Chapter 16 #2
Miss Astoria yawned against my neck, completely content, and for the first time in weeks, the apartment felt like it might actually hold something close to normal again.
The rain kept falling outside, steady and quiet, and I let myself hold onto that feeling a little longer, even while Sophia and Anya exchanged another worried glance across the counter.
Life without Katherine still hurt in ways I could not name, but it no longer felt empty.
* * *
Anya followed me into my bedroom ten minutes later, carrying a fresh mug of coffee and wearing the expression of a woman who had just discovered state secrets.
She closed the door behind her with a soft click, then dropped into the desk chair backwards, arms folded over the backrest like she was settling in for a long interrogation.
Miss Astoria immediately reclaimed my lap the second I sat on the edge of the bed, curling into a tight white ball as if she had already decided this room belonged to her now.
“I’m still not talking about it,” I said before Anya could even open her mouth.
“You looked like Sophia had just accused you of tax fraud,” Anya replied, her pale eyes sharp with that detached amusement she used when she found something fascinating but beneath her. “And yet you are not denying it correctly.”
“I am denying it.”
“No.” She pointed one finger at me with complete confidence. “You are panicking.”
I rubbed a hand over my face. The rain outside had softened again, turning the dorm windows pale with misty grey light that made the whole room feel smaller and safer than it had any right to be.
Miss Astoria purred steadily beneath my fingers, her small body warm and heavy, entirely unconcerned with the destruction of my dignity.
I focused on the feeling of her fur instead of the way my pulse had kicked up the moment Sophia said his name.
Anya narrowed her eyes. “Oh my God.”
“What now?”
“You are attracted to him.”
“I’m literally not.”
I glared at her. Anya stared back with horrifying clarity, the kind that came from someone who had spent years watching rich people lie to each other without ever bothering to join in.
“Céline,” she said slowly, “Professor Moreau is like… clinically attractive. He’s young and hot, but half this university has issues with that man because he can be intense with his research. But you specifically look homicidal every time someone says his name.”
I looked away toward the rain-streaked windows. Miss Astoria stretched across my legs with complete luxury, her tail flicking once in contentment.
Anya studied me more carefully now, her head tilted the way it did when she was turning something over in her mind like one of her family’s business deals. “When did this start?”
“There is no this.”
“Right.” She nodded solemnly. “And Miss Astoria pays rent.”
I hated that Sophia and Anya had both become impossible to lie to over the years. Most people accepted performance at face value because they wanted to. It made social interaction easier. But the girls had seen me exhausted too often now. Angry too often. Silent too often. They noticed cracks.
“It’s not…” I stopped, the words catching somewhere behind my ribs.
Anya waited, patient in that aloof way of hers that somehow made the silence feel heavier.
I exhaled slowly. “He’s strange.”
“That is not new information.”
“No, I mean…” I searched for the right wording and immediately regretted continuing. “He notices things.”
Anya blinked. Then her entire face changed. “Oh.”
I looked at her suspiciously. “What does that mean?”
“That means you’re fucked.”
“Anya.”
“No, seriously.” She sat up straighter. “That’s your weakness.”
“I don’t have weaknesses.”
“You absolutely do.” She pointed at me again. “You like being perceived.”
The sentence landed with enough force that I went still. Anya saw it immediately.
I looked down at the cat instead of answering.
Because the horrible thing was; she was right.
People liked me constantly. That wasn’t rare.
People wanted me. Admired me. Envied me.
Desired me. But very few people actually saw me.
Not the ugly things underneath Céline. Most people preferred the performance because it made them comfortable. Vincent didn’t.
That should have terrified me enough to stay away from him completely. Instead, it kept pulling my attention back like touching a bruise you knew would hurt.
“I hate this conversation,” I muttered.
Anya looked almost sympathetic now. “Does Thad know?”
I laughed once under my breath. That answered the question by itself.
“Oh no,” Anya whispered.
“There’s no oh no.”
“There’s absolutely an oh no.” She lowered her voice dramatically. “You’re emotionally cheating with your molecular biology professor.”
“I’m not emotionally cheating.”
“You’re thinking about another man while your boyfriend texts you good morning paragraphs.”
I glanced instinctively toward my phone on the nightstand. Still unread. Guilt flickered briefly beneath my ribs. Then vanished just as quickly.
Anya watched my face carefully. “You don’t even feel bad.”
“I do.”
“You feel obligated.”
I felt my chest tighten. Miss Astoria lifted her head sleepily at the movement.
“That’s unfair,” I said quietly.
“Is it?”
I opened my mouth. Then closed it again.
Because I couldn’t honestly remember the last time I felt genuinely excited to see Thad instead of merely relieved by what he represented.
Security. Status. Predictability. A future that looked expensive and socially approved.
That had always been enough before. Hadn’t it?
Anya leaned her chin against the back of the chair. “What actually happened between you and Moreau?”
“Nothing.”
“Céline.”
I hesitated.
Anya’s eyes widened immediately. “OH MY GOD.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“NO.”
Miss Astoria startled awake and glared at both of us. Anya lowered her voice only slightly.
“Something happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
“You look like a woman hiding a body.”
Technically, I was. No. Not technically. I pushed the thought away immediately before my own nervous system betrayed me.
“He’s just…” I stopped again.
Anya waited.
I swallowed hard. “He broke into Thad’s apartment.”
Anya blinked once. Then her mouth opened and closed without sound.
I kept my eyes on the cat. “I woke up, and he was just… there. Standing beside the bed. In the dark. While Thad slept right next to me.”
Anya’s voice came out small. “You’re serious.”
I nodded once.
She sat back slowly in the chair, the dramatic energy draining out of her completely while she said nothing. Then, very quietly, she says, “Céline. That’s… that’s not okay.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” Her pale eyes were wide now, genuinely alarmed in a way I rarely saw from her. “He broke into your boyfriend’s apartment, and you’re sitting here acting like it’s some complicated romantic tension. That’s not tension. That’s dangerous. He sounds like a stalker!”
Miss Astoria purred louder, pressing her face against my stomach as if she could feel the shift in the room. I stroked her back automatically, the motion steady even though my pulse had started racing again.
“He didn’t… hurt me,” I said, the words feeling thin even as I spoke them. “He just… watched. And then he left.” I deliberately omit what really happened.
Anya stared at me. “And you didn’t call the police?”
I looked away. “What would I say? That my professor somehow got into a locked apartment without breaking anything? That I woke up and he was standing there while my boyfriend slept through the whole thing? They’d think I was losing my mind from grief.”
Anya rubbed a hand over her face. “This is worse than I thought.”
The rain tapped steadily against the windows. Miss Astoria stretched across my lap, completely content, and for one brief second, I envied how simple her world was. Food. Warmth. The person she had chosen. No complications. No performances. No dangerous men who noticed things no one else did.
Sophia appeared in the doorway then, carrying fresh coffee. She took one look at my face and sighed heavily. “Oh, she’s spiralling now.”
“I am not spiralling.”
“You’re clutching the cat like an emotional support Victorian widow.”
Miss Astoria purred louder.
Traitor.
Sophia crossed the room and handed me the mug before sitting beside me on the bed. The mattress dipped softly under her weight. “Okay,” she said calmly. “Tell us exactly what happened.”
I stared into the coffee, steam curling upward between us. Safe smells. Soft smells. The kind that made honesty feel dangerously possible. I swallowed once.
Then quietly I say, “He broke into Thad’s apartment… and ate me out.”
The words hung in the air between us. Sophia went completely still beside me.
Anya’s expression had already shifted from shock to something quieter and more protective.
Rain continued its soft rhythm against the glass while the three of us sat there in the warm dorm light, the cat purring steadily in my lap as if nothing in the world could touch us.
But something already had. And I still didn’t know how to explain it without sounding like I was losing my mind.
The words hung in the air between us. Sophia went completely still beside me on the bed, her mug frozen halfway to her lips. Anya’s expression had already shifted from shock to something quieter and more protective, her pale eyes wide as she leaned forward in the desk chair.
Sophia set her coffee down very carefully on the nightstand.
“Céline,” she said, her voice low and measured, the way she spoke when she was trying not to alarm anyone. “What do you mean he broke into Thad’s apartment and ate you out?”
I kept my eyes on Miss Astoria’s white fur, stroking the same spot behind her ears over and over.
Anya whispered, “You’re serious.”
I nodded once.