“I’m sorry,” I say. “Whatever I did or didn’t do to screw it up.”
“You always kind of… shut down, you know?” Helen says. “I know we didn’t have a good relationship, but it would have been nice if you were there. That third time it happened, you left the following week for a research trip to Spain. By then, we were totally broken, but it still sucked to deal with it alone.”
“I thought you wanted to be alone.”
She blinks. “Why would I have wanted to be alone?”
“We had that huge fight, remember? You wanted to try again, go to a fertility clinic. I didn’t. We were both stressed out about work, our dissertations, money, our parents. You said we never should have gotten married.”
“And you took that to mean I wanted to be alone?”
“How else should I have taken it?”
Helen shakes her head. “Oh, Dean. No. We didn’t work at all together, did we? I don’t think you even realized that the miscarriages didn’t just happen to me. They happened to you too. Maybe that’s what you need to realize now.”
I’m silent. Not sure I get it.
“Look, even I can see that you and Liv have something strong.” Helen retreats a few steps. “And you don’t need me to tell you what your wife needs. You already know. You just have to stop running.”
She walks toward the house. “Shit happens, Dean, and sometimes no one can do anything about it. Not even you.”
That is exactly what makes me want to break something.
I finish the lawn and put the mower back in the garage. A bunch of people are in the living room, voices rising in a chatter, and I go through the kitchen to the stairs. Liv is in the bedroom packing her suitcase.
“Just getting a head start,” she says, reaching to close the lid.
I see the maternity clothes she bought last week. Folded neatly in the suitcase, their tags still on.
Words crash in my brain. There is nothing I can say, nothing I can do, to make this better for her.
“Are you all ready for the lecture?” Liv asks.
I nod. “I confirmed our flight reservations too. I’ll check us in tonight so we don’t have to bother in the morning.”
After my lecture at Stanford on Friday, we’ll head directly to the airport and be back in Mirror Lake by evening.
I go to change into a clean T-shirt. I know I can’t put this off any longer.
“Liv.”
Sensing the tension in my voice, she turns.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?” Wariness sparks in her expression.
“Sit down.”
She sits on the edge of the bed, curling her hand around the bedpost. Her gaze never wavers from my face as I tell her the whole sordid story—how Maggie Hamilton implied she’d do something sexual, the emails from Frances, the Office of Judicial Affairs, the questions, the reason I had to go back to Mirror Lake, the possibility of an investigation.
When I’m done, part of me feels lighter, as if telling my wife has alleviated some of the burden.
“Dean, I—”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She’s quiet for a minute, her jaw tight, her gaze on the floor. “There’s no way to confront her?”
“No. She could go to the OJA and use it as proof of further harassment. I can’t have any contact with her at all. I don’t want to.”
“What could happen?”
My heart is pounding. “It could… if she files a formal claim, it could end up in court.”
“How long does she have to make a formal claim?”
“I don’t know. Right now it’s not… not public knowledge or anything. They try to keep it confidential because they don’t want it to affect the university’s reputation. Though there’s nothing to stop Maggie from spreading rumors.”
Liv pushes away from the bed and comes toward me, reaching to take my hands in hers. I can see the anger sparking in her brown eyes, but I know it’s not anger toward me. It’s anger for me.
“Okay, professor.” She squeezes my hands and takes a deep breath. “Let’s get ready for defense. Pull up the drawbridge, boil the oil, station crossbows along the allure.”
My tension eases a little more. I disentangle one of my hands from hers so I can brush my thumb over the notch just beneath her lower lip.
“The allure, huh?”
“I’ve learned a few things about castle architecture over the years.” Liv wraps one arm around my waist. “The allure is a passage behind the parapet of a castle wall. Great for defense when the enemy is approaching. You know you’re safe on the allure.” She tucks her head beneath my chin, twining her hand with mine. “Like we’re safe with each other.”
“No doubt about it, beauty.” I press my face against her sweet-smelling hair. “You’ll always be my allure.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Olivia