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“You’re accusing me of lying?” He steps away and paces the small classroom.
“Yes! You’re not the same man I met in Cambridge. That man wouldn’t treat me so callously.”
He runs his hands through his hair, grabbing at the strands. “Because I thought you were someone else, Meghan! I thought we were colleagues.”
“Why can’t you see I’m the same person, Julian? The only thing I was dishonest about was my age. Everything else was real.”
His face softens and his hands drop to his sides. For a moment, I think he’s going to forgive me, and briefly, I fantasize about his arms wrapped around me tightly and his lips rebranding mine with his searing kiss.
An idea comes to mind. It’s a risk, but it’s worth taking. My mouth opens and I speak the one word I hope will turn things around.
“Daddy.”
Julian’s head pops up and his eyes widen. “What did you say?”
“Daddy,” I repeat.
His nostrils flare and he turns away from me to pace the room, his face constantly changing with emotion until, at last, he stops and bangs his fist down on the desk.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because I still want you, and if there’s even a chance you feel the same, then I’m going to take it.”
I wait for the angry outburst. Instead, his words are soft.
“I’m sorry, but I’m nearly twenty years older than you, Meghan. Had I known the truth this summer, I would’ve stayed away, which is exactly what I’m going to do now.”
Out of frustration, I stamp my foot. “You’re acting as if I’m some underage teenager, Julian. I’m a grown woman.”
“No, you’re not. A twenty-one-year-old girl is just that: a girl. And I don’t get involved with girls for any reason.” Julian steps forward and slips one hand around my waist, leaning forward slightly and brushing his lips against mine. “I’m sorry, Meghan. Truly.”
In the blink of an eye, he’s gone, and my heart cracks open.
