I park in the lot outside the football stadium, which is already almost full for the ceremony. There’s a ton of traffic, with blue and yellow balloon arches everywhere. I get out of my car and walk to the division office, where all the STEM professors gather before the ceremony. I look around for Ryan. He’s not here yet, but that’s not unusual. He’s late for almost everything.
Except at that last division meeting. When he saved me a seat.
Everything about the last few months has been hitting differently now. How he pulled away after my engagement, trying to date other women. How he helped me move. Took care of me when I was sick. Even the small things—he brought me coffee, lent me his jacket, encouraged me to publish my book.
All the little things add up to one big thing: love.
I’m so stupid that I didn’t see it before. Well, I saw it. But I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t compute it. And I should have; I’m a mathematician. I should see the equation floating around: small gestures plus supportive friend minus ego equals love. But I didn’t.
I stand and watch the group of professors chatting, but I can’t bring myself to enter their conversation. I’m too lost in thought. Before I know it, it’s time to line up for commencement.
And Ryan still isn’t here.
A few rows over, I spot Chase with the English department. I run over to him quickly, waving as I approach. “Hey! Have you seen Ryan?”
I’m met with a blank stare and an arched brow. “Uh, no. Have you…talked to him lately?”
“Not since…” I swallow. “Not since Saturday.”
“Ah. Well. He’s gone.”
“Gone?” I rack my brain, remembering he mentioned a trip to Hawaii. “Did he start his vacation early?”
“It’s not vacation,” he says with a cold, clipped tone. “He’s moving there.”
“Oh.” The words take a minute to sink in.
Moving.
Ryan is gone.
He meant what he said—that we couldn’t be friends if I got married to Zach, and he’s following through.
But the finality of it feels like a dagger in my stomach.
Chase watches my reaction carefully. “He’s been in love with you for years. You know that, right?”
All I can do is nod.
“I tried to set him up with someone. I thought she was the perfect woman for him. She was a surfer too. Did you know that? But he couldn’t see past you. And now he’s gone.” He clenches his jaw. “I have to believe you have feelings for him too, and… Do you realize what you’ve done to him? It’s not cool, Claire.”
He turns his back to me, resuming his conversation with his colleagues, and I once again feel like I’ve been punched. His words hit right to my core, and I feel like such a terrible person.
Was I leading him on this whole time?
Is this all my fault?
The staff calls for us to get into our places, and I go find my math team. I realize I’m still searching for Ryan, and I remind myself that he’s gone—he won’t be here anymore. The tears stinging my eyes threaten to fall, but I tell myself there’s too many people around to break down. Not here, not now.
I make it through the procession without crying, find my seat between Liam and Janet, and watch as the ceremony begins. The president of the college makes a speech, and then the superintendent of the district steps up to the podium. There’s a musical performance from some students, and then it’s time for the student speeches.
The first is pretty funny, actually. He’s the student body president, and he cracks a few jokes about the awful Wi-Fi at school teaching them patience and the broken air conditioning imbuing them with perseverance despite toilsome circumstances. The next speech is an “inspirational” one—the kind that makes us professors squirm because the student thinks they know everything, but they’ve only just graduated college and still have so much to learn about life. The thing about getting older is that you realize you actually know nothing.
The third speaker, the one nominated by the graduating class, looks familiar to me. “Oh!” I exclaim softly to no one in particular. “She was one of my students my first semester here.”
Janet hears and grins at me. “That’s exciting.”
It actually is. Most of my classes are entry-level algebra and a few calculus, so I don’t usually know the graduating seniors. I can’t remember any details about her though, so I look down at the program and read her name: Anastasia Tate.
