Dear Professor

by Blaire Drake

  She narrowed her eyes. “You scratched your forehead. You’re lying. Something else is wrong.”

  Damn her mom senses. “Just… You know. Guy stuff. It’ll sort itself out. Just seems a little bleak right now.”

  And wasn’t that the understatement of the century?

  “Are you sure? Because I will drive up there and whip the ass of any man who tries to mess with my baby.”

  A small laugh escaped me, and I smiled fondly. “I promise. I’m my mother’s daughter, aren’t I?”

  “Damn straight you are.” If the jump of the camera was anything to go by, she’d just banged her fist against the table. She got a little momma bear when she thought someone was trying to hurt her kids.

  “I’ll figure it out, Mom. Always do, don’t I?”

  She nodded with a faint smile.

  “Enough about me. What have you been up to? Has Dad actually finished building the brick shed yet?”

  “The brick shed has been ignored indefinitely. Right now, there’s half a shed built that the boys have claimed as their fort and are begging your father to build a second so they can shoot each other with their Nerf guns. They’re crazy.” She rolled her eyes then paused.

  I hated when she paused. I knew what it meant.

  “I saw Hannah yesterday.”

  Griffin’s mom.

  I swallowed hard. “How is she?”

  “She’s good. She finally got a job at the florist downtown. She said the flowers help keep her busy now, and that it’s been long enough.”

  “I’m glad she’s okay.”

  “She’d love to see you when you come home. She’s real pleased for you and how well you’re doing.”

  “I’ll stop by when I come home,” I promised.

  Although seeing my dead ex-boyfriend’s mom was the last thing I wanted to do, Hannah had never been anything but sweet to me. I could at least have a coffee with her. After all, I might have lost the guy I loved, but she’d lost her son.

  “Perfect,” she said. Then the sound of raucous boys filled the air from her end, and her groan followed almost instantly. “I need to go, sweetie. They’re probably killing the cat or something.”

  “Sure, Mom. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  “Okay, Darce. Bye.” She blew a kiss before clicking off.

  I shut my laptop and dropped my head back on the top of my chair. Well, that conversation had done nothing except excite my brothers and bring my ex up. Now, I remembered why calling home was an irregularity. Griffin always, always came up.

  It wasn’t that I hated talking about him. On the contrary, I didn’t mind. I loved him. I’d never forget the pain of that night, but I’d moved on now. I’d carved out a new life for myself. One he might not have been proud of completely, but I knew he’d want me to be happy. And happy I was.

  Mostly. But was anyone really entirely happy? I didn’t know. I doubted it.

  I took a deep breath and let go of the sting that hurt my heart. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t dwell on him or the day it had all gone wrong. He wouldn’t want me to think of that.

  I opened my laptop again and brought my e-mail up. Focusing on the situation at hand made it easier for me to move on from the thoughts of Griffin. My stomach fluttered as I opened a new draft and hit the J key.

  To: jkeat@gmail.com

  From: darcy_h345@gmail.com

  Subject: I’m sorry.

  Dear Professor,

  I overstepped the boundaries. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I understand if this changes things.

  Xoxo, Darcy.

  My mouse hovered over the send button for a moment before I bit the bullet and clicked it. I’d never know unless I got on with it, after all.

  It wasn’t a lie. I did understand—I knew that my questioning might have ruined all of this and made my attempts at some kind of revenge futile.

  The worst part of this was that I still wanted to dig. I wanted to know more about him. Obviously, his wife was such a sore subject that holding that over his head would be too cruel, even for me.

  A part of me was telling me to give up, warring with the other half that wanted me to carry on. But what if I messed this up again? The easy solution really was just to coast through the next several weeks, take my letter, and move on.

  My phone buzzed beneath my pillow, and when I reached over for it, I noticed the green blinking light at the top. Apprehension flooded my bloodstream as I saw that the message was from Jordan, but I forced myself to open it.

  To: darcy_h345@gmail.com

  From: jkeat@gmail.com

  Subject: Sorry.

  Darcy,

  I owe you an apology also. I’d like to explain myself if you’re free.

  J

  To: jkeat@gmail.com

  From: darcyh_345@gmail.com

  Subject: Accepted.

  Dear Professor,

  I’m free… Name and the time and the place.

  Xoxo, Darcy.

  To: darcyh_345@gmail.com

  From: jkeat@gmail.com

  Subject: Now.

  Darcy,

  Pete’s Diner off tollway downtown. You know it?

  J

  To: jkeat@gmail.com

  From: darcyh_345@gmail.com

  Subject: Yep.

  Dear Professor,

  See you there.

  Xoxo, Darcy.

  I pulled up in the parking lot of Pete’s Diner and cut the engine. I recognized Jordan’s SUV instantly.

  It wasn’t until I got out of the car that I realized that this was kind of risky. Then again, it was no riskier than his spanking me in his classroom between lessons, so what did I know?

  I clutched my purse to my stomach and walked toward the diner. It was nothing special—nothing greater than your typical roadside diner with greasy food and super-fizzy soda. Judging by the majority of the vehicles in the parking lot, it was a trucker’s haven.

  Maybe there was something to this after all.

  I pushed the door open and was immediately assaulted by the distinct smell of fried food. The air actually smelled like grease, thick and oily, but that didn’t stop my stomach from rumbling as the scent of burgers and fries cut through that.

  Oh, man. I was hungry.

  I paused inside the door and looked around, hoping to see Jordan. When I couldn’t, I approached the counter only to have someone step up behind me and touch their hand to my back. I jumped, and my hand flew to my chest despite the familiarity.

  “Oh God,” I half gasped, staring up into Jordan’s bright eyes.

  “Sorry.” He smirked. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Hmm. I’m starting to not believe you.”

  He laughed quietly. “I have a table. Do you want to sit down?”

  “No. I thought I’d eat standing up.”

  “I see you brought your sass today.”

  “It’s my DNA. What can I say?” I slid into the booth’s leather seat and grabbed a menu.

  Jordan adjusted the sleeves of his checkered shirt until they rested above his elbows and sat opposite me. “I’m absolutely sure you’re right.” His lips twitched to one side, and I saw his smile reflected in his eyes.

  Butterflies fluttered low in my tummy. I held his gaze for a second longer before I dropped my eyes to the menu and focused on that instead. My stomach wasn’t supposed to be fluttering. There shouldn’t have been butterflies.

  That wasn’t how this worked.

  Yet there they were, stirring up a storm.

  “Are you ready or order, or do you need a couple more minutes?”

  I glanced up as the waitress stuck her hip out. As certain as I was that the question had been intended for both of us, she looked as though an order weren’t the only thing she wanted to serve Jordan. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes.

  “Darcy?” Jordan asked, his lips twisting. “Are you ready?”

  “Sure. I’ll have a Diet Pepsi and a cheeseburger. Thanks.” I put the menu back in
its holder.

  “I’ll take the same,” Jordan told her, doing the same with his menu. “Thank you.”

  The waitress hovered for a second before disappearing. I caught Jordan’s amused glance at me as I watched her walk away. What was she waiting for? His phone number added on the end of his order?

  “So we need to talk.” I drew my attention back to him and tucked my hair behind my ear.

  “We do.” He sat back on the seat, his eyes fixed on me. “Let’s talk.”

  Oh. Okay. I was starting. That made sense because I was the one who’d started all of this in the first place.

  “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I realize it was out of line. Really, your personal life is none of my business.”

  “To an extent, I agree, but if something is bothering you, I’d rather you discuss it with me. Not hang around outside my house and spring heavy subjects on me.”

  “I panicked. I’d known for a few days, but then…” I trailed off as the waitress returned with our drinks and set them on the mats in front of us with a flourish.

  The woman could have done with an extra button on her blouse being done up, but whatever. When she left, I continued.

  “We… You know. I felt uncomfortable with the knowledge that you were married.”

  “Stop right there.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. His fingers wrapped around his glass, tapping gently. Condensation on the outside disappeared with each touch of his fingertips. “You assumed. If you’d looked further on your little discovery mission, you would have found out more and the point would have been moot.”

  I averted my eyes down to the table, where my fingers had found the napkin and were playing with the corner. “It would?”

  “Yes.” He sighed heavily. “Darcy… My wife died four years ago.”

  My hand flew to my mouth. I tried to cover my gasp, but it didn’t work. Shit! No wonder he’d been so mad. Shit! My cheeks flamed with my embarrassment.

  “Oh my God. I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.”

  He half smiled. “It’s not something I’ve tended to dwell on since I moved to Illinois. Not many people here know about Amanda, and I much preferred it that way.”

  “Then I went and brought her up,” I muttered, letting my hand fall. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Yes.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers. “You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. You caught me off guard, and I apologize.”

  I glanced at our hands then met his eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

  “Fine. Then let’s just say that we both made a mistake and move on from it. Don’t you agree?”

  My mouth opened and closed. How could I argue with that? “So, there really is no poor, unsuspecting wife somewhere?”

  “If I were going to have an affair, don’t you think I’d be taking my mistress to a fuck pad in the city and not a house in the suburbs?”

  “I’m your mistress?”

  “No. You’re many things, but none of them that. And, before you go further on the unsuspecting wife, there is no unsuspecting wife, girlfriend, fiancée, or, indeed, boyfriend, just in case you decide to go down that trail of thought.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Funnily enough, I’d never considered you swinging that way, but thank you for the clarification. It’s appreciated.”

  His eyes twinkled with the upward curve of his lips, and screw it. The butterflies were back.

  “You’re welcome. Now, perhaps we can resume our agreement without the questions regarding marital statuses?”

  “That is the only option.”

  His response was his steady look. It was more confirming than any words he could have spoken.

  The waitress brought our food over, and he let my hand go. I snatched it off the table far too quickly and set it on my lap as my burger was put in front of me. Like he wouldn’t take my hand again if he didn’t want to, but having lunch with him and the butterflies and the hand-holding were just a little too much.

  I squeezed some ketchup onto the side of my plate and picked a fry up. I dipped it a few times before dropping it and looking at Jordan. “Do you mind… How did she die?”

  “Amanda?” he questioned.

  At my nod, he sipped from his drink.

  “She was killed in a car crash. Drunk driver.”

  Chills ran across my skin at those final two words. What were the chances? Just an hour ago, I’d spoken to my mom and had Griffin pushed to the forefront of my mind, and now, I was there…sitting with Jordan, a man whose wife had been killed in the same way.

  “I’m sorry. I knew someone who passed the same way.”

  He gave a wry twist of his lips. “Were they the drunk driver?”

  “I—no. He wasn’t.”

  “He?”

  “My high school boyfriend.” I grimaced and dipped my fry in ketchup again. “Right before Halloween. He’d been the designated driver at a party and was on his way home after dropping me off at my house. He had an SUV go into the driver’s side of his car. He died on impact.” My heart was clenching inside my chest, the old wound reopening.

  I understood then, truly. The pain would never leave. It’d just become a little more livable every day until it dulled.

  “I’m sorry, Darcy. That must have been hard.”

  I shrugged. “It was what it was, you know? If it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else. Maybe someone with a husband or wife and kids.”

  “I understand. Amanda almost killed someone along with herself.”

  “She was the drunk one?”

  Jordan nodded slowly and picked some lettuce off his burger. His eyes flicked to mine before he explained. “She’d been battling alcohol addiction since the early days of our marriage. She’d had three short stays in rehab, the last one not long before she died. It was the same old story. She told me she was working late. Then the next thing I knew, I was spending my nights in the ICU next to the sobbing family of the girl she’d hit. They left. She didn’t.”

  My throat closed up. The wave of emotion I felt was overwhelming. It spread over me in a chill that radiated up and down my spine, eventually coming to settle in a dull ache in my heart. I couldn’t imagine the suffering he’d been through. All those nights, waiting and wondering…

  I was right. There were a hundred layers to him that he kept carefully hidden.

  “I’m sorry. That sucks.” Wow. If that wasn’t the lamest thing I’d ever said.

  “It did at the time,” Jordan said, meeting my eyes. “But the young girl got lucky. Amanda hit the back of her car. If it hadn’t been then, it would have happened another day, and the other person may not have been so lucky. I’m thankful that no one else had to endure the pain of her addiction.”

  “Do you miss her?” I tore a piece of my burger off and popped it in my mouth.

  “Sometimes. It’s not as bad as it was before. But, without sounding like a total heartless bastard, I’m also glad. She doesn’t have to battle with herself every day anymore, and selfishly, I’m glad I don’t have to battle with her, either.”

  “I don’t think that’s selfish at all. It sounds like you dedicated a lot of time to her addiction. It doesn’t make you a bad person if you’re relieved it’s no longer part of your life. It makes you human. We’re designed to be thankful when the negative things that dragged us down aren’t around anymore… It’s just the way we are. It’s like…that scratchy sweatshirt your grandmother knitted you and the relief when she leaves after the holidays and you can stuff it in the back of the closet. Just because it isn’t there doesn’t mean you don’t care about it. You can care about what happened without feeling guilty for being relieved.”

  “Very well explained.” He offered me a small smile. “Now, I see why you’re studying law.”

  I shrugged as my cheeks flushed lightly. “Ever lived with twin boy
s? You have to learn to be diplomatic. Mostly to get them to stop running around the house with your underwear on their head.”

  “You have brothers?” He bites into his burger, one eyebrow raised.

  “Yep. They’re seven and totally batshit crazy.” I picked my glass up and pursed my lips. “And I’m pretty sure they still do the underwear thing, just with my mom’s.”

  “I assume she doesn’t have the same skills as you do.”

  “The persuasive ones? Absolutely not.” I laugh. “She always joked that I could be on death row and talk myself out of the execution as it was in progress. And, despite my major, there’s a chance that I may or may not have talked myself out of a parking ticket, two speeding tickets, and having my license revoked.”

  Jordan half choked on his drink. “Why were you getting your license revoked?”

  “The unpaid tickets. Obviously.”

  “I thought you said you talked yourself out of them.”

  “I did. Well, kind of. I went on a date from hell with the sheriff’s son, and the man was all too happy to write them off if I slept with his son.”

  “Did you?” He broke out into a grin.

  “Of course not.” I snorted. “I made a deal with his son: If he told his dad I’d slept with him, I’d put a good word in for him, if you get my meaning.”

  “I get it.” He laughed and pushed his plate to the side. “I have to admit, that was very well played, Miss Hamilton.”

  “Why, thank you, sir.” I grinned sassily. “I do find my mouth to be one of my better qualities.”

  His eyes flashed with the memory. “I have to say I agree, and if I didn’t have thirty-five papers to grade tonight, I’d be hauling you out of here to remind me.”

  I bent forward, making sure my boobs crushed against the table. His gaze dropped to my chest.

  “Why not stay up a little later? I’m done eating and have nothing to do for the rest of the day.”

  “Are you attempting to use your persuasive skills on me, sweet thing?”

  “Attempting? Not at all. We’d already be in your car if I’d tried that.”