Chapter 25
COLE
“Off the record, this is exactly the kind of trajectory we like to see,” Dr. Whitman said, folding his hands on the conference table between us.
“Strong teaching evaluations, a solid publication record, and your grant work has been consistently impressive. So I want you to know, before anything becomes formal, that the department will be recommending you for tenure this fall.”
I nodded, the practiced response kicking in automatically.
“I appreciate that,” I said. “I don’t take the vote lightly.
” Which was true. Tenure was the goal you worked toward quietly for years, the thing you didn’t say out loud until someone else did first. Dr. Whitman smiled, satisfied, already moving on to timelines and committees, to course reductions and long-term planning, speaking as if my future had just settled neatly into place.
And maybe it had.
That was the problem. Because instead of relief, what I felt was the sudden, unmistakable sense of a door closing somewhere behind me.
After the meeting, I hit the campus gym, pedaling faster on the bike than ever before.
Replays of my time in Italy with Juliette ran through my mind over and over again.
Parker reluctantly gave me her number, since there was little use hiding from him what he already suspected, in Milan on that last night. But I hadn’t used it yet.
Back in my apartment, my fingers twitched thinking about what I would type out. I’d waffled for days on whether or not to do this, but today’s meeting sealed the deal.
I get how incredibly prestigious your position is. But it doesn’t sound like it makes you intensely happy. And no room for glimmers?
I replayed those words nearly as much as I replayed our kiss.
One life, Cole. That’s all you get. There are no do-overs.
I didn’t have to make big life decisions today. It was just a simple text to someone I connected with in Italy.
I picked up my phone.
Cole
Guess who?
Jules
Is this old Cole? Or new Cole?
Cole
Which one would you rather?
Jules
Is that even a question?
Cole
Wonder how I got your number?
Jules
I’m assuming Parker?
Cole
Smart girl.
Jules
So how’s the city treating you?
Cole
Treating me pretty well today. I was just officially offered tenure.
Jules
And how are you feeling about that?
Cole
Mixed feelings. How’s Cedar Falls? How’s the story going?
Jules
So… random question. Do you ever feel like your brain just refuses to cooperate at the worst possible time?
Cole
Only when the stakes are high. Or when I tell myself I’m fine and very much not fine. What’s going on?
Jules
I’m stuck. Again.
I’m supposed to be knee-deep in a murder mystery and instead I’m staring at the same paragraph like it personally offended me.
Cole
That sounds serious. Have you tried threatening the characters?
Jules
I’ve tried bribing them. Intimidation may be next.
The problem is I know what happened. I just can’t figure out why yet.
Cole
Ah. Motive trouble. That’s dangerous territory.
Jules
Exactly. Everyone has an alibi, no one feels guilty enough, and my detective keeps circling the same clues without actually moving forward.
It’s like something’s right in front of her and she refuses to look at it.
Cole
That sounds less like a plot problem and more like avoidance.
Jules
Rude.
But… maybe a little accurate.
Cole
For what it’s worth, the stories that stall are usually the ones that matter most. The easy ones don’t fight back.
Jules
That is not comforting in the way you probably intended.
Cole
I’ve been told that before.
Jules
Still. Thanks.
I’m going to step away before I commit literary murder instead of fictional murder.
Cole
Probably wise. Let me know if the detective stops being stubborn.
Jules
If she does, I’ll take full credit.
Cole
Thinking about coming in this weekend.
Jules
Oh yeah? Any big plans?
Cole
If you include shooting the shit at O’Malley’s with the guys, yes. Very big plans.
Jules
Will you be in by Friday night? Beck is bringing someone in from Syracuse. An old college buddy or something like that.
Cole
Ah, that must be Jake Jones. One hell of a talented singer-songwriter. We had a bet on how long it would take for him to make it big. Played guitar at every party we attended for four years. I’d love to see him again.
Jules
Yep, that’s the guy. I’m surprised Beck didn’t mention it to you if he was also a friend of yours.
Cole
I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend.
Jules
Oh yeah, that’s right. You don’t make new friends.
Cole
Usually. Sometimes there are exceptions.
Jules
Such as?
Cole
Such as you, monella. And you already knew that.
Jules
I miss being called that.
Cole
What else do you miss from Italy?
Jules
That’s easy. I miss the Ligurian Sea, the food, the good cheap wine, limoncello spritzes. The list goes on.
Cole
I think what I miss the most is the croissants. And pizza, of course. Not things I let myself indulge in much day-to-day.
Jules
I’ll bring you some croissants on Friday. If you’re there.
Cole
I’ll be there.
Jules
Okay, cool. We can talk more about why you have mixed feelings on your ten-year plan, and I’ll pretend I don’t already know.
Cole
Too much to ask for you to go easy on me?
Jules
Definitely.
Cole
See you Friday, monella.
Jules
I stared at the screen longer than I should have, the city humming outside my window like it always did, indifferent and loud.
New York was good at that—reminding you of everything you were supposed to want.
The apartment. The view. The conversation I’d just walked out of, where my future had been presented as a done deal.
Tenure. Fall semester. A life that didn’t require reconsideration.
And yet the only thing that felt real was a woman a few hundred miles away, stuck in a story she couldn’t move forward because admitting the truth would change everything.
I locked my phone and leaned back in my chair, the decision already settled even if I hadn’t said it out loud yet. Friday wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t convenient. It was a choice.
Cedar Falls didn’t fit neatly into the life I’d built.
Which was exactly why I was going back.