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When she had seen that he also wanted her to speak with families whose members had once suffered from HIV and eventually died of AIDS, she had initially balked, thinking it was too much, but then he had pulled her close, brushing his lips against her forehead as he displayed his hitherto unknown skills in cajolery.
Do this for me, please, he had whispered ever so beguilingly, and that was it.
She had meekly gone on to do his bidding, and by the time he had dropped her off at university, his tender kiss on her cheek was enough to have her floating away in a daze of happiness.
It was only when she was alone in her dorm room, like now, that she found herself torn between rapturous joy and strangling anxiety.
There were times when all she could do was remember the moments his lips touched her skin, and her toes would curl so hard because she remembered them so vividly. And oh sweet heavens, but so much had changed now, and these days, he seemed to be kissing her every chance he could get.
Before entering and leaving the car. Before entering and leaving his house. Before entering and leaving the room.
Those were the moments that her heart felt fit to burst with happiness, and oh God, if only her whole life could be made up of just those moments.
But it was not.
Because what made life more beautiful was the ugly moments, and there were times when those were all she could think of. Times when it was deep in the night and, with only the silent darkness to keep her company, she couldn’t help remember the moments that turned love into the most agonizing form of pain.
She had once asked him why he had never tried kissing her before, and the professor had said simply, Because it didn’t feel right.
Touching you…kissing you…
When you hadn’t any fucking idea of what I have inside of me…
Those moments were ugly alright, but oh God, it was also those moments that proved how ludicrously good the professor was at breaking her heart and piecing them back together. Over and over, he would do it, and he always did so at the same damn time.
They would be working on her thesis, and he had this way of saying her name…
They would be in the middle of class, and he would have this way of looking at her…
Oh, Saint M.
If their first week together was of Diana falling for him, then this week was of her falling even harder.
I love him so much.
Because there were just so many those important little things…
The brush of his knuckles against her cheek, the drift of his fingers down her spine…
So, so much.
With every single thing the professor said and did, he just had this way of making her feel like she alone was what he had been waiting for.
And that’s why I’m so scared, too.
His entire life, he had been waiting for her. Just her.
I don’t want to lose him, Saint M.
Because as bittersweet and beautiful the past week had been, they had been just as brutal as well, with expert after expert telling Diana in not so many words they thought the whole thing was doomed to fail.
His accountant had looked at her like he believed she was only with his employer for the money, and while the size of the professor’s personal fortune had indeed been a surprise, Diana had also been hurt and incensed on the professor’s behalf. So much so she had her own accountant come over and let everyone who cared to know her own wealth could match Matthijs’ penny for penny.
Petty or not, she needed everyone to understand she was with Matthijs because she loved him.
Diana had said as much when she was confronted with the same amount of skepticism from Matthijs’ lawyer. But while Arthur Folsgaard was less obnoxious than the accountant, he had been a lot more cold-blooded and mercilessly blunt.
My client expressly forbade me from doing this, but since I’m being paid to look after his interests and not yours…
She had taken the piece of paper Arthur offered, which turned out to be what he wished would comprise of her sworn legal statement.
I have not been forced or coerced in any way…
I am fully aware of the illness that Mr. Matthijs de Graaf was diagnosed with…
I entered into a consensual relationship of my own free will…
She had signed it on the spot, and sensing Arthur’s surprise, she had said simply, “I’m in this for the long haul.”
But if she had thought the words would impress him, it had the opposite effect.
“Bravo, Ms. Leventis,” he said mockingly. “You’ve just proven to me what I suspected.”
“I truly love him—”
“Maybe you do and maybe you don’t,” Arthur had cut her off flatly. “Either way, loving someone is no excuse to be an idiot and not think things through.” He had then dealt Diana a contemptuous look, saying, “You think you know what you’re in for, but you don’t. You think it’s enough that you’ve read up on things, but it’s not. You can never give Matthijs a blowjob unless he’s wearing a condom. Taking medications will no longer be an option. It’s a necessity, and if you miss a single dose, your life can fall apart in a blink. And what of the future, and you suddenly find yourself wanting a child of your own – you really think you won’t resent him for preventing you from being a mother? You say you’ve thought this through, but I don’t think so. I think you haven’t thought of this at all, and I think my client’s making a big mistake, trusting you to stay with him until the end.”
