Back to Willow (Back Series Book 1)

THIRTY

Coming to college without having to take Dylan to his school first feels as weird as it does good, courtesy of my dear brother, who decided to stick around for a few more days.

I have my suspicions as to why, though. He was concerned for me after everything that went down on Saturday.

“Good morning,” Ethan’s soft greeting startles me, cutting my thread of thought.

Right next to him, as usual, is Hazel. For the first time since I met her, she’s looking at me.

“Oh, hey. Hi—” I stammer when I look into his eyes. He looks concerned. “Good morning.”

Do they know? Were they outside? I can’t remember anything after my panic attack, but surely they didn’t notice.

“How are you feeling after everything?” he asks, confirming my fear.

They witnessed it. Taking a staggering step back, I cover my mouth. The embarrassment is intense as I look at Ethan and Hazel’s concerned faces.

“Hey,” he coos. “We don’t need you to tell us the whole story. From what we figured out, that is between you and that…guy. We just want to know how you are feeling.”

“Of course, she’s in bad shape,” Hazel tuts. “Johanna’s move was dirty and fucking low if you ask me.”

My head snaps up at the same time Ethan hisses, “Hazel!”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, it’s not our place–”

“Like hell it isn’t.” Hazel snaps. “She started by meddling. We’re only doing what’s right.”

“Still,” he insists. “You are causing unnecessary drama.”

What the hell are they talking about?

Then, Hazel’s expression changes from her usually angry to a sad one. “That’s what I would want if it was me in her place, anyway. I’d want to know.”

Ethan’s throat bobs as a guilty expression takes over. “Fine,” he concedes.

“She seems kind of obsessed with Liam, to be honest,” she comments with a roll of her eyes. “Whenever you aren’t there, it’s all she talks about, and as soon as she discovered you had a past with Liam, it got worse. When it came to your son, since they look alike so much, she’s been more determined than ever to put you on the spot, claiming he deserves to know the truth.”

“Which he does,” I sigh, agreeing.

“Well, she isn’t doing it for the right reasons. She’s doing it with the hopes that he’ll hate you so much she’ll have a chance because the poor man is still head over heels for you.”

“That’s–”

“Don’t even try to deny it,” she cuts me off. “You guys seem to have a shitload to solve, but can I tell you a secret?” She giggles when I nod. “That bitch doesn’t stand a chance!”

“Hazel!” I gasp, and Ethan chuckles.

“Who doesn’t stand a chance?” Johanna’s voice startles us, stunning everyone into silence.

My eyes widen when I notice Hazel’s mischievous expression, only to be pushed back by Ethan. “My sister,” he blurts.

“And you let her call your sister a bitch?” Johanna’s perfectly plucked eyebrow rises.

“Johanna,” I call before they can dig a deeper grave. “You called Liam to be there on Saturday?”

Our other two friends take a couple of steps back while I fully turn to face Johanna. Confronting people is not my thing, but she touched a part of me I will never let anyone mess with. My son.

After a long and awkward silence, watching her mouth gape, she admits, “Yes. I told you, he deserved to know.”

“And I told you I was working on it,” I grit. “It wasn’t your place.”

“Are you kidding me?” she snaps. “He is still so hung up on you, it’s ridiculous. For what? You’ve been lying and hiding your son from him this whole time. It’s obvious how much you’ve hurt him!”

“I don’t care what you think. It was my son’s birthday. Did you even think of him? How it would ruin his day? The impact it would have on him?”

When she fails to answer, I continue, “Of course, you didn’t. But I did. Because of that and many other reasons that are not your business, I was taking my time, yes. I was figuring out how to go about it because it’s not as easy as you think!”

“Tell her, girl,” Hazel hollers.

“Did you think about him? Growing up without his dad?”

The words fly out of her mouth, strong and heavy, feeling like a punch to the gut.

I messed up really badly. I know that, but if there is one thing I think about all the time, it’s my son. I make every decision based on him. What is best for him.

“I did. I always do. And that’s exactly why I left. You don’t know what happened nor what my reasons were. I hope you’re happy now. I need you to stop meddling with my life.”

“Alright, I’ll admit it.” She throws her hands up. “I hoped that by knowing the truth, I’d get the upper hand. To finally get him to get over you, close that door once and for all.”

“Well, I hope that ruining my son’s birthday and getting him to cry was worth it.” Johanna looks away, a sliver of guilt creeping in on her face. “I’ll be polite to you, but don’t expect me to act as a friend or hang out.”

Without sparing her a second glance, I turn around. “I’ll see you guys later,” I say to Ethan and Hazel.

“What? We’re going with you,” she exclaims, grabbing Ethan’s hand and following me.

Inside, there’s a little smile growing, but I act unaffected. I would never tell them who to hang around with or not, but knowing they are on my side gives me some sense of peace. While I’m now fully aware of how much I hurt Liam—and Dylan, too—no one else has the right to meddle, especially with how wrong her reasons for interfering were.

The rest of the day is tiring, with all of the projects piling up, Ethan, Hazel, and I end up spending the rest of the afternoon in the library. One late afternoon turns into five, and I’m not able to pick up Dylan from school on any of these days. god bless Jake.

By Friday afternoon, it feels like I’ve been dragging myself around with just enough energy to get things done. The only thought on my mind, as I walk up to the car, is cuddling with my tiny person on the couch until he falls asleep on me.

That is until the blaring ringing of my phone startles me. My eyebrows crease at the sight of an unknown number, but I still accept it.

“Hello?”

“Willow,” the familiar voice on the other end of the call sounds, sending my heart into a frenzy.

I thought I’d saved his number.

“Liam,” I sigh, anxiety creeping in.

“Are you free on Sunday?”

“Yes,” I answer. “Why?”

“Can we, uhm, spend the day together?”

“Oh,” I exclaim. “I—”

“With Dylan, I mean. I want to spend time with both of you. I want to catch up with you and get to know him…Uh…”

“I–yes?” Why does he always makes me this nervous? “I hope you don’t mind being just his—our—friend. Until we figure everything out and tell him. When we’re sure of things…”

“Yeah,” he rushes out. “Sure, sure. I’ll pick you up before lunch, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’m starting a double shift now. Well…see you on Sunday.” He hangs up even before I can answer.

The cold wind ruffles my hair, hitting my hot neck. It’s halfway into November, and it’s way colder than it was just two months ago, as autumn slowly is turning into winter. From the starry sky above, you wouldn’t guess we’re getting closer to the time of year when it rains the most.

A deep shiver erases the warmth that speaking to Liam had just created inside, reminding me that my car is across the parking lot, waiting for me. I rush to it, grabbing my key in the meantime to open the driver’s door.

The relief is instant when I get into the car, safe from the cold breeze outside. Sliding the key in the ignition, I twist it, revving the motor. Except, the motor’s sound starts with a weak grumble before stopping altogether.

“That’s not supposed to happen.” My eyebrows furrow while I try a second time.

Nothing.

What the...

After the fifth try, I let my forehead fall onto the wheel in frustration.

Like, really? From all the days this freaking car could break down, it had to be today? When I am the most exhausted?

It’s late and dark so trying to look under the hood is out of the question. Not that I would know what to look for anyway. A cab it is. There is no way I’ll stay here for another hour just to wait for the Insurance’s Assistance.

Just my luck.

Knock-knock.

The sound of someone knocking on the side window catches my attention. Dark eyes on a hard-featured face stare back at me.

Manually rolling the window down, I greet him, “Hey, Professor Adell.”

His expression hardens for a second but then relaxes. It’s probably because I keep addressing him by his surname, but I mean, habits can be hard to change.

“Hey, I was just leaving and noticed your car didn’t start. Do you know what’s wrong?”

I exhale, “I-I don’t know what happened. It’s not working.”

“Can you try it once more? Maybe by the sound, I can understand what it is?”

When I nod, he distances himself from the window and keeps a focused expression as I try to start the car again. Unsuccessfully.

He hums quizzically before motioning for me to do it again. I do so, but again, no luck. When he comes back, he perches himself at my window and looks behind the wheel where all the sticks for the lights and such are.

Oh. Oh!

Looking at him with widened and panicked eyes, Arthur twists one of the sticks, turning off the light I forgot about this morning.

With a chuckle, he says, “My guess is your battery died since you left the lights on.”

Like Liam likes to say: no shit, Sherlock.

But I pride myself in avoiding curse words—most of the time.

“Ah, damn. This has never happened to me,” I mumble, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t have any cables to boost my battery. Would you have them, by any chance?”

“No, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I wave it off. “I’ll scout the battery prices tomorrow. Thank you, Profe—”

“Arthur,” he grits out, cutting me off.

“Thank you, Arthur.” I give him a small appreciative smile.

“How are you going to get home, then?”

“I-I’m probably calling a cab.”

He frowns at my words and seems to ponder something before offering, “I could give you a ride.”

Oh.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to force you out of your way. You must be tired.”

“And you aren’t? You’re probably dying to get home as fast as I am.” His eyes crinkle with little lines as he smiles softly. “Let’s go.”

My hands get clammy and I start to rub them on my jeans, looking away in thought. It’s not that he makes me uncomfortable—he doesn’t. But he’s still my professor, and as much as I don’t see any ill intentions on his side, he knows so much now…

It’s embarrassing, honestly.

Does he pity me? Is he disgusted?

“Willow,” he calls. “It’s just a ride; it’s no hassle. Come on, you can take care of the car tomorrow. It’s getting late.”

“Yes, I—okay. Thank you.”

Gathering all my stuff, I get out of the car and follow him to his. While doing it, I look around. Other than a couple of cars, the parking lot is empty by now, and thank god it’s dark because even though this is just an innocent ride, I wouldn’t want anyone to see me getting in his car.

People can be cruel. I’ve seen it first-hand more times than I’d like to admit, and rumours about being involved with my professor are the last problem I need to add to my long list of existing ones.

Still, Arthur is slowly becoming a friend, I reckon. Everything I didn’t expect but surely appreciate. He is kind and understanding, much more than I could ever imagine. He’s respectful—well, since he stopped being an asshole anyway. And knowing the reason makes such a difference now. He was doing it to keep his distance, to protect his heart.

The passenger door opens, and I smile shyly before entering the car. It only takes him a few seconds to close my door and circle the vehicle onto his side. He starts driving right away, already knowing my address.

“How have you been since that night?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh, uh…” I stutter. “We worked things out. Well, most of it.”

“Was he mad that Dylan wasn’t his?”

Right.

“Well, I forgot to mention because it seriously hadn’t crossed my mind before but, he could be…though, I think it’s very unlikely,” I admit, avoiding his gaze.

“But you said—”

“Yeah, but there were these two times that the condom broke, and—” I cut myself short. There is no way I am telling him about this. That’s way too intimate. “Nevermind.”

“Still,” he presses. “It’s not fair. You got pregnant at sixteen. You went through something traumatic and had to raise him by yourself while he was partying his way through college.”

“Life isn’t fair,” I comment. “And it’s not his fault. We both were irresponsible, and well, I thought Dylan wasn’t his to begin with. But now, I have hope,” I whisper the last word, afraid that if I hold on to it, it will break me all over again.

“Hope?”

“Yeah, that Dylan is Liam’s. That my beautiful, smart, and loving kid is not a rapist’s son.” I choke out the last part and jump when his big rough hand engulfs mine.

“Even if he is, Willow, he is yours more than anyone else’s.” He gives me a fleeting smile before focusing back on the road. “Now, this might sound inappropriate, but I am saying this as a friend. Of course, he had to be beautiful, smart, and loving. It’s because he’s yours.”

My breath hitches, barely managing a thank you. He smiles, patting my hand before retreating his back to the wheel. We stay silent for the remainder of the drive to my house, taking only a few more minutes.

“Thank you so much, Arthur,” I tell him when we arrive. “For all of the help and understanding. For everything.”

“Any time, Willow.”