33. Cedric
33
CEDRIC
I t’s amazing how far silence can take me. A few people have talked to me—the department's dean, the faculty dean, and the president of the college. No one has formally said anything or brought any reprimand.
And then, Sofia’s video happened. Her authenticity once again pulls me into the way she creates a story. She’s made her project a love story. Our love story.
It’s beautiful.
It makes me miss Sofia even more. I haven’t seen her in days, haven’t talked to her except in short text exchanges, and when she asked for us to give her a little time and space, I had to give it to her.
Even if it has left me with a hollow feeling in my chest. I know that if Sofia wanted to end things, she would simply do it.
Still, it’s difficult for me to refrain from texting her every hour, calling her to hear her voice. Early in the morning and before bed are when the urge rides me the hardest.
I’ve never been this attached to a woman before, had friends quite like Braxton and Orion before. Forged from a mutual relationship with said woman, from affection and the need to care for her.
We haven’t contacted each other, either. It’s the smartest move, but it still leaves me with a new emptiness I didn’t have before.
Normally, at this time of the day, I would be shooing Sofia from my office or house to get on with her classes. But I canceled my classes today, providing my students with online assignments to keep them busy.
I don’t want them to see me hiding, but I’ll only turn into an asshole if I step foot on campus right now.
Yet, I dress as if I’m going in to work. I don’t really know what else to do with myself.
I want to go to Sofia.
Three days is too long without her.
I’ll tell her so when I see her. Whenever that is.
I’ll repeat what I sent her in text right after the premiere, that I should have done more to protect her. That I’ll take the fall for everything. That I will do whatever needs done to keep things from getting worse for her.
But I should have known better than to think she needs me for any of that.
Her strength and her character are what drew me to her to begin with.
Pacing and drinking a second cup of coffee, I wait. It’s the only thing left for me to do until she’s ready to talk. I rinse my mug in the sink and sprawl across my couch.
I’m in a hell of my own making.
My phone buzzes across the coffee table.
Her name pops up on the screen.
Meet me at my townhouse.
My heart beats double-time.
I’m on my feet immediately, grabbing my jacket and keys and jogging out to my car. She doesn’t have to tell me twice.
The drive takes a little more than five minutes. Early morning traffic settles to an easy flow.
Once parked, I’m ready to run to her, but I slow as I see Orion getting out of his car. Braxton must not be far behind.
I nod to Orion. He looks about as disheveled as I feel, golden curls a mess, bags under his eyes. The T-shirt and jeans are a far cry from the suit he usually wears to work. Although I know the blowback is worse for him somehow. No tenure. A new hire. A history of inappropriate relationships with students.
It sucks because he held no sway over Sofia.
Only I did. And that was minimal at best.
I tuck my hands into my pockets. “How are you holding up?”
He shrugs. “Been to a lot of meetings, but they haven’t made a final decision yet. Pretty sure I’m done in academia.”
For some reason, that doesn’t sink his shoulders any further. Orion looks up at the door to Sofia’s place. Her absence has made him this way. Worn him down. Made him suffer.
Me, too, bud. Me, too.
It takes another minute for Braxton to pull up, his hulking form slow and steady as he approaches. The sad determination in the man’s eyes says it all. No need to stretch this out.
I lead us up the steps of her stoop to knock on her door.
There’s a colorful wreath there, like she’s taken the time to decorate for the upcoming holidays. A decent enough distraction for her and her son. Where is he now? With her father?
The door opens to reveal Sofia’s bright blonde hair, gathered back from her face. Her cheeks are a rosy pink, eyes sharper than ever.
But she’s dressed in a baggy T-shirt and sweats. Very much not the usual Sofia that I’ve come to know. Unless on top of everything else, she’s on her period.
Thankfully, she has no dark spots under her eyes. And the small amount of tiredness she displays could easily be from the normal end of semester crunch.
How many hours did it take her to edit that video? To scour the hours of footage she’s amassed over the semester? Even narrowing down to the times she knew we were all together, that amounts to days and weeks of raw footage to comb through.
My instinct is to reach for her, but I don’t.
She waves us inside, and although it’s not the first time I’ve seen the place, I’ve always been far too distracted to give it a good examination.
Clean, white, but nothing about this place is sparse. Kids' toys are piled in the corner. Some items spread across the floor out of the usual walkways. Her couch is a deep burgundy that makes her skin flush by proximity.
The open kitchen behind the living room is equally clean and white, although more fruit is split between two bowls on the counter than I’ve ever kept in my kitchen. More signs that her life is not just her own.
She has to consider her son, too.
I’d be a fool to think otherwise.
“I need you three to have a seat because I have something I need to get off my chest.”
Fuck . My chest tightens. My muscles protest as I lower myself onto the big, billowy cushions beside Braxton.
She’s going to end this now, isn’t she?
I’m not sure I can take it. At least, not well. I rather think this might be the first thing to ever break me.
Closing my eyes briefly, I open them to meet her gaze. I don’t want to go out like a coward.
No, what I want is to order her to spread her thighs to let me lap at her core until my heart is content.
I can’t do that, either.
The silence stretches, and my muscles tighten, ready for this to blow up in my face.
God, if this is how I make others feel, I’m certainly paying for it now.
Sofia sucks in a long, deep breath. Her gaze drops to where her fingers tangle together in front of her.
Her words blow out with a gust of air that has me missing what she says.
Or is that the ringing in my ears?
I blink at her for a few seconds before they register.
“I’m pregnant.”