Chapter 38
thirty-eight
Sunday passes in fragments. Family dinner. Greek life meetings.
Avoiding our apartment.
And leaving the wellness bracelets on the dresser.
The air smells like incoming spring rain on the first Monday in February. But the sky looks like it’s about to fuck us over with more cold wind.
Coat up to my ears, I stroll toward the president’s house on the east side of campus.
A few Deltas spot me and nod with silent respect.
Prior to my appointment, I would’ve felt like I had to put on a face of righteous anger.
A perfect representation of the lion of vengeance that our House god demands.
In the past, I would’ve been dying inside. One wrong move and the whole thing would crack. Everyone would know I was a fraud.
But with Scout by my side? I feel as if I can succeed. The way she looks at me with such awe and veneration fills me with hope.
Maybe I can become someone.
And not just the guy who takes her down with me.
Instead of a hesitant step and a gut filled with lead as I approach the double doors of the white-columned manor, I smile.
Mainly to myself. But also to the boy that had to hide inside a huge body.
Begging to not get called on in class so that no one would hear me unable to read.
The one good at sports. The one with the dimpled grin.
Not charm like Nico. Not brilliance like Leo. Not Atlas’s effortless laughter.
I’ll never forget the looks of dismay my teachers would give me, being the fourth brother in succession. The faded hope when I failed my first test. A glaring disappointment.
So I would surge forward and become the best at everything else. If the class needed a monitor? I was there. Extra pencils for the exam? I’m your guy. Tell the girls talking in the back row to settle down? I could do it…and they’d listen.
What I couldn’t do was the actual task at hand. But I was passed anyway.
And I’m going to pass today.
I know it.
“Come in, Mr. Griffin.” President Damon is in another purple skirt suit. Amethyst brooch gleaming in the low lamplight on her desk. She nods at the two enforcers by the doors, and they exit until it’s only she and I in the room. That’s…unusual.
I shed my coat, folding it over my arm, and sit in the wingback across from her.
Her throat grows tight as she swallows. Lines burrow into the skin around her lips as they grow taut. She’s hesitant to say something. And that’s also unexpected.
“It’s always a pleasure to meet with the president of Northview. What is this about?”
“I wanted us alone because I wanted to protect you from embarrassment. Because this isn’t your fault, Apollo.
None of this is. In fact…” she trails off and nods slowly, as if gathering the strength to confess something that could hurt me.
“In fact, this is mine. I was the one who looked over the personality tests and chose poorly in your appointed. And now? You’re married.
I appreciate you taking your wife to the Omega party.
For performing the cathedral wedding. Showing how well you’re doing on the soccer fields as a couple.
We do want you to attend more events in the future. ”
She ends her speech with a clear contradiction.
“But?”
“However, it’s come to my attention that your wife has…faked her pregnancy.”
Despite my sweater. And the button-down beneath it. And my wool slacks. And socks. Cold floods my chest. I can’t even form a response.
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. We had the opportunity to test her blood and then urine. And it’s impossible for her to be pregnant at this time.”
“I see.” Did they take samples from the hospital?
The president rises from her seat, comes around to the front of her solid walnut desk, and leans a hip against it.
Leaning over, she pats my hand like I’m a child.
“I’m so sorry to break this news to you.
Because I think you wish to do the right thing, Apollo.
I don’t blame you for this. Not at all. It’s only more evidence of how sick your wife has become. ”
Breathless, mind reeling, I whisper, “Sick.”
“And paranoid. We don’t believe she’s faking it to herself. We think she genuinely believes herself to be pregnant.” She straightens up and waves toward the papers on her desk. “But she’s not.”
Her words strike me with a bolt of shock. My head’s hanging, hands reaching through my hair and messing it all up. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry, Apollo. But there’s hope. My colleagues at Northview University Wellness Center think we can get her better. Perhaps in just a month’s stay.”
I whip my head up and narrow my eyes.
“Or less. Maybe more… Depending on how she’s doing. But we need to act fast.”
“Wellness… The psychiatric ward?”
President Damon ignores me and returns to her chair.
“We have advanced therapies we’re testing.
Scout Griffin will be the pioneer of the new center.
A revolutionary. She’ll emerge stronger.
A better wife for you. A mother for the next generation of Nighthawks.
Most importantly…she’ll be an obedient daughter of the Seven. ”
My mouth goes dry as a million thoughts whizz through my mind.
“Imagine it. You’ll manage Griffin Motors as CEO after your father retires.
” She shrugs. “Or perhaps you’re given a higher position, such as leading an international automaker business.
Right after graduation. A custom home on the south side of the city.
And Scout? She’d easily gain acceptance to NU’s medical college.
Go on to be a surgeon working for our own centers.
Performing procedures. Inserting permanent wellness biometric markers.
” As if she’s throwing me a glimpse of her future plan, she mutters, “Perhaps she’ll even be the one to expand Wellness Centers and the procedures across the nation. Maybe even the world.”
I go still. Especially when her eyes lift to mine as she states, “For the Seven.”
I raise my eyebrows, envisioning everything she’s saying. It’s so suffocating, I almost can’t speak. “I can see that…”
President Damon’s face relaxes into a broad, professional grin. “She’d love it, wouldn’t she?”
But it’s not a question.
Sweat pours off my forehead until I swipe at it with the back of my sleeve. “Sorry, I need a minute here.” I pace in front of the fireplace, sipping deep inhales to steady my pounding heart.
It hurts. Thinking of Scout the way she sees her.
The car incident. Her sliced arm. The lollipop that wasn’t there when I arrived. And the glow on her face when she announced she was pregnant.
I hate this. And I hate what I’m about to do.
But I have to.
I sit down and address the president. “You’re right.
She needs to get well. If she needs help, real help?
What kind of husband would I be to stand in the way?
I agree, she should go to the Wellness Center.
Maybe she’ll become a great advocate for it…
Or maybe she’s now my burden of responsibility for the rest of my life.
A wife with a severe mental illness that you appointed to me.
And yet, I assume you still want me to parade around as if we’re the premiere couple. To help the elders and the Seven.”
She tilts her head, considering me for a moment. “Ideally.” With a flick of her fingers, she shoves some paperwork toward me that I can’t fucking read. That mask I used to wear to protect myself from humiliation? Now, I put it on with pride.
Because I’m going to use it to my advantage.
“We just need you to sign these to have your wife admitted. Her parents can’t. You’re her guardian now.”
I wave my hand at them and hold still.
“What hesitations are you still having?” she asks.
With a careful lift of my eyes, I search Damon’s face. She looks…nervous. And that makes me happy.
“I need a guarantee that I’ll get through this with my reputation untouched by a marred wife.
I’m thinking that there should be a specific position created just for me and future students to be able to influence the POT’s decisions.
That I, as…Student Leader Representative, should have the authority to veto future matches.
And appoint a committee under me to aid with those decisions. ”
Her mouth opens, but I interrupt before she can speak.
“It’ll create more acceptance among the student body to see me endorsing the POT wholeheartedly. To showcase my marriage as proof of a great concept. Trust in the system and in the elders will increase.” Quietly, I grit out, “It will increase faith in the Seven.”
She relaxes. As much as I’ve ever seen. Shoulders loose, smile bright, and eyes gleaming. “You sure know how to sell something. I chose wisely with you, Mr. Griffin. This is a fantastic idea.”
With a sudden movement, she stands and shoves her hand toward me. “A firm handshake of agreement.”
“I’d like to have a contract drawn up, but, um, would like for one of your men to document it first.”
“Ever the wise one. I like it. I’ll call my secretary Smithy in, and once that’s done, I’ll sign it after we go over it together.”
“Perfect.”
She inhales sharply. “As for you wife? Is she…at home now?”
I nod. “Probably studying. Give it an hour. That’ll be the right time.”
Solemnly, she sniffs. “It’s really for the best.”
I blink slowly and stare out the window at the fading winter sky.
“It really is.”