“You said that you can’t keep on doing what you’re doing… So why don’t you change things? Stop doing the wrong thing, and start doing the right one.”
“And… what’s the right thing?” I sigh, still feeling torn. But she’s right - I have to do the right thing here.
“That’s for you to find out,” she tells me, and I squeeze back her hand. “But you love him, and that has to count for something.”
“I… I do love him,” I say, the way the words fall out of my lips almost making me dizzy. I love him, I really do. But am I willing to pay the price for this love? To let go of everything I’ve ever wanted because of Anders? The answer cuts through all the confusion in my mind like the light from a beacon, and the answer is a resounding yes. I love him too much to allow the Consultancy Program to step between the two of us. “I know what I have to do,” I tell Kim, standing up in a hurry and almost spilling my cocktail to the floor.
“And…?” Kim looks up at me, a bright smile on her lips. God bless her.
“I’m going to pay the Dean a visit,” I just say, placing a folded bill under my cocktail glass and grabbing my purse.
“Go get ‘em, girl,” she cheers me as I turn on my heels. I throw her one last smile and then I head out of Dos Caminos, a steely determination taking over me.
It might be the the hardest thing I have ever done, but I’m going to do the right thing… And I’m going to do it right now.
200
Anders
“Anders, can you come up to my office?” The Dean asks me, and his tone of voice leaves no room for doubts: I must go there now.
“On my way,” I respond and then end the call, placing the cell phone
inside my pocket as I stand up. I leave the papers I was reviewing right on top of my desk, and I don’t even bother with shutting down the computer. I get out of my office in a hurry and head straight to the Dean’s office. I don’t even bother with knocking - I just step inside.
“Glad you could join us,” Andrew tells me. He’s the dean of the department, a man in his fifties with horn-rimmed glasses and a head full of snow white hair. He’s sitting at his desk and, right in front of him, is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen - Christine.
“Anders?” She calls my name, turning to look at me. Her eyes are red and puffy, and her makeup is slightly smeared.
“What’s going on?” I ask Andrew, and he just points at the chair next to Christine. I sit down, and then he folds his fingers and takes a deep breath.
“Okay, Christine, you were saying…?”I notice her hands shaking, but she then rests them on her lap. She lowers her gaze to her hands, looking away from me.
“I want to…” She starts, but then falls silent. I can tell that she’s hurting to get the words out, but I don’t dare to stop her. She has made her decision, and I can do nothing but respect it. She takes a deep breath and then finally says it in one single breath. “I want to formally withdraw my application for the UN Consultancy Program.”
“Wait - what?” I start, turning to her.
“That’s right,” she tells me, returning my gaze. She then turns to the Dean, takes another breath, and steadies herself. “I’ve been in a relationship with Professor Anders, and I don’t think that I should be considered for the position at the UN. And this is all my fault and --”
I can’t help myself - I throw my head back and let out a loud laugh. She looks at me with wide eyes, trying to figure out why the hell I’m laughing when she’s crushing her dreams because of me. Then the Dean starts to chuckle, adding to her confusion.
“What?” She asks, looking from me to the Dean.
“Christine,” Andrew starts in that patient tone of his, taking his reading glasses out of his face and setting them down on the table. “There’s nothing in the bylaws stopping a professor from having a relationship with a graduate student. You did nothing wrong.”
She looks at the Dean as if he has two heads, but then she finally allows for the good news to sink in. But she’s not done yet. “Well, sir, I still want to withdraw my application. I don’t think that it’s right for me to be nominated and evaluated by Professor Anders. It’s unfair for the other applicants.”
Smiling, I reach for her and place my hand over hers. “Christine,” I call her, and she turns to me, that look of determination in her face. She looks even more beautiful like this, never mind the make-up. “I didn’t nominate you. Dean Andrew did.” Her eyes narrow as she tries to understand the ramifications of what I just told her, and then they almost seem to shine.
“You’re saying that--”
“That’s right,” the Dean cuts her short, still in that patient and kindly tone of his. “Anders took himself out of the equation and let me handle it for him impartially. He didn’t want to jeopardize your dreams, I believe.”
“That’s right,” I nod, gently giving her hand a squeeze. “You don’t need to withdraw your application, babe.”
“In fact, I think that the applications process is now over,” the Dean agrees with me and continues. “You see, Christine, the concept of ‘moral fiber’ is one of the pillars this program stands on because the United Nations are in dire need of leaders with strong ethics. They want to train young people like you, so that when you grow up you can be a force for good in this world.” She nods attentively, but I can tel
l that she’s not understanding the real reason the Dean is telling her all this. He then adopts a more stately tone of voice and continues speaking. “Judging by the way you handled yourself in this particular situation, preferring to assume personal sacrifice and do what’s right instead of going down an easier path, I formally appraise you as someone of outstanding moral fiber.”