23. Tori
TORI
“Please reach out if there’s anything else I can do to help before finals, yes?” Professor Dhawan said, the encouraging smile on her face giving her a saintly appearance. “I’ve seen firsthand how bright you are, and I hate to see stress get in the way of your learning experience.”
“I will,” I said, clutching my exam. “Thank you so much.”
As I left Dhawan’s office, I felt a fresh surge of determination to pull my grades back up.
After bombing my most recent Intro to Psycholinguistics test, which had shocked both me and my professor, I’d scheduled an appointment with Dhawan to go over the questions I’d missed.
It wasn’t that the information wasn’t sticking—but that I was so behind in my coursework, I hadn’t had time to catch up on all the reading assignments that would have prepared me for the test.
When I’d woken up in bed this morning, I’d wanted nothing more than to spend all day fantasizing about the new turn in my marriage.
About what it had become, and what it was still becoming.
Though my husband had already left for work, I could still smell the scent of his cologne on his pillow, clean and masculine, and I could have easily lolled around all morning, replaying the intimate night we’d had in minute detail.
But I knew I couldn’t do that. I had to focus.
So I’d dragged myself into the shower and gotten ready for school, all with a big smile on my face.
I had practically skipped across campus to the Social Sciences building, my body still tingling from where Stefan had touched me.
And licked me. And stroked me. He was almost like a heady drug and I was completely, utterly addicted to everything about him.
Receiving our graded tests back in Psycholinguistics had sent me crashing back down to Earth, though.
I’d known I was slipping behind with my assignments, but the C- in red ink across the top of the test booklet was like a sock to the gut.
It was still a passing grade, but my whole grade point average was now in danger, and I could lose my partial scholarship. I felt sick.
Instead of spiraling into panic, though, I’d stayed after class to ask Dhawan if we could talk more about the exam. She’d agreed to meet me later that afternoon, and I’d visited her during office hours to go over the test questions together.
I was in no danger of failing any of my classes, but it was clear to me that I wasn’t fully engaged in the program the way I wanted to be—the way I needed to be.
Studying linguistics at UChicago had been my dream—was still my dream—and I hated the thought that I’d been basically sleepwalking through my courses.
It was a disservice to both me and my colleagues.
I’d have to put my nose to the grindstone and stop letting distractions get in my way.
Between skipping study group with my friends and my complicated relationship with Stefan, I’d let myself fall way too far behind.
That wasn’t me. I wasn’t someone who felt comfortable with mediocrity, with the bare minimum, especially when it came to something that I hoped to dedicate my life to.
The only place I wanted to be was at the top of my class.
Now that things were in a much better place between Stefan and me, I hoped I’d be able to concentrate on acing my classes again, and absorbing as much knowledge as I possibly could.
As I headed to my next class, I sent Stefan a quick text telling him that I was going to be home late because I’d be studying at school.
I’ll be waiting for you then, he responded. Deal?
He was really coming around. I couldn’t help smiling at his text.
Deal, I typed back.
I skipped lunch in order to go to Harper and take copious notes from my psycholinguistics text, and after that I was on cloud nine for the rest of my classes that day.
I was already getting a handle on things.
My mood was so evident that a few of my classmates even asked if I’d gotten any good news recently, since I looked so happy.
“Just having a good day,” I told them cheerfully.
Even though it was nearly winter and frigid outside, I barely felt the cold as I headed to the Regenstein Library where my study group was meeting. The place was open until 11 at night, but I planned to be out before then, even though my friends seemed to thrive on all-nighters.
As I pushed open the door, I had a brief moment of doubt that made my pulse speed up and my smile falter.
Despite the texts I’d continued to exchange with Gavin and my girlfriends, what if coming back to study group out of nowhere like this was weird?
After all, I’d basically ditched them after the incident at the club and had begun spending all my time studying at home or at Kahve alone.
I might have permanently thrown off the balance.
Part of me debated turning around and heading to my coffee shop, to Reyyan and her expertly brewed Turkish roast. Where I could hide out at my corner table and bury myself in my textbooks. But I convinced myself I was being ridiculous.
Taking a last deep breath outside of Room 206, the usual location of our sessions, I opened the door and stepped inside.
“Aggghhhh she’s back!” Lila squealed.
I couldn’t help laughing as Diane launched herself into me for a quick hug.
“I see you guys in class every day,” I said. “It’s not like I’ve been M.I.A.”
“But we all miss your intellect,” Audrey pointed out. “Especially Gavin.”
Glancing over at him, I couldn’t help noticing the faintest blush tinging his cheeks.
He gave me a nod, trying to suppress those dimples. “Glad you could make it. Your epistemology insights are always much appreciated.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling like I had never left.
There was no sign that they had felt abandoned or ignored during my brief absence, and for that I was beyond grateful.
As we got into our notes, I realized I’d forgotten how easy it was to be around them, how well we all jived when it came to our shared passion for languages and learning.
They were incredibly helpful catching me up, sharing their notes and going over the study guides, especially Gavin.
I’d missed his kind patience, the way he was always so attentive toward me.
The girls got up and left one at a time until the study room was down to just me and Gavin alone. Realizing how late it had gotten, I blurted, “Shit, it’s almost ten already.”
But as I stood from my chair, I felt so lightheaded that I had to sit right back down.
“You okay?” Gavin asked.
I rubbed my temples. “Yeah, just dizzy. I guess I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Well that’s no good. You gotta keep fuel in the tank if you want the engine to run,” he said. “Let me take you to grab a quick bite.”
I’d been more or less avoiding Gavin ever since Stefan had made it clear that he didn’t trust him.
I still wasn’t entirely sure how I felt, but at that moment, I had a hard time imagining Gavin being anything but completely trustworthy.
He had been a good friend to me, and I was going to be leaning hard on him and the others to get through the upcoming tests that our instructors had promised would be a challenge to even the most dedicated students.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “I’ll just grab a protein bar from the food court.”
“Sorry, but I can’t walk out of here with a clear conscience knowing I let you starve yourself in the name of your education.” Gavin gave me a look, and I held up my hands.
“It wasn’t on purpose,” I insisted. “I was running late this morning so I didn’t have time for breakfast, and then I spent my lunch break studying in Harper. After class I came straight here, and once we started working, I got caught up.”
“I believe you,” Gavin said, shaking his head. “I’ve never met anyone else who’s as obsessed with language as you are. You’re the kind of girl who’d forget to eat dinner one second but then tell me where the word ‘famished’ comes from the next.”
“From the Middle English famen, which means ‘to starve,’” I said without thinking.
Gavin laughed. “I rest my case.”
He helped me back to my feet. “Come on,” he told me. “There’s a great pizza place right down the street, and I don’t wanna be the sad guy sitting in the corner, eating a whole deep dish by himself. We’ll be in and out of there in thirty minutes, tops.”
“Okay,” I said. “As long as we’re quick.”
Beyond the fact that I was starving, I figured it would have been rude to say no after all the help Gavin had given me. Besides, I liked his company, and there was no guarantee that Stefan would be home for dinner considering the fact that I’d already told him I’d be out late.
I let Gavin lead the way out of the library, allowing him to carry my bookbag as we made our way through the stacks and out the door.
The pizza place Gavin brought me to was called McGee’s, but since it was ten o’clock at night and adjacent to a college campus, the restaurant was completely packed and more than a little rowdy.
We had to elbow our way through a crowd of people just to get to the counter to order and then we had to sit elbow to elbow at the counter because all the tables were taken.
“Sorry about the crowd,” Gavin said, flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ve never seen it like this in here before. I guess I’m usually here during lunch, when everyone’s still in class.”
“It’s okay,” I told him, my voice straining to be heard over the commotion. “I’m sure the pizza will be worth it! Must be good if it’s this busy, right?”
“The best,” Gavin agreed.
Our pizza arrived and we dug into it, elbowing each other in the process.
I couldn’t help giggling a little. My thigh was pressed up against Gavin’s, his arm jostling mine as he reached for his soda.
When the waitress squeezed by behind me, I leaned forward with my hot, melty slice, realizing too late that I’d spilled half the toppings all over his jacket.
“God, I’m so sorry,” I apologized. I tried to dab up the oil and cheese with my napkin, but I ended up nearly elbowing him in the face in the process.
“No worries,” he said, gesturing at a blob of melted cheese and black olive. “This just means I’ll have a snack for later.”
We both laughed.
It was nice just sitting here with Gavin, laughing and joking and having a good time. Even the proximity of our bodies felt comfortable, despite the fact that I could feel the heat radiating from his leg into mine.
As I reached for a second slice, he twisted a little on his stool to face me.
“You have…” He gestured toward my face, but I had my pizza in one hand and a beverage in the other.
Before I could free my hands, Gavin reached out and tucked a wisp of loose hair behind my ear. His touch was soft, gentle, and as his fingers brushed my cheek, his gaze caught mine. He wore a look I knew well.
It was the same way Stefan looked at me when his guard was down.
At the same moment I realized it, Gavin leaned in to kiss me.
I didn’t know what to do. I’d wanted this before, when I’d wondered if Gavin would be a better match for me than my arranged spouse. Without even consciously realizing it, I found my eyes fluttering closed.
As soon as our mouths touched, with the softest brush of dry lips, I knew that it wasn’t what I wanted anymore.
I pulled back gently, not wanting to make a scene, especially in the crowded restaurant.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I can’t. I’m married. You know that. We—we can’t do this.”
Even though I was trying to smile, he looked like I’d just doused him in cold water.
“I don’t care. This wasn’t the plan when I first…god damn it.” He stopped and shook his head. It seemed like he wanted to confess something, but he stopped struggling for words and switched gears. “I feel things for you, Tori. And if you feel things too, we can work this out.”
I wasn’t used to this: having two men that wanted me. I was completely out of my depth, but even though I didn’t want to hurt Gavin, I knew that I was committed to Stefan.
Looking into Gavin’s eyes again, I rested a hand on his arm.
This was all my fault. I’d flirted with him like crazy at the club that night, and then continued to encourage him in the text messages we’d exchanged while I’d been figuring out where things stood with Stefan.
It hadn’t been intentional—I’d been genuinely confused about my feelings—but there was no excuse for the fact that I’d put my friend in the middle of my marriage, made him think that maybe we had a chance when we didn’t. At least, not anymore.
“The truth is…I do feel things,” I confessed. “For Stefan. I love my husband.”
It was the first time I had said those words out loud. I felt a rush of conflicting emotions. I felt scared and lonely, but also empowered. Confident. Because now I knew what I wanted.
And what I wanted wasn’t here.
I watched the hopeful light in Gavin’s eyes fade.
“I’m sorry,” I told him gently, giving his shoulder a final squeeze.
Carefully, I turned and slid off my stool and then made my way through the crowd of people eating and laughing around us. Now that I knew how I felt, I was desperate to leave. I shouldn’t be here, with Gavin. I should be at home, with my husband.
I should be telling him how I felt.