I nodded. And all of a sudden I felt like a complete moron. Whatever he felt had to be infinitely smaller than what normal humans felt in romantic relationships, and here I was cornering him... asking him to define everything. To explain himself. I was being the where is our relationship going girl to the last guy on the planet who wanted to hear it.
“Why would it change how I feel about you?” he asked quietly. He seemed to really be struggling trying to figure out the complex algebra I’d laid out.
“You don’t think I’m dirty or tainted somehow? Like... like damaged goods?”
“No.”
As much as I was grateful for the silence with him, for the lack of intrusion and overwhelming emotion and smothering, I needed more than one word. Damn.
Shannon’s expression darkened. “I left because I was losing control of my emotions. I never lose control of my emotions. It disturbed me that I didn’t feel I had control of myself, and it’s always been the one thing I’ve felt sure of, that I was in control. Knowing what he did... I thought sex in the shower that morning would take the edge off, and it didn’t. Then I thought the job would. The job helped some, but not nearly enough. I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”
It was like a chorus of angels singing. I’m going to kill that motherfucker.
I couldn’t help the smile creeping up my face. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t mask the utter joy at the idea that not only was Professor Stevens going to pay for what he’d done, but Shannon was going to do it. It almost made up for the tragedy of crying for Trevor. Almost. I would have given almost anything to go back in time knowing the truth, and to coldly watch Trevor die without mourning him.
“I want to go with you,” I said.
Shannon hesitated. “I really work better alone.”
“I have a right to be there. This is my vengeance. Not yours.”
For a moment it felt as though the two of us were two pieces that came together to form one whole, that nothing made sense without both of us together as one unit.
“Let’s eat dinner. Let me think,” Shannon said.
I didn’t push further because I knew that ultimately he would decide if I got to go or not. Even if I ran away from him and tried to do it all on my own, I wouldn’t know where to begin, and I would very likely get caught. And I wasn’t going to do time for my bastard professor.
It was hard to appreciate the restaurant. I wish I could have. It was warm and cozy with what seemed like endless candles. There were some low lights recessed into the ceiling, but the sheer proliferation of candles made it seem as if the space was lit entirely by candlelight. The food was amazing, authentic. I felt as though I were actually in Italy.
But no matter how nice the atmosphere or how good the food, my mind kept going back to Professor Stevens and the giddy sense in my stomach that finally, finally, something in my life was going to go right. Finally, someone who had hurt me would pay. Finally, there was a man fully in my corner and on my side who was focused on the same dark goal as me.
Neither of us spoke much during dinner. Shannon seemed in his own world, planning this impromptu pro bono job. I didn’t even have to pay him for it. He was clearly set on doing this no matter what. Even through just the course of one dinner, I could see how his energy shifted to this one idea. I wasn’t sure if all of his thoughts were about planning the logistics or if he was also considering my involvement—perhaps running parallel scenarios in his head of how it would go down with just him versus adding me to the mix.
I was surprised when he ordered us dessert. I’d expected, with his current intensity level, that we would eat quickly and leave.
I was sure the other patrons in the small restaurant were looking at us strangely. I wondered if they thought we were in a fight or something. It was extremely odd to be in such an intimate setting sharing a romantic dinner in utter silence. Then I started to worry. Wouldn’t the people of Stoney Oak gossip? This was such a small town after all. Shouldn’t we at least make the pretense of small talk?
But before I could make any real effort in that direction, we’d finished dessert and the check was unobtrusively placed on the table.
“I’ll take that when you’re ready, Mr. Mercer.”
“I’m ready now,” Shannon said, pulling out his wallet and sliding a credit card inside the payment folder.
When the waiter slipped away to process the payment, I noticed a familiar person amble over. It was June from the boutique near Shannon’s house.
“Shannon! I thought that was you! I can’t believe you missed the last town meeting. We were discussing whether or not we should cut down that huge diseased eyesore of a tree in front of the courthouse. The historical shade tree committee was there, and put up quite a fight, but we won in the end. After all, it might be a three hundred year old tree, but it was well past the point of survival, and we all knew it. It would have been nice to have you there. I know you would have been on our side.”