Page 207 of The Professor's Wife

Oliver didn’t return. I packed away the food into the fridge, read in my nook area, and then got ready for bed. The entire time I had a heavy feeling in my chest. All of this felt abnormal. Oliver was never gone like this, certainly not with the alarms down, either.

As I lay in bed, my eyes wide open, listening to the clock tick, I wondered if he had gotten into a car crash. Maybe he was dead. My heart jumped at the thought, but there was no way I was so lucky. Oliver was a safe driver. He never took risks. He worked out, ate well, and was determined to live to see a hundred.

He couldn’t hurt me if he was one hundred years old. It would be the only time my age would benefit me. I could outrun the bastard. The thought actually made my lips flinch, but just as quickly, it fell.

I wouldn’t survive long enough to make it to old age. I’d top myself before then. Easily. Without a doubt. I would take that fucking poison pill and eat it and smile at him as I swallowed it down, knowing he couldn’t control me after death. The most satisfying part would be seeing the powerless look in his eye as I did it. To see him helpless. Next to Rowe’s birth, to see Oliver lose his obsessive control of me would be the best moment of my life.

If the only way out was dying, I was going to go out with a fucking bang.

It was two in the morning when Oliver returned. I was still awake, but I lay completely still, listening to him as he moved around the bedroom. I didn’t turn to look at him. The smell of soil and sweat engulfed the room. I held my pillow tightly, wondering what he had been doing tonight.

Bathroom light temporarily flooded the room. I heard him kick his clothes off. The belt buckle fell with a clang on the floor. He groaned under his breath, sounding pained. The shower blasted a moment later and he swung the door, but it didn’t close the entire way because a slit of light still illuminated the room. I slowly turned around in bed and stole a glance toward the bathroom. I heard him wash himself. The water sloshed around him, and his breaths were ragged and uneven. From where I lay, I could make out the pile of clothes on the floor.

Filthy.

His jacket and jeans were caked in dirt.

I turned back around, determined not to keep staring. I stared wide-eyed at the spot next to me. I barely blinked, my eyes stung as I continued to reason why he was gone the entire day and back covered in dirt.

He finished bathing and stepped back into the bedroom. At least he was trying to be quiet. He moved around for some time, in and out of the bedroom. When he finally clothed himself and settled into bed, I forced my eyes shut, listening to his every movement and breath.

He didn’t sleep.

He didn’t know I wasn’t sleeping, either.

I peeked at times to see him. Unmoving, his hands clasped over his chest, he stared up at the ceiling like a demon in wait. Nothing in his features moved. He nearly looked dead. But his chest moved calmly, the only indication he was alive. His eyes never strayed from the spot on the ceiling, like he was watching something play out before him. His face appeared void andcold, but I could see his mind from where I lay. The wicked insidiousness of it, soulless and dark and inhuman.

Nothing made me more terrified than that look.

CHAPTER FIFTY

Oliver’s clothes were still sitting damp in the washing machine the next morning. They’d been in there for hours, so I had to run another cycle. Before I did, I rummaged through his pockets and found only the pulpy remains of a leaf.

I didn’t know why, but I let it rest in my palm for a few seconds and stared at it. Something about it made me cold.

Oliver got up at his usual time, though he was quieter than normal. He barely touched his breakfast and drank his coffee at the table with his laptop wide open. When I stole a glance at the screen, I saw he was going through his emails. He sent a lot of them to the trash.

“I’ll be going into school today,” he said after I’d cleaned up his plate and tossed out the food. “The summer program has filled up quickly, and the first class is this week. I think I’ll be doing my online lectures from the school from now on.”

“Three-hour lectures from the school?” I feigned a sad sigh. “Aren’t those evening classes, too?”

“From six until nine,” he confirmed. “But I’d rather be in a school space as I do it. It’s an accelerated class, so five weeks in total.”

I continued to sound unhappy. “I understand, Oliver.”

He paused. “I don’t like to leave you for that long, sweetheart.”

In order to play my cards right with this man, I couldn’t be too perfect. I had to slip up. Remind him that my lovefor him was the cause of it. He lapped that shit up and only tolerated it because it appeared like I worshipped him.

I twisted around from the sink and folded my arms, looking upset. “I hardly get you at all, even when you’re working from home. I haven’t been out of this house with you. You haven’t done anything with me lately, Oliver, even though you promised we’d have a getaway together.”

He nodded, appearing like that understanding husband, but all I saw was the man from last night, staring up at the ceiling. Oliver Black had been in his true form, and it was one of the most disturbing sights I’d ever seen.

“Things came up,” he replied, looking at me now with warm eyes. “I don’t like it, but I have responsibilities as a professor. The school counts on me, and these students need me.”

“Then you’re pulled away for seminars and research.”

“If I had a choice, I’d choose you. This is only temporary, Daisy.”