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I head directly to the English building and take the elevator to Clover’s office. Her door is ajar, and she’s already at her computer. It looks exactly the same as it did the last time I was here. But everything was different then—the boundaries hadn’t shifted yet. The cranes I’ve left in class are now sitting on the windowsill. I don’t want to read into that, but it’s hard not to.
Her hair is down, falling in loose waves around her shoulders. She’s wearing black pants and a long, tunic-style shirt, topped with a pink cardigan. She looks gorgeous. And tired.
I knock on the door, my stomach in knots.
“Come in.” She rolls her chair back as I step into her office.
“Morning, Professor.” I’m on the fence as to whether it’s a good one or not.
“Why don’t you close the door and have a seat?” She motions to the chair beside her desk.
I do as she asks, glad I left my backpack in my truck so I feel less like her student and more like her equal. “I’m going to be totally honest and let you know my memory of last night’s call is pretty foggy.” I grab a tissue from the box on her desk and start folding it even though it’s not great for origami. “Did I do or say anything I shouldn’t have?”
“No.” She shakes her head, and her gaze shifts to the side. “Why is your memory foggy?”
“I might have had a few drinks.” I tap the arm of the chair. “Did you say anything you shouldn’t have?”
She circles the rim of her coffee cup with a single finger, her focus there. “I called you, and I probably shouldn’t have.”
“Because I’m still your student.”
“Yes.”
I don’t think it’s worth pointing out that I won’t be for much longer. It’s a sticking point with Clover, and while I’d like it to be different, I get why it’s not. “I probably asked this last night, but as a refresher, why weren’t you honest about your ex not actually being your ex?”
She folds her hands in her lap, and her bottom lip slides through her teeth. “I’m waiting for him to sign the divorce papers. We haven’t been a couple for almost a year and a half, so I don’t consider us together, or married, even though he does.”
“Is he someone I should be worried about?”
“In what sense do you mean?”
“He was at your place yesterday morning and again in the evening. I saw his car when we drove by on the way home from my game last night—not on purpose either.”At least that time. I set the finished crane on the side table and grip the armrests. “And I’m sorry I ran by yesterday. I was on autopilot and not thinking about the route I was taking, not consciously anyway.”
She nods, as if she’s putting together the pieces of last night’s puzzle. “He said he wanted to talk yesterday morning, and I wouldn’t make time for him, so he took it upon himself to show up again in the evening. I had hoped he would sign the papers, but that wasn’t on his agenda. I became frustrated, and so did he. He enjoys playing mind games, but I’m not concerned for my safety. My annoyance level is another story.”
“What kind of mind games?”
She picks up the crane and settles it in her palm. “He likes to twist words and actions. He’s very good at manipulating.”
“It doesn’t make me happy that he’s showing up at your house unannounced, then.”
“That makes two of us. If I felt unsafe, I would say something, but I’m more frustrated than anything else.”
“Okay.” I don’t know that I feel any less on edge than I did before I walked through the door, just for different reasons now. “I’m not big on playing games, Clover, so if I’m waiting on the end of the semester for no reason, just tell me.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds before she says softly, “I don’t play games either.”
“Okay.” I push out of the chair. “Not long now, and we can stop doing this dance.”
She smiles faintly, even as her throat bobs with a nervous swallow. “Good luck on your finals.”
I open the door and check to make sure the hall is empty before I leave her office. I guess we’ll see how it all plays out once my grade is handed in.
* * *
A few days later,I’m sitting at the kitchen table, reading over my final story for my creative writing class one last time and shoveling cereal into my mouth when Lavender walks in. I expect Kody to be two steps behind her, but he isn’t.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” I ask as she opens the cupboard and pushes up on her toes, trying to reach the Lucky Charms. I’ve intentionally pushed them back so they’re hard for her to get to.
