She spots me, and gives me the look. The you better get over herelook, but I’d already been plotting my escape. I understand that I’m required to stand for some of this conversation, I’ve put in time, I gave my speech and played along with Eli when he needed me to. I’ve done a solid for the department and now, all I care about is getting back to him, explaining why I didn’t tell him, apologizing, and letting those big words I just laid down between us actually settle.
I want him to know I mean it, that it wasn’t a device Iused to hopefully draw him back. It was an impulsive admission, one that came out of me reacting in an emotionally charged situation.
But still, I meant those three words.
I drag my hand over my face, and set down my brand-new unfinished drink, lowering it to a small standing table nearby. Interrupting the reporter, Eli, Dr. Pratt and Dr. Morganstern, a visiting lecturer from our sister campus, I tell them the truth. “Thanks so much gentlemen, but there’s someone I need to find. Someone waiting for me.”
Dr. Pratt shakes my hand, and Dr. Morganstern follows. Eli smells Pratt’s interest in me as a future replacement for the department head. It’s likely part of the reason he came back, that he’s acting like we’re so close. He thinks it will curry favor.
I don’t care about anything related to Eli at this moment. Or the symposium. I gave my talk the way I told Pratt I would. I took the asked photos and met the people. I’ve jumped through the hoops the university laid out. I’m done.
All that matters now is Cade, and making him understand.
Weaving through the crowd, my heart pounds with the need to reach him before the doubt he’s likely feeling takes root too deep.
I find him, next to Tara, her hand on his forearm, gentle eyes set on his face. His face, which I can’t see because he’s facing her. Cade follows Tara’s nervous gaze, turning, hisblue eyes landing on me as I make my way toward them,toward him.
He slips away before I can catch him, disappearing down the side hallway that leads to the quieter wing of the university’s large lecture hall. I follow, my dress shoes echoing against the polished floor, my heart going twice the speed. I should have told him, I just… I didn’t. And it’s my fault. His feelings and everything he’s experiencing are my fault.
The sheer volume of people at this symposium has left the space full of hot, heavy air despite the AC working overtime. I loosen the tie at my throat, feeling like I can hardly breathe as I speed up even more. When I round the corner to the final hallway off the lecture hall, I see him. He’s there, at the end of the hall with his back pressed against it, arms crossed tightly over his chest like armor.
But his head is down, and his glasses dangle from one hand.
“Cade,” I say softly, approaching slowly. He looks up at me, and the pain and devastation in his eyes wreck me. Twists up my insides with a steel fist and yanks them clear out of me. I reach for him, but he turns to avoid my touch.
Our eyes lock.
When he speaks, the words tumble out raw and unguarded, each one slicing through me.
“I understand being embarrassed. I understand even… being ashamed. There’s a lot of things I understand when given the opportunity.” His eyes drop to his hands, where he uses the end of his tie to clean his glasses. He slides them back on, and it’s the Cade I know, only a hurt version that I created.
“I know. And I am very sorry I didn’t tell you.” I swallow and find a knot of panic in my throat.
“I held your hand in public at school, Noah.”
“I know.” I reach for him again and this time he lets me take his hand, but he doesn’t hold mine in return. He merely lets me waffle my fingers with his. I start telling myself that it’s a good thing, because if he were mad enough–if it was that bad, he wouldn’t even let me touch him. Right? “Cade, I really just… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be uncomfortable for you at work, you know, knowing he and I were together.”
Cade looks up, and the pain lining his features has me stepping a little nearer, grabbing his hand a little more tightly. “You mean, you didn’t want it to be uncomfortablefor youat work. To have to deal with the outcome of me knowing.”
I shake my head, because that isn’t true. Not at all. “No, that’s not true. I just, I’m aware of howdifficultand new all of this is for you. And I thought, if you knew that my last serious relationship was with a senior in the department, someone tenured—I just thought that might be too much for you.” That is the truth. And by the way he’s searching my eyes, I know he believes me.
But happiness doesn’t creep over his frown. His eyes do soften, but with sadness, not relief. I stroke my thumb over his hand. “I’m sorry. And I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I planned on telling you but honestly Ijust… I’m just so into you. I’ve been just… obsessed with you. I’m sorry I didn't tell you, and I was going to but you have to believe me, there’s nothing between me and Eli. I can’t stand him. It’s you that I want. It’s you, all you.” That’s true, too. This time, I can’t tell if he believes me, and nausea swims up my throat, making me swallow.
His eyes hold mine, and I wish so badly he’d nudge his glasses up. Give me some sign that the Cade I know is in there. He lifts his chin an inch, and rolls his neck with a pop. “Do you miss being with someone that isn’t difficult?”
I blink. “What?” Quickly, I run down the last few things I just said, and realize what he’s referring to. “I didn’t mean that you’re difficult. I meant that all these things you’ve learned about yourself must be hard to process. I didn’t want to add to it.”
He nods his head, but his eyes fall to his feet, and he’s never done that before. Ever.
“Jesus, Cade. Look at me. I’m getting scared.”
Then I wish I wouldn’t have asked him to look at me, because when he does, his eyes are wet. Tears don’t spill free—but there’s so much pain in his expression, I hate it, I hate what’s happening.
“I believe you, about all the reasons why you didn’t tell me that Eli was your ex.” He pinches his mouth with his thumb and forefinger, blinking thoughtfully at the leather shoes he’s wearing tonight. His eyes return to me, and I’m not even breathing now. Just standing in wait. Panicked. “And it shouldn’t be like that. You should be able to tellyour partner about your past without him having an anxiety attack or… breakdown.”
I don’t understand what he’s trying to say. Of course, I hear him, but there’s subtext in that speech, and I can’t find it. I can’t concentrate at all, in fact. “What are you saying?”
He shrugs. “I’m saying that you should be with someone with more experience. Someone… like Eli.”
