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“It’s math. It sucks. But you’ll get it. Want some breakfast?”
I nod gratefully, and Hudson walks into the kitchen.
I mutter a silent thanks that I have him, the way I always do when we speak like this. Whatever else is true, whatever else has happened, we’ve got each other.
I wonder what he’d say if I told him about the man I saw from the bus, if I explained how I can’t stop thinking about him and how I want his babies, a life, a future, all with a stranger.
* * *
Thank you so much, I type as I ride the bus toward the college. A light rain is falling, giving the dock and the sea beyond it a hazy look.I’ll take another look at the problem when I get home.It’s Della Jones, by the way.
I add the last part in case he didn’t save my number.
But then, the second I sent it, I wondered if I needed to. Was that a dork move?
Sounds good,Elias responds.Let me know if you need anything else. We can also arrange a one-on-one session if that would be convenient for you.
I sit back, closing my eyes, deciding this is the moment. Right here. The point at which I stop obsessing about the man whose name I’ll never know.
There’s enough to do with college, the restaurant, and occasionally, trying to sleep.
I arrive early, waiting outside the classroom with my phone in my hand. I don’t even have social media anymore. All the condolences became too much, so I deleted my accounts and haven’t created new ones yet.
But I stare anyway, a way not to make eye contact with my classmates.
Then a woman appears in front of me. “Hey.”
I look up. She’s a few years older than me. I’d guess she was tall and sophisticated in her blazer and smart trousers. Her hair is blonde, tied back in a tight ponytail, her features sharp but also friendly…
Like Jess was friendly?
It’s not fair comparing every stranger I meet to her, but I can’t help it sometimes.
“Hi.” I return her smile with an effort. “I don’t think we’ve….”
“No, we haven’t,” she says. “I’m Isabel. Or Izzy for short. Most people call me Izzy. I think we’ve both been doing our best not to make friends, so I thought…why not?”
Maybe because you’ll turn out to secretly hate me, want me to fail, and do something evil when I finally tell you no.
I leave that thought unspoken, reminding myself Izzy has problems of her own too, since she’s here.
“Oh, look,” Izzy says. “The gawp-a-thon has begun.”
“The what?” I ask.
She gestures out the window at the large green area.
At the man.Myman.
He’s walking through the college, his shoulders squared, his gaze aimed forward. His pale blue shirt clings to his muscular frame, the top button undone.
He’s getting closer, like he’s going to stalk in here, grab my shoulders and kiss me hard.
“They’re like high schoolers,” Izzy says, and I realize she’s talking about the circle of women behind the man, laughing and openly staring at him. “But I’ve heard he never notices. He’s too focused on his work.”
“He works here?” I whisper, breath coming too fast.
“You haven’t heard of Elias Strong?” Izzy says. “He’s the hottest man who’s ever lived. Everybody agrees.”
