41. NFWMB

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

nfwmb

ROMAN

EMERALD BAY UNIVERSITY

TUESDAY

“Oh my god, Logan’s texting me Frankie-updates,” Imogen sighs, handing me her phone. “He’s such a fucking busybody.”

LOGAN: Frankie’s getting donuts.

LOGAN: He's getting coffee now. Saw it on his Instagram story.

LOGAN: Iggy, I feel like I’m gonna puke.

My whole entire body is clenched, and has been since I put my feet on the ground this morning. I’m not really sure if I want to shit my pants or throw up. Maybe both.

“Ask him if his Highness is here yet,” I grumble, passing the phone back. “I hate having to wait this shit out, especially knowing the hammer’s coming down.”

There’s no escaping what’s about to happen, and no talking my way out of it. I’ve got it all meticulously mapped out in my head, right down to the screaming match Frankie and I are going to have. He hates being forced to actually act like HR, and that’s what’s going to piss him off the most.

“Roman, it’ll be?—”

“Sorry for the wait, you two!”

Frankie walks around the corner, a nervous smile etched on his face.

I turn to Imogen, who’s leaning against the wall, her hands curled into tight fists.

“Regardless of what happens, we’re getting through this together, okay?”

“I know.”

My heart begins to pound, and as Frankie digs his keys out of his pocket the edges of my vision start getting fuzzy.

“How was Aspen?” He asks, his voice a little pinched.

“Good,” the two of us reply in unison.

When I emailed him telling him we needed to talk, he didn’t say much. My first thought was that maybe Frankie already knows. Maybe we were too brazen at that dinner party and he caught on.

He opens the door, ushering us inside before easing himself into his seat and staring us down. I shut the door behind us, pulling out a chair for Imogen before taking a seat myself.

“So?” He sips his coffee. “What’s going on? Did something happen with a student, or…”

A nervous laugh tumbles out of Imogen’s mouth, and Frankie’s eyes volley back and forth between us. She clears her throat, but I stop her, putting my hand on her shoulder. The truth feels like it’s crushing my windpipe, but I have to get through this. I told her I would handle this; I told her that I would protect her.

“Imogen and I are in a… relationship,” I mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear. “We have been for a couple of months now.”

Frankie looks like someone twice his size just punched him in the gut. I can see each emotion hitting him in quick succession: shock, disbelief, anger.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he says after a moment. His tone is measured, but I can hear the anger tucked just beneath the surface. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Fear rises up in the back of my throat, threatening to choke the life out of me.

“No,” Imogen cuts in. “It’s true. We met two weeks before classes started, and…”

I’ve never prayed harder for a natural disaster in my life. Hurricane. Earthquake. A Biblical plague. I’d take anything to escape Frankie’s piercing gaze.

“Jesus, it’s been that long? And you didn’t say a damn?—”

“I didn’t know!” I snap, but when I see the anger flashing in his eyes, I pull myself back. “That’s not— I didn’t know she was my TA until— look, we met on that app you told me about. It didn’t have anything to do with the university.”

Frankie puts his head in his hands, groaning as I stammer on.

“There wasn’t a way to figure out anything about each other because we were using fake names, and after we went on a kind of blind date, we, uh…”

I clear my throat, trying to come up with a professional explanation for how a one night stand works to a man who looks like he wants to strangle me.

“Imogen, help me out here.”

“We hooked up in Seattle,” she finishes for me. “Again, I had no idea he taught at EBU, and he didn’t know I was a student. When we ran into each other at the mixer we were both mortified. Roman was adamant we should end things then and there.”

Frankie lifts his head, his face red and his expression strained.

“But clearly he didn’t follow through on that,” he mutters, eyes shifting back to me. “You know I hate being the fucking bad guy. I don’t want to be the bad guy right now. I want to say that I’m happy for you, and that this is all fine, but I can’t do that !”

Tension hangs thick in the air, and out of the corner of my eye I can see Imogen’s leg anxiously bouncing up and down, all while she stays deathly focused on Frankie.

“We didn’t mean to fall in love,” she says after a moment. “It wasn’t ever the plan.”

He closes his eyes, like hearing the word out loud makes him feel even more uncomfortable.

“Roman, you’re suspended. With or without pay is still up for debate, but you’re not to teach or publish until this gets resolved. You’ll have a disciplinary hearing in a month. Sooner if I can manage it.”

The ax is coming down and all I can do is accept it, but maybe this won’t be the worst thing in the world. It could give me a chance to focus on the things that really matter: Imogen, my culinary interests, going out to visit the ranch… all of the things I’ve been putting off because I was too busy not really living. It’s easy to go through life on autopilot, but I didn’t realize how much I’d missed in the last four years.

“Imogen, pending investigation you may be removed from the program?—”

“Oh, fuck that!” I suddenly find myself on my feet, towering over Frankie with my hands clenched into fists. “Don’t punish her for this. You’re mad at me , so take it out on me.”

“Roman, I don’t have control over university policies, and they clearly state that this is how things have to go.” He stares at Imogen, and I can see the regret in his eyes mixed with disappointment. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

She sniffles and I lean over, resting my hands on Frankie’s desk.

“Frankie, please don’t do this to her. She’s worked so goddamn hard to get here.”

He looks like someone has a gun to his head.

“Look, I’m going to try to make sure things are lenient for the two of you, but I don’t know how well I can fix this. You really fucked me on this one.”

I don’t know what I thought would happen, maybe that I could take the fall for the two of us?

“This could ruin everything she’s worked for.”

I look over at Imogen to see her staring at the floor, teardrops on her forearms.

“What if I just leave?” She murmurs. “Will Roman still have to be suspended?”

“Yes,” Frankie replies, his expression grim. “Keeping Roman on right now is a liability issue for the university, so the suspension and review are happening no matter what.”

She cares more about me than she does about her spot, and I care more about keeping her here than I do about my own goddamn future.

“It’s gonna be okay.” I kiss her on the temple, softly running my fingers through her hair. “I’ll make damn sure of it.”

This all could have been different. Frankie could be congratulating her for her presentation, and discussing how her dissertation is going. Instead we’re talking about the end of her career.

“I’m going to have to speak with the Dean and the graduate committee,” Frankie continues, all business once again. “I’ll be in touch with you both via email.”

“Sure,” Imogen whispers.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair as I usher Imogen out of the office.

“Wait outside for me, okay?”

She nods, brushing away tears as I shut the door.

Frankie leans back in his chair, shaking his head.

“I can’t fucking believe you.” He scoffs. “What’s worse is that I didn’t even see it. You know if you get fired, there’s a good chance you won’t be able to teach again, right?”

“I know,” I murmur.

He stares at me, blinking erratically, like he’s still trying to wrap his head around all of this.

“You know? So you just decided it was time to throw your career away?”

“It’s like she said,” I sigh, shoving my hands in my pockets. “We didn’t mean to fall in love.”

Frankie rubs his face, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I’ll cover your class, let them know you’re taking a leave of absence, and I’ll… I don’t fuckin’ know, make something up about Imogen I guess.”

Frankie sits there in silence, staring past me, and I take my cue to leave. When I step outside, Logan and Abi are already comforting Imogen, their faces somber. Other professors walk by, heading out for their morning classes, some of them shooting us quizzical looks as they pass.

I wrap my arm around Imogen, pulling her close as Logan’s eyes meet mine.

“What happened?”

“I’m suspended, possibly fired pending a disciplinary hearing. There’s going to be a full internal investigation, and Imogen could lose her spot in the program.”

“I, uh… I might transfer to another school. Maybe UW, in Seattle?” She looks like she’s still trying to figure a way out of this rat’s nest we’ve made. “Unless this all ends up branding me with some kind of scarlet fucking letter, at least.”

Logan’s eyes well with tears and I force a smile to keep my own chin from quivering. It’s strange to think I was terrified of this man finding out. I was convinced that Logan would hate me— or worse, hate her, but now he’s the one in our corner.

“Logan, I’m gonna drive her home.”

“Sure. I’ll be back there later tonight. Maybe we can all have dinner and…” He chuckles, at a loss for words. “Cry more?”

Imogen laughs, despite the tears in her eyes.

“That sounds good, but I want to clean out my things first. For when this all goes to shit.”

“Iggy…” Logan sighs. “It won’t?—”

“It will.” She rubs the back of her neck. “I know it will, but it’s okay. I can figure it out.”

I motion toward my office with one hand, doing my best impression of someone who still has it all together.

“I’ve got some boxes. We can pack your things and load them into my car.”

Imogen nods, and the two of us set off on our little mission while Logan and Abi linger in the hallway. Silently, we grab some empty boxes, trudging toward the tiny room she shares with some of the other PhD students.

We pack up books, stacks of papers, and even some pictures that Imogen has on her desk. I notice one of them is a photo of her and her dad sitting outside of NYU in the summer. He’s got his arm wrapped around her, and I can almost hear her distinctive laugh as she triumphantly holds up her acceptance letter.

“He was so proud of me that day.”

Her eyes meet mine, heartbroken and red, and a tear slides down her cheek as she plucks the photo from my hands, placing it into the box along with the rest of her happier memories.

“I’m ready now.”

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