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He shrugs and I follow him to the kitchen and watch him spoon ground coffee into the machine. I’m about to ask what the problem is when he blurts it out.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
I wait for the rest but he’s silent; just keeps making the coffee and won’t meet my eye as he fusses with the cups and the sugar bowl.
“Okay, about what?” I’m already exhausted as I brace myself for his inevitable self-doubt, for the speech about how he thinks he has it wrong. The submission committee at theJournal of Applied Number Theorywon’t accept it if there is any doubt about the validity of the solution. He knows that. And I have friends at MIT who could take a look now if he doesn’t want to wait that long. They’d sign a confidentiality agreement. This kind of thing happens all the time. He knows that, too.
“Talk to me, Alex. Don’t you want to publish it yet? Is that it?”
He snaps his head around. “My thesis? Of course I’m publishing it. Are you nuts?”
“Okay, good to hear. So what are we talking about?”
He’s smiling as he thinks about it, then his features harden until his mouth is so taut that when he speaks again, he can barely move his lips. “You’re not gonna like it.”
Jesus. He really looks bad. When did I see him last? Two weeks at least.
He pulls out a letter from his back pocket and hands it to me. I hesitate, then take the envelope from him between two fingers, trying not to stare at his filthy fingernails. “What’s this?” I’m about to pull out the single sheet of paper from it when he speaks.
“I’m going to publish it alone. The thesis, of course, but also the research paper.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I don’t want you to co-author it anymore.”
I almost laugh. “This is a joke, right?”
His hand shakes as he handles the coffee, and some of it spills onto the table. My first instinct is to grab a kitchen cloth and clean it up, but I don’t.
“I’ve thought long and hard about it,” he says. “It’s mine.”
A wave of outrage flares through me and I grip the envelope tighter in my fist but then tell myself to calm down. I take a breath and let it slip from my fingers. He doesn’t mean it. He’s panicking about something. There’s no need for me to do the same.
He leans against the window ledge stirring his coffee with a spoon, a breeze from the partly open sash window behind him ruffling his hair.
“Come on, Alex, I helped you, you know that. You couldn’t have done it without me.”
He smirks, rudely. “Are you listening to yourself? Ididdo it without you, Anna. You were there, in the room, and that’s about the extent of your contribution.”
“You know that’s not true.” I think of all the hours I spent with him, poring over his work, trying to grab hold of the slimmest gossamer thread that we could tug and unspool into the light. I think of all the times he despaired and wanted me to hold him until it passed, the times he would sob on my shoulder like a child while I whispered soothing words to him. He told me once that I was much nicer than his own mother.
Thinking back on it in this moment, I realize something I didn’t want to confront then, but I may have to now. Alex is unhinged.
I think of that night when I called him at almost midnight. I woke him up and he was annoyed because it was the first time in weeks that he’d had a few hours’ uninterrupted sleep. Until I called, that is. But I’d had that sliver of an idea and it was enough for him to get unstuck. It was the final, missing piece of the puzzle. We had the solution.
I put all this to him now, through clenched teeth. “You don’t remember that? Really, Alex?”
He smiles from one side of his mouth. The arrogance dripping from his sneer makes me want to slap him.
“Do you honestly believe you made that much difference? You’re not that good, Anna. It’s you who is trying to ride on my coattails here, not the other way around. And, anyway, I told you. I’ve thought long and hard about it over the last few weeks, and—”
“Weeks?You’ve been letting me do all this work on the paper for the last fewweeks?”
He shrugs. “So? Give me an invoice.”
“Alex! What are you saying? You can’t do this!”
“Get over yourself. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to your career, even without your name as co-author. You were my advisor. You’ll get lots of accolades from that. And your precious university will get its reward, just because I was your PhD student.”
