Epilogue
University of Edinburgh library, a year later…
“Who is that?” A brunette American student, approached her blond English flatmate and slid sideways onto a chair. “Tell me he’s not a professor.”
“Unfortunately,” said the blond, “he is, alas, a professor.” She tried not to stare at the man at the other end of the table, but failed.
His face was pure perfection, except for the minor detail of an angry white scar that slashed across his face.
But it simply made him look…perfectly imperfect.
“Teaches History, Art History, and Italian. Oh, and some class on the Ottoman Empire.”
“I’m changing majors,” said the brunette.
“You cannot,” her friend snapped. “Apparently, there has been a rash of girls trying to get into his classes. They are completely full up. And the counsellors are positively snarky to anyone wanting to change any major to History.”
“I bet Italian’s not full.”
“Full. I already tried.” The blond tried to concentrate once more on her book.
“Ottoman Empire?”
She shook her head.
The brunette sighed. “How do you say perfect in Italian?”
“Perfetto,” said a red-head as she passed their end of the table and headed toward the professor. She leaned down and gave the guy a long, sexy kiss. Then she slid into a chair catty-corner from him and laced her fingers in his.
“Who does she think she is?”
“Has to be his wife,” said the blond.
“Oh? How can you tell?” Her friend glanced casually at the other end of the table again.
“Because she’s showing us the ring on his finger,” she whispered, then sat forward so her hair would cover her embarrassed face.
“Oh, wow.” Her friend hunched down in her chair and looked away.
“What?”
“Pregnant as a cow.”
The blond looked up through her bangs at the couple.
Mr. Perfection pulled out the chair for his wife who literally appeared to be hiding a basketball beneath her gray sweater.
He kissed her hand as she stood, then led her back toward their audience of at least two.
He glanced at the blond and gave her a polite smile that lasted a thousandth of a second, but it was long enough to jump start her heart.
She and her friend held their breath as the couple passed. The brunette sighed a bit too loudly. The wife turned back, and they froze.
To be tediously honest, the woman was as beautiful as her husband. Though she looked a bit odd when she mooed at them!
The blond literally died of embarrassment and dropped her head onto her book. After she was sure the couple was gone, she looked up at her friend and grinned. “I think she’s a freaking lucky cow.”
THE END
I hope you enjoyed reading Gaspar and Isobelle’s story.