She knew everything.
She knew that I wrote the paper. That I was the one who sold her the paper. She’s a smart girl, so there wasn’t any way that she didn’t piece things together.
She knew that I took advantage of her, that I trapped her into this relationship. And she thought that everything that happened between us all boiled down to revenge, and it wasn’t because I gave a damn. She didn’t know that everything I’d said was true. She didn’t know that I was madly in love with her, and the thought of losing her was like taking a red-hot branding iron to my skin. She didn’t know that there was no way I could survive without her.
It felt like someone had reached into my chest, like they were squeezing my heart in their fist.I’d lost her.I knew I’d never get her back.
I could barely breathe. It was like my chest was so tight that my lungs couldn’t fill with air. My hands began to shake as I tried to figure out what to do. They were shaking so much that I nearly dropped my phone when I tapped on her number. It didn’t even ring. It just went straight to voicemail.
She’d turned it off because she didn’t want me to call. She knew I would.
“Fuck,” I snarled as I tossed my phone onto my desk. I rolled my chair forward and grabbed the mouse, where I began closing out the things she’d left open.
That’s when I noticed that she saw the reply I’d sent just an hour earlier. She even saw the receipt from where I paid my little spy. She knew I’d been watching her. She knew that I’d been watching Chase. She probably thought that I didn’t trust her, and that wasn’t the case. I trusted her. I didn’t trust him. I knew he’d try for her given the chance. I’d already seen him do it a number of times.
I was struck by panic. What if she was so upset with me that she ran to him?
I stood so fast that it sent my chair rolling across the floor until it bumped into the wall behind me. If he touched her, I’d fucking kill him. She was mine. She belonged to me and only me.
I couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching her, kissing her, seeing her in the ways that only I had. My hands and my mouth had branded her skin. There wasn’t an inch of her that I hadn’t tasted. I wasn’t fucking willing to share that with anyone. Ever.
If she refused to answer her phone, the only other way I knew how to get hold of her was by going to her place, but that’s something we both agreed that I should avoid. It was too dangerous for us there. Her friends or even Gabe could drop by at any time and catch us together. We were only safe at my place. Her friends had no business stopping at my apartment, and Gabe knew he wasn’t welcome. I doubted that he even knew where I lived.
It wasn’t like I could just go to her place and knock on the door, begging her to let me in. I couldn’t even catch up to her in public to beg for forgiveness. If she didn’t want to hear me out, there was no way that I could make her. The only thing I could do was give her space and hope that she calmed down eventually. I needed her to calm down enough that she’d be willing to hear me out. But even then, I had no idea how I’d get her to forgive me. I knew what I did was fucked up. She had every right to hate me. I couldn’t live with her hating me. I couldn’t live if I had to stand back and watch her move on with some other guy.
I thought back on the few times I’d seen her with Chase, and the jealousy started to boil in my stomach. My entire body felt like it had been lit on fire as sweat prickled my skin from the rage inside of me. I knew that the bottle of wine I grabbed when I got home wouldn’t do what I needed.
I needed something stronger.
I moved toward the kitchen with deliberate steps, bound and determined to pour as much liquor down my throat as possible. I wanted to be so fucking wasted that I couldn’t rememberher name. I wondered how much that would take? Was there enough alcohol in the world to make me forget her, even if only for a night?
I had to try.
I had to do anything that would keep me from going to her. Having your professor banging on the door while begging for forgiveness would draw too much attention. I had to give her space and hope that she would come to me.
I grabbed a bottle of Jameson and removed the cap. I tossed it toward the trash can before bringing the glass to my lips. I took a large gulp, and then another, and then another. My stomach revolted, trying to fight against the burn, but sheer willpower kept it down. I felt nauseous, like I’d drunk a vat of poison, but I knew that would wear off as the effects took hold. With the bottle in my hand, I made my way back to the living room, where I fell onto the couch.
It was too quiet without her there. The TV wasn’t on, and there weren’t any sounds of movement like there normally would be. My eyes scanned over the contents of the coffee table. The remote was where I put it last night when I decided to carry her to bed after she fell asleep with her head on my lap. Her too-large insulated tumbler was still there, probably full of water she always intended on drinking, but always ended up forgetting. Her socks were still on the floor by the leg of the table, having been pulled off by her as she got cozy while we watched the show she insisted we watch. A stupid fucking show that I avoided for years but ended up getting sucked into after giving her her way.
I brought the bottle back to my lips, taking a smaller swig. I took out my phone and decided to send her a message, even though I knew she wouldn’t get it. She had to turn her phone on eventually, though.
ELLIOT: I know what you must be thinking. I know how bad all of this looks, but please, give me the chance to explain. What we have is too special to discard simply because we don’t have all the information. I understand that you have every right to be mad, and that’s why I’m not coming for you right now. I want to give you however much time you need. If you want to talk, meet me in my office in the morning before class. I’ll wait for you, Evie.
The rest of the night I spent swimming in a bottle until I was too drunk to hold my eyes open, but I could still remember her name.
Note to self: it would take a lot more than one bottle to forget. Maybe tomorrow I’ll try two.
I feltlike shit when I woke up, but I remembered everything from the day before. I had to force myself up so I could get to campus in case she did want to talk. I knew not to hold my breath, though.
I showered, got dressed, and headed toward campus. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way to help sober me up, and washed down a couple of Tylenol in hopes of getting rid of the hangover.
I was one of the first people on campus, so the place was quiet. I ended up taking a nap on the leather sofa in my office until the first class started.
I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t come to me. I was devastated.
I wondered if she’d even read the text or if she deleted it the second she saw my name. Still, I expected her to come to class. Despite what was going on with us, I knew she still had to keep her attendance up to keep her scholarship, so I played the waiting game, anxiously.
It was almost time for her class to start when a staff member walked into my class. “Professor West. How are you doing this morning?” she asked, holding out a piece of paper.
