“I can handle gossip.”
“This isn’t only gossip,” she said. “It’s your reputation. Your work. Your students. And if they decide there’s something inappropriate between you and him, it won’t matter whether they’re wrong. People will believe what sounds interesting.”
Her words settled heavily between us.
“I’ll handle it,” I said, though even I could hear how thin it sounded.
Giselle’s face softened again. “I know you want to look like you have everything under control. You always do. But please don’t underestimate this. Whatever is happening with him, keep it away from the corridors.”
I swallowed, my gaze dropping to the phone still lying facedown on my desk.
“I’m serious, Edwina,” she said gently. “Be careful.”
I nodded once because I did not trust myself to say more.
Giselle lingered near the door, her hand on the handle. For a second, I thought she might ask about Hayden again. Instead, she only said, “I’m here if you need me.”
Then she left. The silence that followed felt heavier than before, filled with everything I had not said and everything people had already begun to imagine.
I sat down, my gaze moving to my phone again. Hayden’s messages were still there, unanswered, carrying the weight of the presence I had been trying to avoid since the moment I walked into the building. For the first time, I let myself admit what I had been refusing to face.
Avoiding him was not helping. It was making everything worse.
By the time I finished my lectures, the day had drained more from me than I wanted to admit. Nothing had happened outright, yet the tension followed me from room to room, through conversations, classes, and the small tasks I forced myself to complete. When I finally gathered my things, I paused before opening the door, already aware of what waited beyond it. The hallway. The lowered voices. The looks that lasted a little too long.
Giselle was waiting outside. She pushed herself away from the wall as soon as she saw me, her expression softening with relief. There was something comforting about seeing her there, something familiar enough to pull me out of my own head.
“You’re coming with me,” she said, her tone light, though her face made it clear she would not accept an argument. “We have a birthday to prepare for.”
A breath slipped out of me, and for the first time that day, something inside my chest eased. Tomorrow was Helena’s birthday. Despite everything Hayden had disturbed, that truth remained untouched, simple, and mine to protect.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, though there was no real resistance in my voice.
Giselle’s lips curved as she linked her arm through mine and guided me toward the exit.
“No,” she said. “And you wouldn’t take it even if you did.”
I did not argue. She was right.
Daniel was waiting near the entrance when we stepped outside. He looked up as soon as he saw us, and for once, the normalcy of it helped. He greeted us without pressing for answers or studying me as though he expected the truth to fall out of me if he looked long enough.
“You look better,” he said.
“I feel better,” I answered, and this time, the words did not feel as difficult to say.
We walked together through the streets, surrounded by the familiar signs of December. Lights had begun appearing in windows, decorations filled shop displays, and the city seemed to be preparing for the end of the year in its usual way. For a while, it helped me breathe.
Tomorrow was Decemberfifteenth. Helena’s birthday.
The thought settled inside me with a warmth no part of my life could ruin.
“She’s going to love this,” Giselle said as we moved through the store. She reached for decorations before I could even decide where to start, already focused on colors, ribbons, balloons, and all the small things Helena would notice first. “The timing is perfect for a birthday.”
“She’ll be happy,” I said, letting myself believe it.
Daniel added a few things to the basket without hesitation, moving beside us as if this had always been his place in our lives. He did not overstep. He never did. He simply helped, never making me feel like I owed him anything for it.
We spent the next hour choosing decorations and party supplies, building Helena’s day piece by piece. Balloons, candles, wrapping paper, paper crowns, little plates with stars on them because she loved anything that sparkled. For a while, I letmyself focus on that alone. The colors. The plans. The image of Helena walking into a room made just for her.
