Chapter 49

The stares and whispers are rampant, and I pull the lapels of my wool coat tighter against my body as I focus my attention on the cement path, wet from this morning's dew.

"That's her, Adrian Scott's sister, right?"

"Do you think she really fucked Professor Anderson?"

"What does he see in her? She looks so average."

I try not to pay attention to them, to the students huddled in groups, their cell phones pointed at me, no doubt trying to take photos to post online or sell to gossip rags. Nausea swirls in my stomach and I feel an urge to cast up the cup of coffee I had this morning, the only thing I could stomach before I had to go to the appointment.

To meet with the dean. To tell my side of the story.

Security has increased in the neighborhood. The four campus gates are now locked down to prevent undesired visitors. Adrian sent me a driver and told me under no circumstance was I to walk or take public transportation anywhere. He wanted to assign me a bodyguard too, but I told him no. The press is vile, but not violent. And I don't want my life to change even more than it has already.

My phone vibrates in my coat pocket, and I take it out and stare at the incoming message.

Not him. Of course, not him.

Grace

We'll get through this, Millie. Hang in there. We're always in your corner. You're a fighter, remember that. You got this.

Belle

This will blow over soon. I know the media. Once the next scandal breaks, they'll forget all about you.

Taylor

The damn vultures. If you let me, I'll give them a piece of my mind. And by the way, I have more goodies. I've stocked up in case you run out. Just let me know. Five pints of ice cream and all the gummy bears you could ever want are waiting for you.

I sniffle as I stare at the texts from my girls. Their unwavering support and love. I don't think I would've survived the last two weeks without them.

Just as I'm about to put away my phone, another text comes through.

Adrian

I've taken care of the major newspapers. They won't be running stories about you anymore because I've promised that they will be the first to know once we're ready to give a statement. Gossip Times is next on my shit list.

Adrian

I know you've told me not to fly over there, but that's not going to happen. After I get back from my business trip to London, I'm coming over to New York whether you like it or not. I worry about you, Millie. Let me see you, okay?

I was afraid Adrian was going to fly off the handle when the sordid stories came out, but he was surprisingly calm about everything, going first into damage control mode, which was what I'd expect The Shark to do. It's what makes him good at his job.

But I know my brother. He's no doubt beating himself up for not preventing these events and is probably seething over Ryland. It's better I see him in person before he does something to Ryland.

Millie

I'm fine, I promise. But if you want to come, I won't stop you. I miss you too, Adrian.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I quicken my pace to the tall white building. The Ivory Tower is what we call it amongst the students. Ignoring more pointed stares and whispers, I make my way to the dean's office.

His assistant, a redhead with sharp eyes who looks not much older than me, gives me a quick nod and says, "Dean Emery is expecting you inside. Good luck."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I knock on the door.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in."

I blow out a deep breath, square my shoulders, and push open the door.

Dean Emery sits behind his large desk, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He glances at me and closes his laptop before clasping his hands on top of the table. "Have a seat, Ms. Callahan."

Nodding, I sit down across from him. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I think we have things to discuss, don't you agree?"

My pulse is thready in my ears. "I-I'm assuming you want to talk to me about Professor Anderson."

He dips his head in acknowledgment. "I know you've already spoken to a few of my staff members, but I want to hear the story from your side. But before we speak, please note everything we say here will be reported to the Ethics Committee. There's an open case based on the alleged accusations made by the press."

I twist my hands on my lap. I know what I say next will have far-reaching effects on Ryland's future. Teaching means so much to him. It's the little slice of freedom he gives to himself. To take that away from him will be the worst cruelty, and he's such an excellent professor.

Despite everything, I need to protect him. Because I know the man won't protect himself. He is punishing himself enough as is.

"What do you want to know, Dean Emery?"

"Is there any truth to their allegations? Are you two involved?"

Fisting the hem of my sweater, I force myself to look up and stare at the shrewd gaze of the dean. My heart pounds inside my chest.

The world isn't in black or white. It is in shades of gray.

"Professor Ryland and I are good friends. Our families run in the same circles. My brother-in-law, Steven Kingsley, is engaged to Professor Ryland's younger sister, Grace. I think because of this relationship, the press may interpret certain actions as…"

"Unseemly?" The dean straightens up.

"Yes."

"So, you deny any romantic relationship between the two of you?"

Nausea coils inside my stomach and I clench my fists on my lap. "Regardless of what the allegations are, Professor Anderson has never given me preferential treatment in class. In fact, he was quite antagonistic with me at the beginning of the honors program. I think others in the class can attest to that."

Sweat beads on the back of my neck. Not lies, but not the whole truth.

"That's not what I'm asking you. Are you or are you not involved with Professor Anderson?"

"Do I admire him? Like him? Yes, I do, along with plenty of people at this school. But who wouldn't? That's why you hired him, right?"

"How do you explain the photos, then?"

"I've looked at this so-called proof before and the photos are so blurry, they may or may not be of him carrying a brunette. We did dance together at The Orchid, but like I said, our families run in the same circles."

He narrows his eyes at me and I hope he doesn't call me out on my evasion.

I forge on. "We've done nothing wrong and impacted no one. Forgive me for being rude, but these last two weeks have been extremely stressful for me, but I am not admitting to any wrongdoing."

"So, you are saying there's nothing untoward between the two of you?"

I stand up and look him straight in the eyes. "I'm saying there's nothing inappropriate in terms of the guidance I've received in class, nor has there been any preferential treatment."

"How do you know that? How can you guarantee that not to be the case?"

Heat rises to my face and I lean forward, a courage I didn't know I had coursing through me. "My grades speak for themselves, Dean Emery. You can review my academic performance before his class. They are all stellar because I've worked my ass off to achieve them. So no, there has been no preferential treatment, and my successes are my own."

Dean Emery remains silent, his face pensive.

My blood boils in my veins, and the next words pour out of my mouth. "The university would be making a big mistake by punishing Professor Ryland for any alleged relationship."

Tilting my chin up, I stare at the man who has the ability to crush the dreams of the man I love.

And I can't let him do that.

I will protect his dreams.

"The Andersons are an influential family and are known for their philanthropy and charitable donations, especially in their funding toward educational institutions." I hold his stare and his eyes widen at what I'm not saying aloud.

"Any family that famous is bound to have unsubstantiated rumors from the press every now and then. Professor Anderson is an excellent businessman and an even more brilliant professor. Please tell the Ethics Committee that. I like to think they'll make the right decision."

A knowing glint appears in the dean's eyes, and his lips twitch. "So, you are saying, Ms. Callahan, you deny all the allegations."

"Nothing untoward has happened in his role and guidance as my professor. He's an excellent professor, and if you don't believe me, you can poll the class or check out his ratings on the Rate My Professor websites. I have nothing further to add."

Dean Emery contemplates my answers, and the room is silent except for the sounds of my breathing and the ticking of my watch, but I force myself to remain still.

"You're in love with him," he murmurs. This is a statement, not a question.

My eyes burn as tears threaten to break free. A lump forms in my throat.

"He doesn't love me back." I let out a shaky sigh. "And that's what matters."

Because if he loves me, he wouldn't be doing this to me. He wouldn't be leaving me to deal with everything alone.

But I'm a fighter, and I'll fight for him, even if he doesn't deserve me.

"Very well, Ms. Callahan. You may go now."

Adrian buries his face into his hands, his fingers tugging his thick dark hair as Emily, his wife, and Steven's older sister, comes back from the kitchen with a tray of hot tea. We're in Dad's apartment on the outskirts of the city for a long overdue family meeting.

Emily smiles and mouths, "You got this," before retreating to the kitchen, no doubt to give us some privacy.

"God, I'm such a colossal failure," Adrian groans into his palms. "How the fuck did I miss all of this? I thought you were stressed because of school because I know how hard you push yourself to get the best grades possible."

He lifts his head and stares at me with those startling sky-blue eyes of his. "And the entire time you were out here, dealing with this all by yourself? Falling in love, getting your heart broken by that bastard," he seethes, his eyes flashing in anger. "I'm going to break every fucking bone in his body."

"Adrian, no, that's not what happened. I told you before, if anything, I was the one who pursued him."

"He should've said no! He's my age! He should've known better!" Adrian stands up, his jaw clenching. "Why didn't you tell me, Millie? Why didn't you talk to me?"

"I knew what we were doing was wrong…so I kept it a secret," I whisper.

I clasp one trembling hand on top of the other and look at him and Dad, who is sitting silently in the armchair near us, his head hung low.

I've disappointed them.

A weight settles on my chest. It's the feeling I've tried to avoid for so long because I want everyone around me to be happy.

But then I think of what I told Ryland when he confessed about his guilt toward Maxwell. I told him the people who loved us would want us to be happy.

And I realize I've been preaching something I don't practice, and I'm the worst culprit out of everyone.

The heaviness increases, smothering my lungs. I want to deflect, to paste on a fake smile, to do everything I used to do, so I can see the smiles of relief on the faces of my loved ones.

But I won't hide anymore. Perhaps the whirlwind is over between Ryland and me, but I'll live. I'll survive and be stronger. A fucking damn fighter.

And I'll be honest for once.

"And frankly, I've gotten used to holding in everything for most of my life. I couldn't tell you or Dad because I couldn't stand to see either of you being worried about me!" The words rush out from my lips, smashing open the box holding all my secrets inside for so long.

My nose crinkles and my voice is hoarse, but I continue, "After Mom died, neither of you have been the same, and I don't expect you to be."

I look at the kind man who has tried his damned best to raise us as a single father while navigating an unfathomable loss. "Dad, you were buried in your cups for those first few years and Adrian and I were worried sick about you. We lost one parent, and we couldn't lose you too. So, I had to be good. I had to be happy. I had to come home and tell you only the good things and never the bad."

Dad's eyes shine with tears and his lips tremble. I want to take back the things I'm saying because I know they're hurtful, but I persist.

"And then one day you started getting out of bed earlier. You ate breakfast with me. Sometimes, you'd take me to the park. I'd hear your laughter. And I knew I needed to do whatever I could to keep that smile on your face. Don't you see? I couldn't tell you anything! I was so afraid you'd slip back and be depressed again."

Swiveling my head toward Adrian, I choke out the next words. "And Adrian, you were so angry at the world. You couldn't see the beauty of anything around you. You only saw darkness. You were driven by the need to take revenge against our grandfather for abandoning Mom, leaving her with no means to get the proper health care. And you had broken up with Emily at that point and were just in such a dark spiral."

I let out a ragged sigh. "You couldn't even help yourself. How could you help me? A little girl so much younger than you, someone who needed her mom as well! And now, you've finally found your happily-ever-after with Emily."

Placing my hands on his, I say, "I've never seen you so happy before. The light in your eyes. Your smile. I love you, brother, and I never want you to feel guilty about the past because you didn't cause it. It was just a tragedy. A shitty game of dominos. You've been through enough. You've taken care of us the best you could. I don't see the need to burden you anymore with things you can't change."

The room is silent, and the mahogany grandfather clock, still marred by the long scratch I carved into the wood accidentally as a ten-year-old, ticks loudly in the corner.

I blow my nose in a tissue and turn toward them again.

"I know now I should've told you guys because we're a family and families support each other. I'm sorry."

Adrian growls and crushes me to him. His voice is rough as he rasps, "No, I'm the one who should be sorry."

He exhales. "I'm so sorry, Millie. So sorry you had to deal with everything alone because you thought we weren't strong enough to handle it. I should've done more. I should've gotten my head unstuck from the sand and looked at you. I should've noticed."

His eyes are glassy as he swipes a tear from my cheek. "From now on, promise me, if you encounter problems—work, academics, men," he scoffs at the last one, "you come to me, okay? I promise you, I'll listen. You never have to hide from me."

"Francine would be so proud of you, little Millie," Dad says, his eyes red. "Your strength, your positivity, your fearlessness are all from her."

He walks over and wraps us both in a hug. "I love you so much, and like your brother said, I'm so sorry for neglecting your feelings for so long. I should've done better and I need to do better. Please forgive me." He presses a kiss on my temple.

I let out a wobbly smile and stare at the two men I love. The two men I know will always be on my side, no matter what.

Perhaps romantic love won't work out, perhaps the whirlwind has ended, but true family will always stay with you.

That night, in the peaceful quiet of my childhood bedroom, I sit on top of my twin bed and stare at the dark skies outside the window. There's a blanket of smog in the air tonight, hiding the stars behind an inky backdrop.

I wonder what he's doing right now.

A fresh torrent of blood seeps out from the open wound in my heart, a wound I suspect will never be healed.

Placing a sheet of stationery on top of my hardcover copy of Wuthering Heights, I stare at the floral design with a tiny yellow bird perched on a branch. I uncap my pen and write.

Dear Ryland,

There's not a day that passes by without me missing you. Sometimes, it'll be seeing the fresh yellow daffodils at the florist or even something as mundane as smelling the scent of oranges. I walk around campus and imagine the dark shadow of you storming down the courtyard or in the halls, your energy sucking the oxygen out of every space you occupy. The other day, I saw these curious birds, a blue one with a purple sheen, and I thought of you then.

Do you think of me? Do you miss me like I miss you?

Despite everything—the press, the gossip, the finger pointing and furtive whispers from strangers on the streets—I don't regret anything.

Being with you was the happiest time of my life. It was the only time I truly felt seen, heard, and understood. And I realize I'm also culpable to our circumstances because I haven't been honest with the people around me as well. And it's time to change that, to be true to myself for myself and also for the people who love me.

My only regret is, because of me, you may lose everything you care about.

A relationship takes effort from both sides. Both of us have to be invested in our tomorrows and perhaps, because I'm so madly in love with you, I haven't realized the imbalance in our relationship. I always wanted more, and yet, you were always more reserved.

I won't ask you to give me another tomorrow anymore. I won't force you to make this decision for my sake.

I only wish for your happiness because you deserve to live for yourself. Freedom is at your fingertips. You just need to reach for it.

Love always, Millie

Clutching the letter close to my chest, I stare into the starless night, thinking of him, the man I'll miss with every breath I take.