She takes a deep breath. “When I got pregnant, I was a freshman at Harvard. Tegan’s father was my English Literature TA. I was eighteen, he was twenty-seven—smart, handsome, with that literary artist halo… I fell for him during the first lecture, but never expected my feelings to be reciprocated. Long story short, we started a clandestine relationship, as he couldn’t openly date a student. I was so in love with him.” Vivian shakes her head, and her mouth thins in that hard line she’s shown me so many times. “When I found out about the pregnancy, I was scared, but I thought we’d raise the baby together, get married, start a family. Like the naïve child I was, I told him everything with a big smile on my face.” Her voice cracks at this point.

“And he refused to accept his responsibilities?”

“Oh, not just that. He went on a rampage, called me a liar, saying that I was trying to trap him, ruin his career, accusing me of going off the pill on purpose. I hadn’t. Tegan is really the product of a carton of leftovers gone bad and a night spent throwing up in my dorm bathroom. It never occurred to me that vomiting a single pill could nullify the effect of the whole box, but it did.”

I sense she’s still withholding information. “Is raging all the professor did?”

We hold gazes for the longest time. Then, Vivian confirms my suspicions. “No,” she says. “He said he wasn’t interested in being a father, that the baby probably wasn’t even his, and that I should get rid of it before anyone found out. When I refused, he demanded I transfer to a different school, and threatened to fail me in both his classes if I didn’t comply.”

I realize I’m gripping the armrests of my chair only when I have to pry my fingers away. The man sounds like a prime asshole.

“And you didn’t report him to the faculty board?”

Vivian shakes her head. “I was eighteen, scared, alone, heartbroken. I was lost. So, I did everything he asked: I finished the semester at Harvard before my belly showed and transferred to Columbia the next year. I wouldn’t have been able to raise a kid on my own and still graduate while in Boston, anyway.” She shrugs. “At least in New York my parents could help.”

“The professor sounds like a real piece of work,” I say.

“Yeah, right?”

“Sort of makes me want to go on a second date with the witch just so I can ask her to curse him.”

Vivian smiles. A saddish, bittersweet smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah,” she agrees. “I’d like to see that. But you get why I don’t want Tegan to meet him. That man is toxic.”

“I do…”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”