CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
THE LAST MORNING
I woke up a half hour earlier than Oliver. I slipped into my slippers and trudged to the kitchen. The silence was interrupted by the intermittent clicks of the air conditioner and the constant low hum of the air purifier. I didn’t look into Rowe’s bedroom as I crossed it down the long hallway.
I stepped into the spotless kitchen and began Oliver’s breakfast. Like a robot, I air-fried two strips of bacon and boiled one egg.
I put a few spoonfuls of plain yogurt into a small bowl and sprinkled raspberries on top.
I put two slices of multigrain bread into the toaster, ready to push down when it got close to serving.
Then I removed the butter from the fridge and set it on the table with a butter knife at the ready.
“Smells good.”
His morning voice, gruff with sleep, cut through the air.
I looked over my shoulder and smiled at him.
He was working from home today, but he’d showered and dressed in casual slacks and a polo shirt.
He came to me and wrapped his arms around me.
His scent fell around me as he dotted kisses along my shoulder and neck.
“You were already sleeping when I got home,” he uttered, biting gently at my earlobe.
I nodded. “I’ve been so tired lately.”
“Are you due?”
For my period, he meant. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “I am.”
“What are our chances?”
I spoke through the lump forming in my throat. “We’ll know soon enough.”
He let go and went about pouring himself coffee. I watched him from the corner of my eye, at his easy grace. There were no stiff movements or frown lines on his face. He looked peaceful and gentle today.
“I have a few meetings this morning,” he said, settling into his chair. I felt his eyes on me, watching my every move.
“Important ones?” I wondered, my voice high with interest.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Students.”
“Nothing too stressful then.”
“Shouldn’t be, except for Lucy.” His mouth tightened at the name.
I gave him my undivided attention now, recognizing the displeasure in his voice. “The girl that keeps sending you emails?”
He looked pleased that I remembered. “They began innocently.”
“And now?”
He shook his head. “Now I will be recording every encounter I have with her.”
“Oh, no.” I looked at him with concern. “You have this problem every year.”
“I’m not crossing any lines,” he said quickly, looking deeply at me now. “Never, sweetheart.”
I went to him then and settled in his lap. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and gave him a doting kiss. “I know that, Oliver. You would never do that.”
He kissed me slowly, his hand running up and down my body. He gripped my hip and squeezed. “I wouldn’t need to. I have you.”
I nodded, moaning as his tongue slid into my mouth. “You have all of me, Professor.”
He hardened beneath me, and I let out a breathless giggle, pulling away. “Your bacon is going to burn—”
“I don’t care for that.”
As he kissed me, he murmured, “Perfect. So perfect, Daisy.”
After he disappeared into his office for his meetings, I cleaned up the kitchen and gathered the laundry.
I hummed as I went about our home, smiling dazedly at the pictures on the wall.
I stopped in front of a wedding photo, blown up and hung in the entrance room of the home.
When you walked into the house, the photo greeted you directly.
A good first impression, Oliver had said.
Under the picture on a mantelpiece were more frames and Oliver’s recent Tree of Life goblet he’d been given as a token of appreciation after one of his readings.
It was heavy and gleaming and utterly stunning.
The earthy green and brown cup was crafted with a carving of a tree with wide branches and deep roots.
Oliver said its placement complemented the photos.
I returned my gaze to the wedding photo. I studied my face. I was so happy. My heart tugged at Rowe’s smiling face, his eyes on me. Oliver was looking at me, too. Two of the most important males in my life were looking at me like I was their everything.
I traced Oliver’s face, though my eyes clung to Rowe’s form.
The photo felt like it belonged to another lifetime. I could not get back to the woman smiling inside it.
I moved along, disappearing into the laundry room.
As I crouched to throw the laundry in, I found the small pill bottle beneath the bed linen.
I hummed as I discreetly popped it open.
I turned my back, so it was facing the entrance of the room and then slipped a pill into my mouth.
I swallowed it down without water, feeling it slide down my throat one inch at a time.
Then I closed the bottle back up and shoved it back under the linen that had needed washing for the past several months.
I turned on the washer and went about my morning, very much aware of the cameras capturing my every move.
I could feel him watching me.
Every inch of me prickled with awareness.
When the doorbell rang mid-morning, I had a list ready to give to Louise.
“How are you, Daisy?” she asked, smiling brightly at me as she took the list from my hand.
“I’m wonderful,” I said. “How are you, Louise?”
She waved the list. “Glad I have work today.”
“It’s been slow?”
“I’ve lost so many clients this month.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m sure it’ll pick up.” She looked me over, and her brows shot up. “Love your dress! I’ve never seen you in it.”
“Thank you. Oliver got me this recently.”
“For any specific reason?”
“He likes to dress me up.”
Her cheeks reddened. “Man, your husband is the best. Where do I find a guy like that?”
I laughed. “I found mine at the University.”
“Educated, good looking, and loves to dress his wife?” She sighed dreamily. “You’re living the dream, girl.”
She looked down at the list, and like before she didn’t blink twice about the ambiguous request for “distilled water.”
“I’ll be back in the afternoon,” she said. “I’ll ring the doorbell to let you know the groceries are out here.”
“Great, thank you, Louise.”
She left, looking relieved that she had work today. I would get Oliver to tip her. Nothing made him feel better than being recognized as a charitable man, especially if it helped a single mother whose side gig was drying up.
After my morning duties were completed, I went to the nook area on the upper level and sat down in my white leather armchair.
I pulled out my latest read from my bookshelf and continued it, getting lost in the classic fiction Oliver approved of to escape the reminder I was never too far out of his reach.
I hadn’t been engrossed long when I heard a commotion coming from Oliver’s office.
It was unusual he would ever raise his voice, but the more I listened, the more I realized it wasn’t his voice at all.
The hairs along my arm raised. I’d never heard someone lose it at my husband in all the years I’d been with him.
Unable to stop myself, I stood up and slowly crept down the hall and to his office at the very end. My heart picked up along the way, catching the sobs and screams coming from a female voice, and Oliver responded in his calm and smooth tone. He didn’t sound rattled. Not at all.
“Professor Black, don’t do this!”
“I’m sorry, Lucy,” he returned. “But your paper has already been reported to the Dean—”
“NO! Please, you can reverse this, can’t you? I’ll be kicked out of my program, Professor, please.”
“If you want to discuss leniency, you will need to do that with the dean, Lucy—”
“After everything, Professor Black, you’re just going to let this happen to me?”
Silence.
I held my breath. Utterly aware he could be watching me standing outside his office door, I still didn’t move. However, I had a feeling I wasn’t on Oliver’s mind right now. His entire focus was on Lucy and her suddenly quiet yet steely voice.
“What are you going to do if I don’t try to reverse this, Lucy?” Oliver asked, his tone matching hers.
“You keep thinking I’ll take it,” she responded, coldly. “I keep telling you, Professor Black, I’m not that kind of girl. I did this purposely to see if you noticed. I wanted your attention. I know things that you wouldn’t want let out to the public.”
You could hear a pin drop, that was how quiet it got. I knew I ought to be moving. To be backing away and minding my own business, but whatever punishment that awaited me from being caught out like this seemed worth it.
Oliver, who seemed to be in control of every facet of his life, couldn’t get a young student in control. What did she have on him? How did she one-up him? It felt like such an impossible feat.
“Come to my office, Lucy,” Oliver suddenly said. “I’ll be stopping in at three.”
“To reverse this?”
“To discuss this.”
There was a triumphant edge in her tone. “I’ll see you at three, Professor.”
The chair suddenly screeched back, and I backed away quickly, but I wasn’t fast enough. Within moments, the office door whipped open, and Oliver stood before me. He had his keys in hand when he found me and jolted. His face was pale; his lips parted in surprise. He hadn’t known I was there.
All at once, his face darkened. I braced myself, unable to stop the question from flying out. “What did you do, Oliver?”
In response, he gripped my bare arm and dragged me down the hallway.
It was to be expected. I barely flinched when he shook me, his rage centered now on me.
I continued my questions, knowing there was no point trying to please him.
This had never happened before. I’d never seen someone speak to him like that.
“She has something on you, doesn’t she?” The accusations flew out of me now. “Did you fuck her?”