Shatter (True Believers #4)(60)
Author: Erin McCarthy

It felt sinister, like my mood.

I couldn’t believe that Kylie had broken up with me. Sure, she said it was a break, space, time, two months. Fuck two months. Fuck all of it. Good relationships don’t need a break or space. A break is a stop on the road to never seeing each other. It’s a pause where you feel free to f**k other people. Then you attempt to get back together and it’s all awful, it’s misunderstandings and baggage and bullshit and f**k that. Fuck it.

I kicked a rock with my boot.

My whole life was falling apart. My father was a pervert. He was also my advisor so there would be scrambling to redo my thesis panel. How was I supposed to tell my mother? It was just disgusting. Now I knew there was no way I was going to stay at UC for my post-doc. There wouldn’t be any point.

In the past few months, I had re-envisioned my life multiple times and I was sick of having to readjust, picture new realities. I wanted to know where I was going, what I was doing. Who I was doing it with. If I were honest with myself in the past few weeks I had been allowing myself to picture that future that Devon said guys like me weren’t supposed to want. Settling down with Kylie. Having a family.

I started to call her again then stopped myself.

It had only been two hours, not two months.

How could she stand the thought of going two whole months without speaking, without seeing each other? I already felt lonely, empty. My arms already missed her. I was already spinning logical arguments I could present to her.

But she didn’t want me to be logical to her.

She wanted me to proceed with my life as I had been planning to before I had met her that night.

I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to prove.

And as I sat on the steps of the Corryville church-turned-rental-hall, I knew that it was impossible to stand in that same spot with the same motivations and knowledge. Everything had changed that night she had walked into the coffee shop with her pink fuzzy scarf wrapped around her neck and when she sent me that text about having my ion you. I couldn’t undo any of the emotions our relationship had created. I couldn’t just wipe it clean and go back to being the guy who was only thinking about himself when he thought about his future.

The date was even on my arm.

It had changed everything.

And now she didn’t want it. She didn’t want me.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

What I learned was that I could be alone but not lonely. I still preferred the company of my friends and my family, but if I had to be alone in my apartment, I didn’t feel depressed and like I needed to text and call and crank up music. I found that it wasn’t such a frightening thing, being alone in my head, with my thoughts. I found that sometimes I even had interesting things to tell myself.

I also found, in those weeks after Jonathon hung up on me, that I was stronger than I thought I was as I threw myself into studying and recovering my grades. When I told Jessica I was amazed that I could be so strong, she laughed.

“Kylie, you had your ex cheat on you with one of your best friends and you recovered. You got pregnant and were fully prepared to make that work. You lost your baby and your boyfriend and accused a professor of sexual harassment and you’re still here, smiling. You’ve always been strong even if you do it wearing a cute outfit and mascara. That’s you.”

And I actually believed her.

Even when the nights were long and quiet.

Even when the equations swam in front of my eyes as I tried desperately to understand chemistry and when I typed on my laptop late into the night on my essay for my British Literature class, words running together.

Even when the university interviewed me for hours about Professor Kadisch and the police were called.

Even when they suggested that I had an interest in ruining his career because he was flunking me.

Even when I got no texts from Jonathon, which, despite what I had told him, I desperately wanted.

Though I did get a phone call from his mother, who asked to meet with me. I had no idea what she wanted but I said yes, of course, too curious not to. We met at a Mexican restaurant right off campus and as soon as I walked in, I recognized her. Jonathon actually looked more like her than he did his father, and I felt an affinity toward her because she was the one who had raised him, nurtured him into the man he’d become.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you,” I said, sticking my hand out. “I’m sorry, I just realized I don’t know your last name.”

“It’s Fagenbaum, but please don’t be formal. Just call me Debbie.” She smiled warmly at me and squeezed my hand, gesturing for me to sit down across from her.

I dropped my bag on the floor. It was spring and I was wearing flip-flops with my skinnies for the first time, a decorative scarf my only concession to the fact that it was still only sixty-five degrees.

“Jonathon didn’t lie—you are very pretty,” she said with a smile. She had salt-and-pepper hair in a pixie cut and it was very flattering.

“Thanks,” I said, wondering why I had never made an effort to meet her when Jonathon and I were dating.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you here. It’s not to interfere, honestly. Whatever you and Jonathon are doing is your own business, though I do feel comfortable saying that I think you were good for each other.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Mostly, I thought she was right. “I just needed to be sure, you know, that Jonathon didn’t feel trapped by me. That this is what he wants.”

“Oh, it’s definitely what he wants. You’re all he talks about.”

My cheeks felt warm. “He talks about me?”

“Constantly. But that is for the two of you to discuss, not you and I. He doesn’t even know I asked to see you.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, and I accepted the water the waitress brought me right then. “Okay.”

“I wanted to say that I’m impressed and proud of you for blowing the whistle on Ben. It takes a brave girl to stand up and say what her professor is doing is unethical and inappropriate and I know it’s been a huge headache for you.”

Immense relief washed over me. “I wasn’t sure how you would feel. I felt horrible turning him in, but, honestly, I didn’t want a girl to find herself trapped or pressured or feel like she had to either drop the class or do what he wanted.” Professor Kadisch had been suspended for the rest of the semester pending the investigation and Jonathon’s mother was right—it had been time-consuming and embarrassing at times as they had picked through my texts and cell records, including that penis picture. Once they had gone through Professor Kadisch’s phone and computer, they had found I was not the only student he was talking to, which was shocking and made me glad I had gone ahead with contacting the university.