To Professor, With Love (Forbidden Men 2)

It only took me a few days to see to my parents’ affairs. As neat and tidy as they’d always been, they still needed someone to put all their wishes into action, so everything fell to me. I spent another day with their lawyer, making sure Rita was set, and all Richard and Mallory’s things could be sold to auction. Then I made sure a fund was arranged with the university where their money could go.

I stopped by their graves one last time

before leaving town to say a final goodbye and attain my closure. A weight lifted from my chest as I climbed back into my car. It was so strange. I’d hit my rock bottom. I’d lost the love of my life, my job, and my parents. I had basically no prospects for the future, and the money in my savings account would probably only last me a month or two.

But I didn’t feel as if this was it, as if everything was over. Maybe I really was in denial. Except a seed of hope had sprouted in the voided place in my heart. It grew and budded, and I couldn’t stop this feeling that a new start was awakening inside me.

My cell phone rang as I reached the city limits, making my bud of hope blossom into a flower. It’d been a few days since Noel had stopped calling and started leaving messages. He still texted every morning, providing me with quotes for my collection. Yesterday’s had been my favorite yet:

“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.” - Jess C. Scott, The Intern

But aside from those texts, he’d stopped begging me to call him back, or forgive him, or come home. He’d stopped apologizing for the loss of my job. He’d stopped fighting fiercely for me. Then again, I hadn’t responded to any of his attempts, so he really didn’t have a reason to think there was something left to fight for, except I still loved him. I’d always love him.

My heart jerked in my chest as I scrambled for my phone in my purse in the passenger seat. Maybe Noel hadn’t quite given up after all.

The ID on the screen showed my old advisor and mentor, though. Shoulders slumping, I answered politely.

Dr. Thorn extended her condolences over my parents’ death. After I excused her apologies for not making it to the funeral, she finally found her way to the meat of her call.

“I know you’re probably getting along just fine over at Ellamore,” she said, making me cringe because I didn’t want to confess I was no longer employed there. “But we had a faculty member in the English department here decide to retire at the end of the semester, and you were the first person I thought to replace him with. You were always so enthusiastic about the curriculum, and you have the youth and vivacity I want here. So do you think it’s possible you would consider returning to us...as a professor?”

***

It was late when I made it back to Ellamore. I’d driven straight through and should’ve been exhausted. But while my body just wanted to rest, everything else inside me perked to attention, exulted over the fact that Noel was close. I could have waited until morning, but I didn’t. I had to see him now. I parked in front of his apartment building and hurried through the dark to the front entrance where a broken overhead light dangled limply above the front door.

I balled my hand and raised it to his door, but decided I didn’t want to wake his roommate, so I took my phone from my purse to call, when I changed my mind again. I’d much rather wake him a different way.

I tried the lock and found it open. Tiptoeing through to the dark hallway, I reached his bedroom and turned the knob, pushing my way inside. The lamp by his bed glowed softly and the sheets rustled as I entered. I wondered if he was already awake, waiting for me, sensing I was coming. But when I lifted my eyes to the bed, I found a girl gasping and sitting up on his mattress instead.

Holding her blankets up to her chin, she gaped at me from a pair of wide, water-stained eyes.

I froze as the air was pummeled from my chest. She was beautiful with long, streaming blonde hair and stunning features. It hurt to look at her.

Acid filled my stomach, and I thought I might be sick all over the floor. Tears filled the ducts in my eyes.

But he’d moved on. I was too late. He—

“Are you looking for Noel?” she asked before sniffing and wiping at her cheek. “I think...I think he’s in the living room, either sleeping on the floor or the couch. I’m not sure which.”

She seemed friendly. I couldn’t believe this girl—whom I didn’t know but hated more than everyone else on earth—would dare be friendly to me, as if she wasn’t crushing my soul into a thousand pieces. It took me a good five seconds to actually process what she’d just said.

Noel was sleeping in the living room. Not in here. Not with her.

The confusion must’ve painted my expression pretty obvious because she said, “You’re Aspen, right? I’ve heard about you. I’m Noel’s sister.”

“Caroline?” I breathed. Oh, Jesus. Oh, thank you, God. “I...oh! Well, I’ve heard about you, too.”

The relief left me dizzy and I had to reach for the doorframe and hold on to catch myself. And once again, my own overwhelming emotions kept me clueless from a few oblivious details for far too many seconds, otherwise it might not have taken me so long to realize Noel’s sister was crying...and here. Why was she here, and where were the two brothers?

“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping forward, concern for her overriding everything else.

“Yeah.” She nodded and hugged herself, dropping the sheet to reveal she was wearing one of Noel’s Ellamore Viking shirts. “I...I...no. No, I’m not okay. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”

When she buried her face into her hands and dropped all pretenses of not bawling her eyes out, my heart broke for her. I crawled onto the mattress and pulled her into my embrace. As natural as breathing, she rested her head on my shoulder and accepted my solace. The smell of Noel on the sheets comforted me as I comforted his sister.

“Is it the baby?” I finally asked, smoothing her hair out of her face.

Her body shuddered as she cuddled closer to me. “There is no baby.” The hollow echo in her voice told me that was exactly what the problem was. Instead of asking what had happened, I said, “How’d you get here?”