Chapter Twelve #2
The words followed me even after I moved past them, slipping under my skin before I could push them away.
I told myself it did not matter. People talked.
They always did. By tomorrow, they would find another rumor to hold on to.
The thought gave me no comfort. Because this was not only about them or their whispers.
It was about Hayden and me.
I reached my office without stopping and closed the door behind me, careful not to let it slam.
For a moment, I stayed there with my hand on the handle, letting the silence settle around me.
It should have felt like a wall between me and everything outside.
Instead, it felt thin, breakable, and far too easy for the world to reach through.
A message waited on my phone. I knew who it was before I looked.
Mr. Bad Decision
Come to my office.
My fingers tightened around the phone as I read it. The message was simple, direct, and somehow still carried the same authority Hayden had always used so easily. Even through a screen, he knew how to make a command feel inevitable.
I set the phone down without answering.
Another message came a few minutes later.
Mr. Bad Decision
Edwina.
I stared at his name until the screen began to dim. Then the third message appeared.
Mr. Bad Decision
If you don’t come to my office, my little Flare, you won’t like the fucking consequences.
My pulse jumped despite myself. I locked the phone and turned it facedown on the desk, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
Instead, I tried to work. I opened my laptop, pulled a stack of papers closer, and forced my attention onto anything that did not have his name attached to it.
It did not help. My thoughts kept slipping back to Hayden, to the way he had looked at me, the things he had said, the questions he refused to let die.
A knock came at the door. Before I could answer, Giselle stepped inside and closed it behind her. One look at her face told me she had not come for small talk.
“I was going to call you again,” she said, walking closer. Her eyes moved over me with clear concern. “You disappeared yesterday, ignored my messages, and missed class. That is not like you, Edwina.”
“I wasn’t feeling well,” I said. The lie came out too easily, which somehow made it worse.
Giselle did not look convinced. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
She folded her arms, watching me for a moment. “Is this about him?”
The question hit too close.
“No.”
Giselle’s expression softened, though the worry did not leave her face. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I know that. But you do need to understand what’s happening outside this office.”
I looked away. “People are talking”
“Yes,” she said, her voice tightening. “And right now, they are talking about you and Dean Stone. They have noticed you going to his office. They saw you leave yesterday. Someone mentioned the parking lot this morning too.”
My stomach dropped. “The parking lot?”
“I don’t know what they saw,” she said quickly. “That’s the problem. They don’t need the truth to make a story out of it.”
I pressed my lips together, saying nothing.
Giselle stepped closer, lowering her voice. “This place feeds on things like this. It starts with whispers, then suddenly people are repeating versions of your life you don’t even recognize. I’m worried about you.”
“I can handle gossip.”
“This isn’t only gossip,” she said. “It’s your reputation. Your work. Your students. And if they decide there’s something inappropriate between you and him, it won’t matter whether they’re wrong. People will believe what sounds interesting.”
Her words settled heavily between us.
“I’ll handle it,” I said, though even I could hear how thin it sounded.
Giselle’s face softened again. “I know you want to look like you have everything under control. You always do. But please don’t underestimate this. Whatever is happening with him, keep it away from the corridors.”
I swallowed, my gaze dropping to the phone still lying facedown on my desk.
“I’m serious, Edwina,” she said gently. “Be careful.”
I nodded once because I did not trust myself to say more.
Giselle lingered near the door, her hand on the handle. For a second, I thought she might ask about Hayden again. Instead, she only said, “I’m here if you need me.”
Then she left. The silence that followed felt heavier than before, filled with everything I had not said and everything people had already begun to imagine.
I sat down, my gaze moving to my phone again. Hayden’s messages were still there, unanswered, carrying the weight of the presence I had been trying to avoid since the moment I walked into the building. For the first time, I let myself admit what I had been refusing to face.
Avoiding him was not helping. It was making everything worse.
By the time I finished my lectures, the day had drained more from me than I wanted to admit.
Nothing had happened outright, yet the tension followed me from room to room, through conversations, classes, and the small tasks I forced myself to complete.
When I finally gathered my things, I paused before opening the door, already aware of what waited beyond it.
The hallway. The lowered voices. The looks that lasted a little too long.
Giselle was waiting outside. She pushed herself away from the wall as soon as she saw me, her expression softening with relief. There was something comforting about seeing her there, something familiar enough to pull me out of my own head.
“You’re coming with me,” she said, her tone light, though her face made it clear she would not accept an argument. “We have a birthday to prepare for.”
A breath slipped out of me, and for the first time that day, something inside my chest eased. Tomorrow was Helena’s birthday. Despite everything Hayden had disturbed, that truth remained untouched, simple, and mine to protect.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, though there was no real resistance in my voice.
Giselle’s lips curved as she linked her arm through mine and guided me toward the exit.
“No,” she said. “And you wouldn’t take it even if you did.”
I did not argue. She was right.
Daniel was waiting near the entrance when we stepped outside. He looked up as soon as he saw us, and for once, the normalcy of it helped. He greeted us without pressing for answers or studying me as though he expected the truth to fall out of me if he looked long enough.
“You look better,” he said.
“I feel better,” I answered, and this time, the words did not feel as difficult to say.
We walked together through the streets, surrounded by the familiar signs of December. Lights had begun appearing in windows, decorations filled shop displays, and the city seemed to be preparing for the end of the year in its usual way. For a while, it helped me breathe.
Tomorrow was December fifteenth. Helena’s birthday.
The thought settled inside me with a warmth no part of my life could ruin.
“She’s going to love this,” Giselle said as we moved through the store. She reached for decorations before I could even decide where to start, already focused on colors, ribbons, balloons, and all the small things Helena would notice first. “The timing is perfect for a birthday.”
“She’ll be happy,” I said, letting myself believe it.
Daniel added a few things to the basket without hesitation, moving beside us as if this had always been his place in our lives. He did not overstep. He never did. He simply helped, never making me feel like I owed him anything for it.
We spent the next hour choosing decorations and party supplies, building Helena’s day piece by piece.
Balloons, candles, wrapping paper, paper crowns, little plates with stars on them because she loved anything that sparkled.
For a while, I let myself focus on that alone.
The colors. The plans. The image of Helena walking into a room made just for her.
She was the one part of my life I had never questioned. Helena had come into the world and changed everything. She kept me going when the past felt too heavy, taught me how to stand again, and gave me a reason to hold myself together on the days that tried to break me.
My thoughts drifted as I stood there with a pack of gold balloons in my hand.
Memories rose, pulling me back to months I rarely allowed myself to revisit.
They had been hard in ways I still struggled to name.
I had carried grief, fear, and loneliness while trying to convince myself I could survive all three.
Losing Hayden had stayed with me through the silences, during the moments when I reached for a life that no longer existed, and inside the ache of wanting someone I had already decided I could not have.
“Edwina?”
Giselle’s voice pulled me back. I blinked and turned toward her.
“You went quiet,” she said, watching me with concern.
“I’m here,” I replied, giving her a small smile.
She studied me for another second, then let it go and turned back to the decorations. I followed her lead, grounding myself in the present again. The basket between us. The birthday we were planning. The little girl who deserved a day untouched by everything I was trying to keep away from her.
Tomorrow had to be perfect.
I would make sure it was.