The department had been buzzing since the request was sent out, but the dean remained tight-lipped, saying all would be revealed on Monday.
Wes wasn’t one for gossip, but his colleagues speculated about the possibility of getting a second administrative assistant for the department. Or perhaps they would introduce new classes. More omegas were attending university than ever before, so it made sense to offer courses catering to them.
Wes thought that idea had merit, considering how popular his lectures on the history of omega rights were with students of all genders. He only hopedTeam Updatesdidn’t mean the department was being downsized.
Thankfully, the mood in the conference room was jovial. People crowded around the large table, chatting amiably. Dean Reynolds smiled as he spoke with an adjunct. A cake sat on the console.
Everyone arrived on time and the dean took his place at the head of the table. “I won’t keep you in suspense,” he said, beaming. “And I apologize for the vague nature of the meeting request, but I wanted to make sure I had everyone’s full attention.” Guffaws cascaded throughout the room. “I’m excited to announce that the administration has agreed to another tenured position in the history department… Our newest tenured faculty member is—” he smacked his hands on his thighs in a rapid drumroll “—Professor Wes Pashuk!”
From his place leaning against the back wall, Wes startled. He stared at the dean, and then at his colleagues, who applauded him.
“Oh my goodness,” he said. “I was not expecting this.” After making his way forward, he shook Dean Reynolds’s hand. “I am so honored.”
First the adoption, and now this. He hadn’t expected to get tenure for a few more years at least.
Wes expressed succinct words of gratitude to his coworkers before the meeting began breaking up. Most of his colleagues grabbed a slice of cake and returned to their classrooms, although a few hung back to congratulate him personally.
“The position includes a raise,” Dean Reynolds said, thumping him on the shoulder. “That should come in handy when that adoption comes through for you and your husband, eh?” He moved back without waiting for an answer, walking out with a university provost.
Wes’s boss meant well, but did he need to speak so loudly? Wes had worked hard to keep the news of his adoption journey away from prying ears. He’d told the dean, because his boss was one of his and Assa’s references, but he’d kept it private from everyone else.
Mostly because he didn’t want anything getting back to Lux.
Didn’t want anything getting back to the one person who knew he and Assa were poly, the one person who could put their adoption chances at risk.
Had Lux heard Dean Reynolds just now? He was still in the room, but at a distance away, so Wes couldn’t say for sure.
Lux approached him once they were alone. “Congratulations,” he said, tone flat.
“Uh, thanks.” Wes hitched his backpack onto his shoulder, preparing to make a beeline for the door.
“You know—” Lux stepped in front of him. “I’ve been here six months longer than you.”
Wes nodded. The thought had already crossed his mind. There were several professors in the department who had been aroundlonger than him. But Wes’s classes had the highest enrollment, and he was well-liked by students. He’d also published more journal articles than anyone else over the past four years.
He attempted to be diplomatic. “Yes, it probably could have gone to either of us.”
Lux huffed. “What a charmed life you lead, Professor Pashuk. Everything just falls right into place for you.”
“I am v-very lucky.”
“Mm.” Lux stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You have certainly been very lucky. Congratulations.”
With that, he turned and left the room. Wes stared after him, hoping he’d imagined the menace in his words.
***
Wes told Assa about the tenure, but not about the disturbing conversation he’d had with Lux. His husband was so happy about the adoption, and Wes didn’t have the heart to bring him down. Also, there was a chance he was wrong about Lux’s intentions.
But when Wes and Assa arrived on campus the following morning, it was clear Lux had acted on his bitterness.
They followed their usual routine of Wes walking Assa to the lab. As they crossed the main quad, Wes noticed sly glances directed their way. Students and faculty alike peeked up from their laptops and conversations, assessing the husbands before looking back down.
Wes upnodded one of the admins from the history department as they passed. The man turned away.
It didn’t take long for his husband to notice the charged atmosphere.
“I don’t mean to sound paranoid,” Assa said, “but does it feel like everyone is staring at us? Then pretending not to?”
