’t protest.” The righteous indignation pouring off him reeked as he slit his eyes. “
Someone
needed to intervene on your behalf and protect you, so I did.”
“Oh, Dallas,” Kelly said as she shook her head. She seemed to sense my new burst of anger at his last words and took a step closer to my side. “That was unbelievably caveman stupid of you.”
“I can’t believe I even need to say this,” I said to him slowly, enunciating every word, “but this is the twenty-first century, and I’m a grown woman. I don’t need or want a man dictating
anything
I should or shouldn’t be doing. Those are my choices, not yours, not anyone else’s.” My voice dropped to a near growl as I shot him a glare that had him swallowing and backing away. “Stay the hell out of my life, Dallas. I mean it. I swear, if I so much as see you
looking
in my direction again, you will regret it.” I knew I was being over the top, but I couldn’t help it. I was so pissed off, I could barely see straight.
I flung my bag over my shoulder and stomped away. He called my name a couple of times, but I ignored the sexist jerk.
“Megan, wait, I’m sorry, just let me explain a bit better,” he yelled right before I slammed the classroom door behind me and Kelly, right in his face.
Kelly walked with me down the hallway at a fast-paced clip, then drew me down a side hall. We tucked into an alcove, and she stood there quietly while I tried to push my rage back in.
“Dallas broke us up,” I whispered a moment later in shock. “Because he was jealous and thought I should have given him another try. Because he thought he knew what was better for me than I do. What a petty asshole.”
“I know,” she soothed as she rubbed my upper arm. “I can’t believe it either. What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know.” Despair leaked from my voice. “I don’t even know what
I
can do.”
“Have you talked to Dr. Muramoto at all since you stopped seeing him?”
I shook my head.
“He seemed very . . . upset today,” she said. “Something might have happened. I think you should go see him. Do you think it’s possible the school is firing him anyway, even though you guys aren’t dating anymore?”
The sudden swell of concern in my belly pushed away the last of my anger. “Shit. Do you think that could happen?”
“I don’t know.” She thinned her lips. “But you should find out.”
“I want to talk to him,” I admitted. “But I’m scared he’ll push me away. It’s been so long since we’ve said a word to each other. What if he doesn’t want to see me?” A month of living without him. A month of feeling empty inside. My heart longed to be filled with his soft laughs and easy smiles again.
“But what if he
does
and is afraid to reach out to you? After all, you’re not exactly sending him any signals that you want to talk to him either. You look so cool and collected in class, and the only reason I see your deeper feelings is because I’ve been around you enough to recognize a few of your tells.”
“I’m just trying to give him his space,” I protested, though of course I’d thought the same thing she had. It had been insanely hard, but I had kept myself closed off so as not to give away my personal agony over our breakup. To not make him feel guilty—or reveal my weakness. Maybe he’d read that as my losing interest.
Or maybe he simply thought he was doing me a favor by staying away.
I just didn’t know. And I wouldn’t unless I confronted him. Which meant I needed to be brave.
“So why don’t you show him just what he’s missing? What can it hurt?”
It was a good question. With my heart thudding, I nodded. If my mom could go through all of this to get on the right track, I could go see Nick.
She bussed my cheek. “Be brave, Megan. If you care about him this much, let him know. He might be struggling with this just as much as you are, wondering how you feel, if you miss him too. Guys are vulnerable and emotional, but they don’t always know how to show it.” She paused. “I know I wasn’t supportive of this at first, but seeing you this sad, this lonely, even when you try to put on a brave smile and keep champing through the days . . . it’s breaking my heart for you. I just want you happy, lady. And if he makes you happy, go get him.”
“You don’t think it makes me desperate? Chasing after him like that?” I was stalling because I was afraid. If he rejected me, I wasn’t sure how I would ever stop hurting from it.
“Doesn’t love make us all a little desperate?” Her smile was filled with understanding, even a little longing of her own. “If I had what you guys did, I’d be running him down until he got tired of me.”
I chuckled. My heart lightened a touch with hope. Maybe she was right. It was worth seeing him. And if it was over, then I’d pick up the pieces and move on. But I hadn’t given up on my mom through all those rough spots, and I shouldn’t give up that easily on us.
If he could possibly love me too, as much as I loved him, then we would find a way to work.
I’d walked away from Nick when he’d agonized with this huge decision. I knew it had tortured him, but instead of talking out options on what we could do, I’d just turned and run, too hurt by what I’d viewed as his dismissal. My chest tightened.
Kelly gave me a quick nod, then left me there with my thoughts. I gathered myself and my courage for another moment, smoothed my shaking hands over the thin fabric covering my stomach, then walked toward Nick’s office.
Knocked on the door.
No one answered.
“Dr. Muramoto?” I said tentatively. I didn’t see a light coming from the slit at the bottom of his door. Was he not in his office?
I took out my phone and texted him.
Can we talk?
Should I stay here and see if he’d come by, or leave? Indecision warred in me, and I struggled with what to do.
After a few minutes of no response and no sign of him anywhere nearby, I tucked my ragged heart back in my chest and left his office door. With heavy steps I walked out of the math building. Went to Coffee Baby and halfheartedly tried to study, then trudged to my last class for the day. I didn’t hear a word that was said as the teacher droned on and on. All my attention was focused on my silent phone.
I knew he’d gotten my message; my phone told me it had been received right after I’d sent it hours ago, so he’d seen it. But he hadn’t written me back.
I guess it was really over.
Sadness hit me in a fresh wave, and I blinked back my emotions. I filed out of the room behind all the other students. Exited the building into the afternoon sunshine and headed to my apartment.
When I reached my apartment building, I paused. Nick was in my parking lot, leaning against his car, arms crossed in front of his chest and lean legs crossed at the ankles. That familiar pose I loved so much. Those gorgeous dark eyes of his were fixed on mine.
My whole body slammed with awareness as I drank him in. Unlike earlier this morning, he didn’t seem scattered or distracted anymore. I could sense his attention hot on me, and my skin tightened in response. He was freshly shaved, wearing a new outfit.
“Megan,” he murmured as I neared him. I tried my best to fight back my body’s response to his proximity. I could smell him—his scent wafting in the soft spring air. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
Suddenly my eyes began to burn. I felt confused and lost and totally exposed, as if my insides were visible for everyone to see. Why was he here now when he couldn’t bother to respond to my text earlier? Not even a quick message to say he wanted to speak with me too? That he would meet me here?
I didn’t know if it was petty for me to be upset about that, but I was. I felt out of control, uneasy, my earlier bravado long gone. My brain was scrambled with all the words I wanted to say.
“What for?” I asked him outright.
“I have some things I need to tell you and they’re long overdue.” His voice was low and steady, but he didn’t sound very sure of himself. There was hesitation in his eyes, like he was weighing his words as carefully as possible before speaking. Another glimpse of his vulnerabilities; I wasn’t the only one on unsteady ground here. My nervousness faded just a touch. “Just a little of your time, please. I’ll bring you right home afterward if you want. I promise.”
“We could talk in my apartment,” I found myself offering. I wasn’t sure I could bear to sit in a cozy car beside him without wanting to touch him. In my apartment I could put space between us.
He paused, then nodded.
My hands shook as I opened the door. I knew Casey wouldn’t be in yet, since she’d told me she was working on a big paper all afternoon in the library. I flicked on the light switch.
“This is my apartment,” I said lamely. Duh, of course it was. My nerves were making me dumb, apparently. But Nick hadn’t been here yet, and I felt beyond awkward.
He stepped in and headed to the couch. Seemed to pause before sitting down, resting one ankle on the knee of the other leg.
I took the chair adjacent, even though my body cried out to rest in the crook of his arm.
Nick was silent for a good minute or two. Silence stretched out between us.
“Is everything okay?” I finally asked, unable to stand the quiet anymore. “You seemed . . . off in class. Is that what you came here to talk about?”
He thinned his lips and nodded, and my heart sank. The look in his eyes wasn’t happy or hopeful. Nick hadn’t come here to tell me he missed me, or that he wanted me back.
I steeled myself and tangled my fingers together in my lap. Drew in a slow breath and waited for him to start.
“I quit my job,” he finally said.
I blinked. “What?” That was so not what I’d expected him to say.
Nick dropped his foot to the floor and leaned toward me, his face inscrutable. “At the end of this semester, I’m done with Smythe-Davis. I put in a call with a grad school buddy to get adjunct work at a nearby college this summer. Plus another sent me a lead on a potential full-time teaching position in the fall. No guarantees, but it looks promising.”
“But . . . I don’t understand.” Why would he quit? What if he didn’t get tenure track with another college? “The school dropped everything against you after we stopped seeing each other, didn’t they? Are you still in trouble with them?”
Nick rose from the couch, then crouched down at my feet, on his knees. He cupped my hands in his, and that warmth I had craved daily seared my skin, slipped into my veins. His eyes were wide open, and I could see the nervous hope all over his face, tinged with a number of other emotions. My pulse kicked.
“Watching you walk out my door and not stopping you was the single stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I have regretted it every damn day. I’ve seen you in class and have been torn apart by self-loathing at my weakness. It killed me not to talk to you, not to kiss you or smell your skin or hear you laughing. You gave me your heart, and I didn’t value it. I’m so sorry for that.”
I sucked in a ragged draw of air and bit my lower lip. Hearing those words come from him eased a bit of that raw ache that had taken up permanent residence in my heart. His thumbs stroked the thin flesh of my fingers, sending goose bumps across my arms. He was so close to me, so close, and my whole body just wanted to lean into him.
“Time has given me perspective,” he continued in a husky voice. “And I couldn’t go one more day in this hollow existence without at least trying to win you again. Am I alone in this, Megan? Have you stopped loving me?”
I shook my head as tears flooded my eyes and streamed down my cheeks, unchecked. I wanted to speak, but my throat was so tight and painful I wasn’t sure I could. The hurt and anger and loneliness was fading fast now, replaced with a light buoyancy I hadn’t felt in so long.