Hard Habit to Break (A Chicago Love Story #1)

by K. T. Webb

  Chapter 8

  By the time I get back to my bedroom, I’ve received multiple text messages from Isaac. I can’t bring myself to look at them. I hate that I have to be so responsible. I hate that a relationship with Isaac can never happen. I collapse onto my bed and finally check my messages.

  Isaac tells me he’s sorry for everything but he’ll never be sorry for what happened between us. He then tells me he will make sure to keep our relationship purely professional from now on. I send him a thumbs up emoticon because it’s all I can muster right now.

  As the days pass, I find myself buried in coursework. My classes with Isaac are only as awkward as I let them be, and I find I am able to compartmentalize my attraction for him. It’s like I locked it away in the basement and can even talk to him like everyone else. Sometimes, I notice the apparent hurt in his eyes as I chat with him as though there is a wall between us.

  As we approach Halloween, CeCe starts to ask a lot of questions. She hates seeing me so depressed. I’m trying to move on but it’s not easy. The bottom line is that I am not completely over whatever we had between us, but I’m doing my best.

  “If he wants to go on sabbatical for you then let him! Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?”

  I roll my eyes at her, “It’s not that easy. And look who’s talking, it’s not like you’re leaving the door wide open for anyone.”

  Mercifully, CeCe drops the subject as she begins to chop vegetables for supper. We’re working on our mid-term papers for Isaac’s class. We have been tasked with comparing themes and writing styles from classic literature to contemporary novels. I’ve chosen to examine the differences in romance novels. CeCe has chosen to write her paper on the constant or changing themes found in horror. We’ve taken a break long enough to whip up a quick supper.

  “What’s crazy is the common theme in classic horror stories is fear of things that have now become commonplace. The common theme in contemporary horror stories is a fear of things that are old or forgotten.”

  “Interesting. I can see how that could be though. People always fear change, but they can learn to accept it. We always struggle to relate to things we can’t possibly experience firsthand.”

  CeCe nods and tosses peppers, onions and mushrooms in with the beef tips she’s finished browning. I put the cheesy garlic knots in the oven and set the timer. While I wait, I re-read what I’ve written and think about the common themes. I’m struggling to find many differences aside from the growing trend of increasing the sexual content and the introduction of various forms of erotica.

  By the time our food is ready, we are both ready to give up for the night. We have to present our initial findings in class in the morning. I am not looking forward to getting up in front of Isaac and discussing the themes I am writing about.

  We sit down and watch a few episodes of Love & Hip Hop, and by ten o’clock, I’m ready for bed. CeCe is a night owl, so she stays up for another episode while I climb the stairs to my room. I put on my favorite fleece pajamas and crawl into bed. I am mentally exhausted so it doesn’t take long to drift off. My alarm is blaring within what feels like seconds.

  I open my eyes and realize I’ve overslept. I bolt out of bed and into the shower. I grab the outfit I laid out last night and dress quickly. I hurry to wake CeCe and rush through applying my make-up as she stumbles around getting ready. We rush out the door at breakneck speed.

  We make it into class just in time. CeCe keeps looking between me and Isaac, I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. I feel like she’s scrutinizing every move I make, and feel self-conscious as I take the floor to present my research.

  “Having read a large number of romance novels from both the classic and contemporary categories, I can tell you that the common theme through the years falls into obtaining the unobtainable. Humans have an obsession with trying to get what we can’t have. One of my personal favorites, Jane Eyre, followed the story of a young girl who led a sad existence. Her youth was far from enjoyable and she escaped into her own thoughts. When she met Edward Rochester, she was completely disarmed. Not only was he her employer, he was also considerably older than she. We love stories like that, the stories that make us take a look at our surroundings and hope for more. Newer trends like those found in the Fifty Shades series show us the same concept; the main characters couldn’t be more different and both views the other as completely unobtainable,” I pause and smile briefly at CeCe before continuing.

  “When love seems impossible, we want it that much more. When characters are flawed, we want to see them find complete understanding in another person. When we recognize a piece of ourselves in a character, we develop very strong feelings regarding their success or failure,” I take a deep breath before moving forward, my eyes find Isaac’s for a brief moment before I take the plunge, “One of the other common themes we find in romance novels is the idea that intense attraction cannot be ignored. When characters have a connection, we want to see them defy the odds and fight for their relationship to work. A secret rendezvous or ill-fated romance leaves us filled with hope that anything is possible if you want it enough.”

  A smattering of applause tells me I didn’t suck as much as I thought I did. I can practically feel Isaac’s burning gaze on me as I make my way to my seat.

  CeCe leans over to me as I sit, “Holy shit, Liv. Are you trying to get him back now or what?”

  I throw her an annoyed look and turn my attention to the next speaker. Isaac keeps looking at me. I can’t fully read his expression but I recognize the hesitant wonder present in his eyes. I knew I should have left the whole anything-can-happen and defying-the-odds crap out of my presentation. Of course I knew it would make Isaac think I was talking about him and if I’m being honest with myself, I was. I look at him again and catch him staring at me. I have to look away quickly to avoid the thoughts that are threatening to invade my mind.

  When class is finished I try to leave as quickly as possible, but Isaac stops me before I can reach the door.

  “Miss Hanover, I need to discuss your research with you,” he says to distract the class from any ulterior motives they may sense are present.

  I nervously hang back and wait until the room is clear. CeCe looks back at me wistfully before giving me a sympathetic shrug. Once everyone has left, Isaac motions for me to join him in his office just off the lecture hall.

  “That was a very interesting assessment you shared,” Isaac says as he takes a seat behind his desk.

  “Thanks. It’s what I found from my research.”

  “I have a question to ask you, but I don’t really know if it’s my business to be asking.”

  I raise an eyebrow, where could this be going?

  “Are you dating anyone?”

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but that was not it, “No. Why do you ask?”

  He blushes and clears his throat, “I just wasn’t sure if you’d moved on.”

  “No, Isaac, I haven’t. And I really don’t feel like picking at a scab that’s still healing.”

  “I completely understand. I’ve not been seeing anyone either, in case you were wondering.”

  I had been wondering, but I didn’t want to admit it to him, “I don’t want you to think that you can’t start dating. If you meet someone, you shouldn’t let me hold you back.”

  “I was going to tell you the same thing. College is a time for fun and experimentation.”

  I’m pretty sure my jaw drops to the floor, “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You should be out there dating guys and figuring out who you are.”

  “No, thank you. I’ve already had enough of the relationship scene for a while. I have zero interest in exploring any more. My last boyfriend was a total dick and then I took a chance on you and me. That was gut-wrenching enough for me. I can only have my heart broken so many times thank you very much.”

  Isaac looks hurt. I can’t let myself feel bad for what I said. I don’t exactly g
et the warm-fuzzies when I think about getting into a relationship after two miserably failed attempts. It’s clearly me; my high school boyfriend was my first love, but after we did the deed he pretty much disappeared. He got weird and then abruptly changed his college plans to attend a school on the other side of the country. I had dated a guy when I first started at The University of Chicago; he turned out to be a huge prick. My lack of interest in jumping him led to a few heated arguments and an attempted rape. When I met Isaac it felt so different. I jumped head first into the whole thing and barely gave myself enough time to think. Look where that’s gotten me.

  “I better get going. We don’t need anyone thinking anything is going on in here,” I tell him with finality.

  “Wait.”

  I turn to face him with my hand still poised on the closed office door.

  “What you said about impossible love? I feel like you deserve to know that I am trying desperately to keep our relationship professional. But I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve become a bit of a habit for me.”

  My breath catches in my throat at his confession. I can’t go there. If I admit my feelings for him there’s no turning back. I’ve come to respect him and know him much better by being his student. What I’ve learned about him has only increased my attraction to him. He walks up to me and takes my hand.

  “Liv, would it be so wrong if we tried to see where this goes? Don’t we owe it to the hopeless romantics out there?” He grins at his joke.

  I roll my eyes at him as I relish the feeling of my hand in his. He reaches up and touches my cheek. That’s all it takes for me to fall into his arms. He kisses me tenderly and slowly. I’ve missed the taste of him. My fingers wrap in his hair and I pull him closer as we deepen our kiss. We pull away abruptly when a knock sounds on the door.

  Isaac looks into my eyes for what feels like an eternity. I step away from the door and take a seat facing his desk. I’m sure my lips would give us away.

  “Isaac, I mean Dr. Miller, am I interrupting something?” The voice belongs to a girl who has multiple classes with me.

  Isaac clears his throat, “Miss Peters, I was just discussing some things with Miss Hanover. We’ll be done soon. Was there something you needed to discuss?”

  Miss Peters is quiet for a few moments and I wonder what’s going on in her head. Why did she call him Isaac?

  “Um, no, I mean, it can wait until after our next class. We’ll have more time then.”

  The way she purrs out the last sentence makes my stomach churn. Who the hell is this chick? Isaac closes the door and locks it behind him. When he comes over to me, he looks troubled.

  “Is that your ‘move on and experiment’ person?” The venom is evident in my voice.

  “What? No. Why would you think that?”

  “Come on, Isaac. The way she said your name, the fact that she wants to talk to you after class so you have more time?”

  “It’s not like that for me. Cassie has taken an interest in me but I have kept my distance.”

  I stand and start to leave, “Look, I’m not stupid and I refuse to play games. If you’ve decided to be a man-whore then it’s none of my business. I’m not going to be the slut who sleeps with her professor, but if that’s what you’re looking for then I think you’re on the right track.”

  Isaac is stunned by the verbal slap I’ve given him. I am seething when I leave his office and make my way to my seat. I don’t want to believe that he would move on so quickly, especially not to another student. I avoid eye contact with him as he delivers his lecture. The longer I sit and think about it the worse I feel about what I said. I know Isaac was sincere with me about his relationship status when we started seeing each other. It wasn’t fair for me to say what I did.

  Despite admitting to myself that I’d put my foot in my mouth, I decide not to say anything further to Isaac about it. It’s probably better if he thinks I’m disgusted by him. No matter what we want, we can’t be together.

  Chapter 9

  The early November chill is bearable only because of the gorgeous oranges and reds that still cling to the trees. I’m on my way back home from class when I hear someone call my name.

  “Miss Hanover!”

  I turn to see Dean Price briskly walking towards me. My stomach leaps to my throat. I haven’t been with Isaac in a while. What could he possibly want? He’s a tall man with white hair. He was probably attractive years ago, but now he relies on his position and confidence to attract people to him.

  “Dean Price?”

  “Good morning, how are you doing this fine day?”

  “Chilly. Did you need something?”

  He’s holding something in his hands that appears to have a ribbon tied around it. When he gets closer, I see that it’s a book.

  “Olivia, may I call you Olivia?” He doesn’t pause for confirmation, “I couldn’t help but notice that you enjoy classic literature.”

  Oh, for the love of all that’s holy where is this going?

  “I’ve come across this beautifully bound copy of The Complete Works of Shakespeare and I thought you’d appreciate its beauty as much as I do.”

  I stare at him blankly for a millisecond. This has to be some kind of cruel joke. What the hell is in the water around here? When I don’t respond, he keeps talking.

  “It may seem a little forward, but I’d love to take you for coffee and talk about the common themes throughout the plays within this book.”

  Ugh. No. The common theme is ill-fated romance and I’ve already had enough of that, thank you very much. He’s starting to get nervous at my lack of response so he starts talking again.

  “Olivia, I don’t usually do this but I just haven’t been able to get you out of my—“

  “Nope!” The word flies out of my mouth before I can stop myself, “Just, no. I mean seriously?”

  His mouth drops open and he stumbles through an incoherent sentence. I hold my hand up to stop him.

  “Look, I’m just going to walk away and pretend this conversation didn’t happen.”

  I turn to walk away but decide to do one more thing. I take the book from him. I might as well return it to Isaac. I shake my head and try to focus on the scenery my walk provides. Isaac gave the dean that book because he wanted to woo the woman he wants. Apparently, it’s me. What in the world? I am beyond irritated and just want to go lock myself in my room until the end of senior year. I could become a recluse.

  I go straight to Isaac’s front door. I only have to knock once before he opens up. I register the look of surprise on his face. I am not here for a social call so I thrust the book into his hands.

  “Here, this belongs to you.”

  He looks down at the book, “Where did you get this? Oh, my god!”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it and I’d prefer not to think about it ever again. Looks like you guys should start a club.”

  “Liv, you know it’s not like that.”

  “You keep telling yourself that. How’s Cassie by the way?”

  “Olivia, please stop. I wish you’d talk to me about all this.”

  “Talking isn’t going to change anything. If you’re looking for a girl who doesn’t mind being your student and your lover, then I am not it.”

  I angrily head back to my apartment and close the door. CeCe is sitting on the couch, she pauses her show as soon as she sees me. I sit down next to her and tell her all about my day.

  “Girl, you attract some real winners.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Here’s what we need to do, we need to make cookies and drink wine.”

  I gratefully laugh at her random suggestion, “Okay, I’ll make the cookies, you grab the wine.”

  CeCe has helped me cope with so many ridiculous things that I can’t help but feel as though she should have been a counselor. The problem is, she’s too blunt. I can picture her telling people to get over it and stop being stupid.

  We spend the next few weeks going
through our regular routine. I do everything I can to avoid seeing Dean Price and spending any time alone with Isaac. By the time Thanksgiving break arrives, CeCe and I are ready to get out of the city.

  Despite my parents living only about 50 miles away in Gurnee, it takes us almost four hours to get out of the city and into the suburbs. Everyone is travelling for the holiday weekend. We make it to my house and my parents greet us at the door.

  “Olivia! CeCe! Welcome home!” My mom pulls us both into a tight hug.

  My sixteen-year-old sister barrels past my mom and attacks me. Ava hates being the only child left at home. My parents spaced us out perfectly. They didn’t want any of us in diapers at the same time and wanted to spend time getting to know each of us before adding another child to the house. It may seem weird, but it worked out well growing up.