I wait for the tingle that should shoot through me, for the temptation of George’s bed to make me change my plans. It doesn’t come. Fuck you, Easton. “I really need to work on my revisions. I might be able to get them done early if I put my head down.”

He blows out a breath and straightens. I can practically see him mentally readjusting his expectations. “Early would be great. You could take a break.”

I look around, surveying George’s office. I’ve been teaching at Starling in a temporary position for the last two years, so it’s not like I don’t know what my life will be like if I find a tenure-track job. Teaching, grading, faculty meetings, advising undergrads, and so fucking much committee work. Of that list, the only thing I find rewarding is the actual time in the classroom. I love watching students connect with literature—sometimes for the very first time in their lives. I love taking them by the hand and showing them that even though writing terrifies them, they have the tools they need to write a compelling paper. But the rest? Insert cringe. “I think I need the extra time to explore my options for next year. I’ve been so busy finishing this degree and getting qualified for tenure-track positions that I’m not sure I’ve given enough thought to whether or not that’s what I really want.”

“Shay . . .” He studies me, disappointment creasing his brow. “Don’t let this guy ruin your plans. I know he’s all flash and money, and I’m sure that’s appealing to you after working so hard and earning so little, but don’t let him ruin everything you’ve worked for.” He wraps his hand around my wrist and rubs his thumb against the pulse point. “Don’t let him ruin the few months we have left together.”

“I can’t deny that seeing Easton again is messing with my head.” I wave a hand between our bodies. “Messing with this.”

He nods. “I noticed.”

“And I am sorry about that. But the need to re-examine my career isn’t about Easton. It’s about me.” But maybe I needed Easton to remind me that I’m more than the alphabet soup behind my name, and that I’ve never cared about my career as much as I care about my family.

Part V.

Easton

May 16th, ten years ago