Chapter Thirty-Two


    Shay


    Dr. Merritt Reddy


    Associate Professor of Anthropology


    Office Hours, MWF 2 to 5


    I hold my breath as I stand in front of Dr. Merritt Reddy’s office. I’ve questioned my decision toe


    here dozens of times and nearly turned my car around on the interstate. I should’ve gone to George


    first, told him and let him decide what to tell his wife. But can I trust him to tell her the truth? If I leave it


    to him and he doesn’t tell her, I’ll walk around feeling guilty forever. She deserves to know about me as


    much as I deserved to know about her.


    I hate him for putting me in the position he did, but I refuse to hate myself. I need to do this.


    I lift my fist to knock on the wooden door, but it opens before I can, and I’m suddenly standing in front of


    the woman I saw George kissing in his front yard. Her long blond hair is tied back today, and the


    sses on the tip of her nose rise higher when she scrunches up her face in a frown.


    “Can I help you?”


    “Um, yes. I’m . . . Yes. Dr. Reddy, my name’s Shayleigh Jackson. I was wondering if we could speak


    privately?”


    Sighing, she rolls her shoulders back and presses her office door open, gesturing me inside. “I was


    going to get some coffee, but I suppose that can wait.”


    “Thank you.” My voice shakes and I fear I might throw up on the lovely blue and gray rug covering her


    office floor. So, this is what it feels like to destroy a family. I’m a walking, talking time bomb, and she’s


    just invited me into her office.


    She waves to the gray armchairs just inside the door and waits for me to sit before she takes the one


    opposite me. “You’re George’s PhD candidate, is that right? I understand you’ve really blown away the


    wholemittee with the work on your dissertation. George is very proud of you.”


    Bile rises in my stomach. She’s not making this any easier. “I’m surprised he talks about me at all,” I


    admit.


    “Oh, of course he does. George lives and breathes for his graduate students. You’ve been a bit of a


    passion project for him thest couple of years.”


    You have no idea. “Have you and he . . . been together long?”


    She smiles. “It’s all rtive, I suppose. We’ve lived together for ten years or so, been married for five.


    Our daughter is four.”


    I feel lightheaded, and the room feels like it tilts sideways. I gulp in air.


    “You look a little pale, darling. Can I get you some water?”


    “No, I’m fine.” I just want to get this over with. “I’m really sorry toe here like this, Dr. Reddy. I want


    you to know that I thought a long time before I decided toe.”


    She arches a brow. “Okay.”


    “Before I say anything else, I want you to know that regardless of what you decide to do, I don’t like


    being in this position. Family is everything to me. But I had toe.”


    She folds her hands in herp and studies me with a tilt of her head. “Maybe you should start at the


    beginning. You’re not making much sense.”


    Another wave of nausea ms into me, and sweat breaks out on my forehead. I close my eyes and


    focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out. “George and I have been . . .” God. I cannot say it. I can’t


    be the reason this family falls apart. Can’t be the reason this woman loses her husband or their child


    loses her father.


    Toote for that, Shay.


    She holds up a hand. “Before you do this, I want you to ask yourself if you really want to be the kind of


    woman who lies and maniptes to steal a married man who doesn’t even want her.” The kindness


    from her voice earlier is gone now.


    “What?” Heat zes in my cheeks. She thinks I’m here to tell her lies? In an attempt to . . . steal


    George from her? Does she know we slept together?


    “He told me you were being rather immature about everything.”


    What exactly did he tell her? I feel like they’ve beenughing at me behind my back, and it feels . . .


    ugly.


    Her lips quirk. “Darling, I’m not sure what kind of man you thought George was, but he’s happily


    married with a daughter he adores. He doesn’t want you.”


    “I’m so sorry. You have no idea how awful I feel, and I regret what I’m here to say, but it’s nothing but


    the truth.”


    She holds up a hand. That’s when I notice the ring on her finger. The ring I thought he’d gotten for me.


    The one he told me he was taking to his safe deposit box. Such a liar. “Stop. Please. My husband


    already told me that you threw yourself at him and he turned you down. And now you’re trying to


    rewrite history so I’ll—what? Step aside and you can keep him for yourself? Stop while you’re ahead.


    I’m embarrassed for you, and this whole scene is insulting to me and to my husband.”


    “I’m sorry. I . . . What?”


    “What do you want from me? Pity? Poor little grad student fell in love with her professor and doesn’t


    want to let him go.” She shakes her head. “He told me about you. How you’re so scared of what’s next


    that you’re looking for a man to take you under his wing. I think he made it clear that he will not be that


    man when you tried to take him to bed.”


    I feel like I’ve been pped, but at the same time, anger makes my nails bite into my palms. That


    fucking liar told his wife I tried to sleep with him. Is this some crazy dream? Am I still in bed with


    Easton? Maybe I fell asleep and only dreamed about making excuses to leave. Maybe I haven’t


    actually left for Chicago yet. But I swallow, lift my chin, and say what I have to say as clearly as I can. “I


    don’t know what your husband told you, but I’m only here because I thought you deserved to know the


    truth. George and I have been sleeping together. Untilst week, we were in a rtionship.”


    “Sure you were.” She sighs. “You’re a lovely girl, and I know why you’d be interested in my husband. I


    wasn’t surprised when he told me you came on to him. You’re not the first student to get romantic


    delusions.”


    My face is so hot, and I can’t decide if I’m embarrassed or angry or some other emotion that strikes in


    the middle of this Bizarro World alternate universe I’ve found myself in. She truly believes that George


    turned me down and I’m here because I’m jealous.


    “I know it can be intense to finish a dissertation, and I’m sure you’re dealing with a lot of emotions right


    now. But I’m not sure what you hoped to aplish by barging in here and trying to ruin a good


    marriage. Do you think this will make him want you?”


    I grab my purse off the floor and slip it onto my shoulder. “I’ll leave now.” I stomp toward the door but


    stop when my hand is on the handle. Slowly, I turn around. “If you knew the truth, if you’d listen, you’d


    be as angry with him about this as I am.”


    “Child—”


    “No. You don’t get to treat me like a little girl. I’m thirty years old. This isn’t about me having some crush


    on your husband. The problem here is that he never told me he was married. Not when he started


    sleeping with me. Not after. I didn’t know about you untilst week.” Her jaw drops, and I think I’ve


    finally shocked her, but I push past my mild satisfaction at that and keep going. “If you were wise, you’d


    hear me out. We both deserved to know the truth, especially considering he and I were having sex


    without condoms. By keeping the full truth from me, he denied me the choice that should’ve been mine


    to make, and now I’m pregnant with a married man’s baby.”


    “You’re . . . pregnant?” She’s pale. She actually looks like she might be sick.


    I shake my head slowly. I’m not done. “And by assuming I came here to lie, by assuming I’d go to such


    disgusting lengths because I want him, you’re only enabling a lying womanizer. Shame on you. If you


    want to believe him, go for it. Personally, I want nothing to do with him.”


    Something flickers across her face, but I’m too angry to analyze it. I’ve said what I needed to say. I’m


    done.


    Easton


    Me: Come over for dinner? I’m grilling steaks.


    Shay: Not tonight. I’m tired.


    Me: You coulde over and nap? My bed is pretty damnfortable if you recall.


    Shay: I just need a night at home.


    I want to ask if she’s sure everything’s okay, but I already asked that when she left my house this


    Exclusive content ? by N?(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.


    afternoon. I want to ask if the idea of Scarlett moving here is freaking her out, but I already asked that


    too. I want to tell her I love her, but I’m a little afraid that this time she might not say it back.


    Shay


    I got back from Chicago around nine and went straight to Teagan and Carter’s. Carter is helping Easton


    with the equipment setup in his new theater room, and Isaiah is visiting his grandmother. I knocked


    twice before strolling right into their house and sitting my pregnant, emotionally exhausted ass down on


    their couch.


    “Here. You look like you could use this.” Teagan emerges from the kitchen and hands me a bottle of


    beer.


    “No alcohol for me.”


    “Still the stomach thing, huh?” Shrugging, she returns the beer to the fridge. “Coffee?”


    “I’m actually trying to cut back on my caffeine intake too.”


    This shocks her. “You really must be feeling ill. But honestly, the coffee is probably harder on your


    stomach than the alcohol, so good call.”


    Her jaw goes ck and she lowers herself into the chair. “You’re pregnant.”


    Tears burn at the back of my eyes. I know if I speak I’m gonna open up the floodgates. I really don’t


    want to cry again today, so I just nod.


    “Holy shit.” She puts her beer down and rushes back into the kitchen. She yanks open the freezer. “Ice


    cream?”


    I nod again and watch as she fills tworge bowls with chocte peanut butter chunk swirl. My favorite.


    She doesn’t say another word until we’ve each eaten several bites. “Are you okay?”


    I’m sure she must have a thousand questions, but I’m so grateful she chose to start there. “Yeah. I


    mean, I’m getting there, at least.”


    She watches her bowl as she pushes a spoonful of ice cream around. “It’s definitely George’s?”


    “Wait. Is that what you want to do? Start over?” She shakes her head. “Why? I don’t understand.”


    Because I’m too ashamed to raise a married man’s child in front of my mother. Because I’ll do anything


    to avoid disappointing her like that. Because I can’t ask Easton to raise another child that isn’t his. “It


    wouldn’t be unexpected, would it? It’s what I’m supposed to do next.”


    “The only thing you’re supposed to do next is figure out what makes you happy.” Teagan puts both of


    our bowls in the sink before returning to the living room. “You didn’t answer my question. Is that what


    you want?” New chаpter av?ble on


    “I’ve spent thest eight years of my life working on this PhD. I’m a good teacher. I’m a grown woman. I


    can do this.”


    “Of course you can. I have every faith in you, but why move to L.A. if you don’t want to live there? Why


    leave your family?”


    “Because I can’t look my mom in the eye and tell her I’m having a married man’s baby.” I close my eyes


    and hot tears stream down my cheeks.


    “You didn’t know, Shay. Just exin. Your mom will understand.”


    “What’s that?”


    I meet my friend’s eyes. “The timing and logistics might be awful, but when I sat in the doctor’s office


    and she started asking me about my periods, my biggest fear wasn’t that I might be pregnant; it was


    that I might have something terrible wrong with me that would keep me from having kids. I want this


    baby.”


    She takes my hand and squeezes it. “Then start there, but don’t assume you have to leave. Your


    mother will love you and this child no matter what.”


    “And what about Easton?” My voice cracks.


    “I don’t know, baby. I think he’s the only one who can answer that.”


    “Will youe with me to my ultrasound tomorrow?”


    She pulls me into a hug. “I wouldn’t miss it.”