Not my business, I shook my head. “I do want to talk to you about something else, though.”
“What?”
I breathed a shallow breath. Could I really let him go? I needed to. I was well aware of that. My fingers danced on my desk. “I don’t like that I know so much about you. That I know how busy you are outside of the teacher-student relationship. That your mom and I are friends and that I have to lie to her—”
“But you don’t.” His lips tightened. “I wanted to tell her the truth that night. You never gave me the chance.”
I did know that, but that was only part of the problem. “I don’t think this is working out.”
“What isn’t?”
“You being in my class.” I couldn’t see him in my class every week, just too hard.
Weak, I knew.
I was just too emotionally invested in him, and it didn’t feel good. It was a distraction, and it had to be for him too. He, too, had been trying to avoid my eyesight, and he shouldn’t have to do that. He couldn’t do that. I was his professor, and that was obvious.
I pressed my hands together. “I know what I said. That I could deal, but I don’t think either of us should have to. I should be able to teach without thinking about… what happened. And you should be able to come to me, or any other professor you have, as a professor and nothing else. You should be able to look at me without—”
“I can look at you.” His chest hovered over the desk. “I do.”
Okay, so that was the problem. That.
He did look at me. He did see me, and I did as well.
I laced my fingers. “Don’t make this hard.” Don’t make this inappropriate. “You already have it hard enough, don’t you think? You’re working. You’re also in the last semester of your senior year, and you should be able to focus. I am a distraction, and I don’t want to be that for you.”
He said nothing, his lips closing. “So, you want me to drop the class.”
“I’ll sign off on any class you want to get into. I’ll even speak to anyone whose period you want to join in the department. Doesn’t have to be early western civ.”
Just as long as it wasn’t with me.
This was so very selfish what I was making him do, to completely adjust his life to mine, but I couldn’t do this. This was week two, and I already couldn’t do this. I couldn’t see him weekly.
I couldn’t lie to Evie.
At least with him not in my class, I wouldn’t have to keep in that lie, and he wouldn’t have to either. He was lying to her too.
Because you made him.
I waited, just waited. I needed to give him time and it was completely warranted.
Ramses jaw shifted, tightening before lacing his fingers across his chest. I thought he’d fight me on this. He had before, so it definitely surprised me when he reached down and picked up his bag.
“If that’s what you want then,” he said, and my stomach immediately turned sour. I really had expected him to fight me on this. To give it to me good like he always did. That was just who he was. Ramses pushed. “It’ll probably be for the best anyway.”
I guess not today.
That sickness stirred deep. Especially as I watched him walk toward the door.
“I’ll sign whatever transfer slip you give me then.” I swallowed hard. “Just let me know whenever.”
He leveled me with his brown eyes, giving nothing more than a nod before letting the door close behind him. He left me to my thoughts without another word, and I suppose I’d gotten exactly what I wanted.
I guess just remember that.
Chapter Thirteen