Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“Had to get out of there too?”
Adonis stepped out from the stacks. Picking up my feet, he made room for himself, joining me before the window. For a while, we didn’t speak.
“Sorry about tonight,” I said. “I didn’t do a very good job being your buffer.”
The corner of his mouth tugged up. “It wasn’t your job to be my buffer, Luna. If it was, you’re owed a substantial fee. No one silences my father. Even so, I noticed you and Victor trying. I appreciated it.”
“It’s just so silly,” I burst out. “John Wilson has a successful, hardworking, independent living son and all he cares about is that he can’t control every aspect of your life. The time we have with the people we love is short. Why do we waste it on stupid, petty drama that’s never worth it in the end?”
“We’re human, Luna. We learn every lesson when it’s far too late.”
I gazed at him, noticing the moonlight reflected in his eyes, though I knew I shouldn’t. “Did you really think my paper was terrible?”
“I did,” he admitted. “I don’t now.”
“Why do you pretend you don’t know me?”
“Excuse me?”
“The paper.” I drew my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them. “You say you forgot the first time we talked about Winter, but now you know what happened. You know that essay about Mean Girls was really written for her, but you pretend you don’t understand me, so you can call me shallow and demand more than I have to give. Why do you do that?”
Adonis sighed, looking away. “I don’t know you, Luna. Not in any special, particular way. You’re not separate from my other students who I grade with impartiality. Can’t you see the issue? I can’t grade you based on drunken talks and inappropriate games of ask-me-anything in my office. We’ve crossed enough lines, Luna. I’m not the professor you praised downstairs if I let myself cross anymore.”
“That’s why you have to be so rigid and serious whenever I walk into a room? We can’t be the first student and professor to have a friendly relationship. Sure, we won’t go out and get our nails done together. But we can talk about things—real things,” I whispered. “The stuff that only people who know true loss can say to each other.”
Adonis’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “No, Luna. We can’t.”
Hurt and anger flared in my chest. “What are you so afraid of?”
He gave me a long look. “Is that your final question?”
For a second I didn’t know what he meant. “No,” I said. “My question isn’t a question. It’s a request. Read me something you’ve written, Adonis. From the magnum opus. I want to know what the world looks like to you when it’s stripped of lies.”
“Hmm. I’ll never know what to expect from you, will I?”
Adonis turned to face me, pulling out his phone. I held my breath as he scrolled through the screen, not daring to believe this was really happening. He was going to read to me. Share his work for my comment and judgment.
“I saw you through the window this morning,” he began. “Flowers in your hair, your shoes sprinkled with dew. I saw you through the window and I was there. Transported to damp sheets and a wheezing fan, I counted the strands curling around my fingers, marveling that each one got to be with you every day. They got to kiss your shoulders and tickle your cheeks.
“My gift was to hold you that one night, spending our time together in envy at the sun who’d steal you away and the sheets that’d remember your smell longer than me.
“My boss waves his hand in front of my face. Spittle dotting his desk as he yells my distraction is further proof I’m slipping. My work isn’t what it was. I can’t concentrate. I’m ruining everything that I’ve worked for. He orders me to pull myself together or consider this the end. I should care, but I can’t.
“Because I looked out the window, and there was you.”
My lips parted and fate stole the words off my tongue, leaving me speechless. What could I say in response? I didn’t have the right to comment or judgment. I didn’t have the right to question his marks on my papers. Nothing I would ever write would be worthy of him.
“That was beautiful,” I whispered. “Did you write it for Catalina?”
“No, Luna.” Trapping my gaze, he tucked his phone away. “I didn’t.”
My heart pounded loud in my ears. I should leave, walk away, go back to Victor. There was nothing more Adonis and I needed to say to each other in a darkened room, sitting alone. He was right. It was because we would one day be brother- and sister-in-law that right now all we should be is teacher and student.