And the one time he comes knocking on my door, I stubbornly pretend not to be there. Lucas knows I’m inside—he yells it through the door—but I purse my lips and refuse to let him in. He’s no longer welcome in my office, my life, and, most importantly, my heart.

The avoidance strategy works pretty well, until I meet with Leslie for drinks on Friday night and she forces me to stare at the facts. We’re on a rooftop in Manhattan with a wonderful view of the city, drinking overpriced strawberry martinis.

“Are you sure you didn’t overreact?” my friend asks. “Luke tried to cancel the date, didn’t he? He didn’t stand you up on purpose.”

“With a text, thirty minutes before we were supposed to meet. Who does that?”

“But he said it was a work emergency.”

“What kind of work emergency? He was wearing sweat pants, and when I asked him if he was out saving a marriage, he admitted he wasn’t. That’s literally his job. All he does is save marriages.”

“It could’ve been something else he can’t tell you about.”

“Yeah, like what?”

Leslie takes a sip of her martini, pondering the question. “I have no idea.”

“Neither do I. I’ve tried for a week to come up with a plausible explanation that isn’t shady, but I couldn’t think of anything.”

“Okay,” Leslie agrees. “But Lucas is the least shady person I know. And you haven’t felt this way about anyone in… Well, have you ever?”

Truthfully, no. Not even with Tegan’s father; my relationship with him was never on an even plane. I was always kept in my place, and he reminded me constantly who the student and the professor were. It was subordinate. Unhealthy. Wrong.

But Lucas… Oh, he charmed me subtly, in a way I wasn’t ready to handle. He bamboozled me. Gained my trust little by little, only to squander everything by being caught in a lie.

And the worst part is that Tegan already identifies him as a father figure. He didn’t crush just me. He crushed the both of us, and I can never forgive him for that.

“Fine. I liked him, a lot. So what? How’s that supposed to make it better? I just feel all the more duped.”

“I’m telling you, Lucas is not the duping kind of guy,” Leslie says firmly. “At least hear him out.”

***

I carry Leslie’s suggestion around with me all night as I toss in bed, not sleeping, and then all of Saturday as well. No matter how much I try to shake it off, she’s planted a seed of doubt in my head.