Page 203 of The Professor's Wife

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

The Same Morning

I woke up a half hour earlier than Oliver. I lay there, feeling strange. I rubbed my eyes, wondering what was wrong with me. I had a dream… But as I tried to remember it, I felt it run away.

Chase it.

I was in a dark place, but there had been a light flickering behind me. A light that made me turn around—

I frowned, unable to remember what I looked at in my dream. Unable to grasp the figure that stood before me. I only knew I was in a dark place, and I wasn’t alone.

Chase it.

That part of me urged me to remember, tochase it, but I shook my head, knowing there was no reason to hold on. Life was about letting go. Of hopes and dreams and an unchanging past. I blinked at the ceiling, unable to shake the hollowness in my chest.

Ignoring the sleeping figure beside me, I quietly climbed out of bed and slipped into my slippers. I trudged to the kitchen. The silence was interrupted by the intermittent clicks of the air conditioner and the constant low hum of the air purifier. I didn’t look into Rowe’s bedroom as I crossed it down the long hallway.

I stepped into the spotless kitchen and began Oliver’s breakfast. Like a robot, I air fried two strips of bacon and boiled one egg. I put a few spoonfuls of plain yogurt into a small bowl and sprinkled raspberries on top. I put two slices of multigrain bread into the toaster, ready to push down when it got close to serving. Then I removed the butter from the fridge and set it on the table with a butter knife at the ready.

“Smells good.”

His morning voice, gruff with sleep, cut through the air. A shiver raced down my spine. I stilled, trying to understand the cold feeling that bore into me upon hearing his voice.

I looked over my shoulder and smiled at him. He was working from home today, but he’d showered and dressed in casual slacks and a polo shirt. He came to me and wrapped his arms around me. His scent fell around me as he dotted kisses along my shoulder and neck. “You were already sleeping when I got home,” he uttered, biting gently at my earlobe.

I nodded. “I’ve been so tired lately.”

“Are you due?”

For my period, he meant. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “I am.”

“What are our chances?”

I spoke through the lump forming in my throat. “We’ll know soon enough.”

He let go and went about pouring himself coffee. I watched him from the corner of my eye, at his easy grace. There were no stiff movements or frown lines on his face. He looked peaceful and gentle today.

“I have a few meetings this morning,” he said, settling into his chair. I felt his eyes on me, watching my every move.

“Important ones?” I wondered, my voice high with interest.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Students.”

“Nothing too stressful then.”

“Shouldn’t be, except for Lucy.” His mouth tightened at the name.

I gave him my undivided attention now, recognizing the displeasure in his voice. “The girl that keeps sending you emails?”

He looked pleased that I remembered. “They began innocently.”

“And now?”

He shook his head. “Now I will be recording every encounter I have with her.”

I paused, shaking my head slightly at the strange feeling that washed over me just then.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing.