Madam was right—doms don’t always get it right.
My daddies really didnotget it right. Like, not even close.
And the question isn’t about whether I can forgive them, not really. Because I can forgive them but still choose not to have them in my life. And while my heart is screaming its demands at me, I can’t rely on it to help me make the right decision.
I need to gather more information. About them and about what I want for myself.
No more getting cold feet or letting opportunities slip by.
Action only.
My phone vibrates in my hand, still on silent mode, as Baxter Dining Hall comes into view.
Hudson:Kitten, if you could please come to my office after your class with Prof. Brown, I would like to return your journal to you. Let me know if you don’t remember how to find it.
With a stomach so full of butterflies that I’m not sure I can actually eat now, I enter the dining hall.
Well, I guess I’ll be putting my money where my mouth is and getting that information sooner than anticipated.
Chapter 72
Emery
That I managed to take notes during Professor Brown’s lecture is a minor miracle. What those notes say? I have no idea. While my hands were preoccupied with the typing, my head was thinking about everything that could happen in Hudson’s office.
And considering my only frame of reference for being in his office was that one time with Darcy…
Yeah, my thoughts have been chaotic. They swing from another ambush threesome to him meeting me at the door and wordlessly passing me the journal, but blocking any actual entry.
There’s also a chance that he’ll trap me in his office and force me to hear him out.
All three options sound crappy, if I’m being honest.
All three options have my body humming with anticipation, if I’m being really honest.
Now, I’m standing in the hallway outside of Hudson’s closed office door, knowing I want my notebook back—because if I can’t have my sketchbook, I can at least use my notebook—but not sure how to enter his office.
While the concept is a simple one, I don’t know how I want to execute it. Do I knock and wait for a response? Or do I go for the power move and open the door without any warning? Catch him by surprise and all that? Get in, get my notebook, get out.
I mentally huff at myself.
You are being ridiculous. And clearly procrastinating. Just go in already.
Aiming for the middle of both options, I step up to the door, knock and then turn the handle, gently pushing on the door, all while begging my lungs not to hyperventilate.
“Come in,” Hudson calls out, and I apply more pressure, opening it the whole way.
Instinctively, I glance at the couch by the door but find it empty. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed by the lack of a Darcy-shaped person or not.
“It’s just you and me,” Hudson says, answering my unasked question.
Slowly, I give my attention to him, but not before my gaze scans the room, taking in the details. Nothing has really changed since I was last here, not that I got a good look at the place. Everything is neat and tidy. There’s a bookcase along the far wallbehind his desk that has a few shelves of books, but the rest looks like smart-people knickknacks.
A shiny black and metal ball pendulum thingy.
A twisted glass sculpture.
A tall glass tube, filled with water that has different colored bubbles floating at different heights.
