Nothing that happened tonight should have surprised me, but still I was left reeling. Hayden claimed he hadn’t had a relationship with Sienna. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but to me it counted, in spite of the dysfunction. Four years was a long time to spend with someone.

Connor and I had only been together for three. Even then, we’d broken up for a short time during my last year of college, when the stress of our long-distance relationship had interfered with our goals. It had been difficult. Painful. But I couldn’t tell Hayden. There was already so much on the table that if I added anything else, the legs would collapse. I wasn’t in any frame of mind to deal with something like this. Not now.

The door to my apartment opened. I swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, afraid Hayden had returned, but it was Sarah.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Not really.” I hiccupped.

She closed the door and crossed the room, pausing to grab a box of tissues on the way. She handed me one and I wiped my eyes, but those stupid tears kept falling.

“What happened? What did he say to you?”

“Nothing that should have surprised me. I asked him to leave.”

“Yeah. I got that. Chris just took him home.” Sarah pushed my hair over my shoulders. “Whatever he said must have been bad if you’re this upset.”

“He had a relationship with Sienna. He was with her for years; there didn’t seem to be many boundaries.”

Sarah sighed. “Chris gave me the impression it was a long time ago. From what I know, Hayden and Sienna don’t have anything to do with each other anymore.”

“She came to Inked Armor while I was there, and she was all over him tonight. Obviously there’s still something there,” I replied, pulling another tissue from the box. The more I thought about it, the more ill I felt. “I don’t want to share him.”

“What? Why would you have to do that? Is that what Hayden said?”

“No, but what if he loses interest in me? He can say he won’t, but who knows what could happen in a few weeks or months? I can’t allow myself to get more attached to him. I can’t get hurt like that again. Just thinking about it . . .” I choked on the words and the fear.

Sarah drew me into a hug.

* * *

I didn’t work for the two days following Lisa’s engagement party, which was a relief. I needed the time and the space from everyone. Hayden called several times, but I let it go to voice mail, afraid I wouldn’t be able to hold it together if I talked to him. I was having difficulty as it was. Being apart from him hurt. After twenty-four hours of silence on my part, he sent a text message asking to come over and talk. I told him I wasn’t ready yet.

My sleep was riddled with nightmares, but they weren’t about the crash. They were a replay of what I saw in Lisa’s bathroom; Sienna’s hands all over Hayden. In the dream he didn’t try to push her away. Instead he pulled her closer. Before he slammed the door in my face, he told me I was too damaged to love.

I woke to a pillow wet with tears. It was early, but I had no hope of going back to sleep, so I got up and prepared to face the day. I covered the dark circles under my eyes with concealer and packed antianxiety pills in my bag. Considering how unhinged I felt, I doubted my ability to make it through the day without them. I’d done so well over the past couple of weeks. Ever since the outline of the tattoo had healed up, I hadn’t taken more than regular Tylenol. Being around Hayden had made everything manageable; without him it was hard again. He had become a new addiction, one far more dangerous than pills. He had the power to hurt me in ways a dependency on painkillers could not.

I left early and drove to campus on autopilot. As soon as I was parked, I popped an antianxiety pill, letting it dissolve under my tongue. I sat in my car for a good half hour, waiting for the calm to take over. It helped alleviate the buzz in my head and my body, but the empty feeling inside remained.

Later, after I finished teaching my seminar class, I went down to my office to mark essays and clock a few hours on my thesis. Ian stopped by and asked if I wanted to hit the pub, but he was alone and I didn’t feel like dealing with him without the buffer of at least one of the other guys.

It was already evening by the time I finished with the essays and my research. I packed up my laptop and rubbed my eyes. I’d been at it for hours, and while I didn’t want to be home alone, I didn’t have the focus left to be productive. I shrugged into my coat and limped across the room, my hip stiff from sitting for so long. I needed a bathroom before I tackled the drive home. I was just about to leave when there was a knock. If it was Ian again, it was possible I just might take him up on the offer to go for a beer. Hanging out with him would be better than being in my apartment, which said a lot about my state of mind.

I opened the door to find Professor Calder on the other side, the most recent copy of my thesis tucked under his arm. It was Monday, and our next meeting wasn’t until a week from Wednesday. I could only assume his seeking me out meant he had further issues with my newest research.

“Ah, Miss Page, I wondered if I would find you here. Working hard?”

“I was just on my way home.” I looked beyond him at the empty expanse of hallway and wished I’d left five minutes earlier. I didn’t have the patience to deal with him.

“I’ve had a look at your most recent additions. It’s starting to take shape.” He held up the fistful of papers marked in red. “However, I’m afraid it’s still rather elementary. I was under the impression you’d read the articles I provided, but I see no evidence in here.”

I bit the inside of my lip, irritation flaring. I was done with his less-than-subtle attempts to bring me down. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “The articles are quite fascinating, and it’s definitely a topic I’m interested in learning more about. However, it’s not quite the direction I anticipated taking my thesis.”

“That’s rather unfortunate, don’t you think?”

“Excuse me?”

His smile was vulturine as he assessed me. “I wonder if you’ve given any more thought to my offer.”

My heart stuttered and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I glanced to the right, at the six-inch gap between his shoulders and the doorjamb.

“You still seem to be struggling to ground your thesis in solid findings, even with my guidance. Wouldn’t you like this whole process to be easier?”

“I’m sorry, Professor.” I gave him a syrupy smile. “I’m a little unclear as to what your offer entails. Do you think you could provide a few examples of what you expect with this more ‘hands-on approach’? That is how you described it, isn’t it?”

His smile faltered. “You’re an intelligent woman. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

In that moment I saw him for what he truly was—a predatory has-been who coerced his students to trade sex for grades. “Interesting you would say that, considering how much it conflicts with your general assessments of my research.”

His expression hardened and he took another step toward me, but I raised my hand to prevent him from getting any closer. I was done being pushed around, by him or anyone else. I wouldn’t allow him that kind of power over me.

“How many students do you offer these opportunities to, Professor?”

He blinked, like he hadn’t expected me to question him. I was certain he was unaccustomed to being challenged. When there was no response other than his looming over me in his tweed jacket, I took the draft of my thesis from him.

“Shall I assume it’s safe to reschedule our next meeting, since we’ve already discussed my thesis now?” I moved toward the narrow gap between him and the doorjamb and waited for him to step aside. When he didn’t, I prompted him further. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be heading home.”

He seemed to recover himself. He stepped aside and swept his hand out. “Of course, Miss Page. I’ll see you two weeks from Wednesday. Have a lovely evening.”

I strode quickly down the hall and threw myself into the elevator, gritting my teeth against the panic as I descended to the ground floor. It was already dark when I got outside, and I headed for my car as quickly as I could with my limp. I fumbled with my keys and dropped into the driver’s seat. Slamming the door shut, I punched the lock button before I started the engine and turned on the heat. I couldn’t believe I’d done it. I’d stood up to Professor Calder! Hayden would have been proud.

The elation was short-lived, however, considering where things stood with Hayden. I tried not to cry, but I was drained and couldn’t manage all the emotions. It had been less than forty-eight hours since I’d spoken to Hayden, and I already felt like I was in the throes of withdrawal.

I remembered how difficult it was after I left the hospital and the morphine haze lifted. Reality was an ice bath of agony. This was unnervingly similar. I hadn’t realized how much I’d come to depend on Hayden in the short time we’d been together. The urge to call him was almost debilitating. I pulled out my phone with unsteady hands and punched in the code. I’d missed several calls and messages over the course of the day. Many of them were from Hayden. The most recent text message brought on a fresh wave of tears. Three simple words:

I miss you.

I wanted so badly to give in, to ask him to come over and stay with me, to erase all the hurt. But if I did, it meant allowing this new addiction. I wasn’t so sure it was any better. It definitely wasn’t safer for my already shattered heart. Particularly not after all that revelation on Saturday.