“Yep. I heard. Heard all about how she feels. What Ididn’thear was how you feel about her. Howyoufeel about getting involved.” Ben missed his calling as a counsellor. Although his current gig is far more lucrative.
Kind of wishing I hadn’t opened this door now. Sadly, it’s too late to take it all back. Eventually, I clear my throat with another gulp of Ben’s exceptionally good red wine.
“I’m not ready,” is all I can manage.
“E, are you going to make me say all the things?” His invocation of my childhood nickname tells me he’ll go there if he needs to.
I know the things he means. Things about how it’s been two years. How Jess would want me to be happy. How I deserve to be happy. I shake my head. I don’t need to hear it. Again.
“Right. It seems to me that if you’ve met someone, and you’re having feelings,”—I go to interrupt and he holds up a hand to stop me—“whatever those feelings might be, then maybe you areready. For something at least. If this woman has brought you to that point, well, I’d like to thank her.”
“Sadly, your undying gratitude doesn’t solve my dilemma,” I snark.
“Maybe you just need to relax. Don’t press the panic button just yet. The sex is kind of the easy part, and you’ve already put that on the backburner. Focus on guiding her through her PhD. Get to know her while you work together. Be friends. Then, if you decide you like her, and she likes you, and maybe you want to have a relationship, figure out how to handle it.”
“Spoken like a man who went how many weeks being a ‘friend’ before jumping the love of his life?”
Ben’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, and his mouth pops open, but no words come out.
Shit. That was some kind of Freudian slip. I’ve already had the love of my life. Jess. And now she’s gone. Maybe one day I’ll find love again, but I don’t see how it could compare. It will always be a lesser love. Whoever it is—and I’d be kidding myself if I thought it would be someone as special as I already know Sadie is—will need to be accepting of that. I’m painfully aware of the unfairness, the unreasonableness, of this. Which brings me to the conclusion that the likelihood of finding someone is infinitesimally small. And I’m okay with that.
Chapter Ten
Sadie
The one good thing about Ethan being my PhD supervisor is the expectation we’ll have each other’s phone numbers, making it much easier to have private conversations. Which is how I know he’s been unable to convince Jennifer she’d be a better supervisor for me than him. Oh, there’s two good things. The second is I don’t have to deal with Martin Collins. Because as much as working with Ethan may be problematic, working with Martin would be a nightmare.
No prizes for guessing, then, why Riley is in such a snit the following morning. She’s officially been told Martin is her supervisor, and she is not happy.
“I don’t know why they’re all fighting over you,” she says, cornering me in the tearoom. “It’s not like your thesis is any more interesting than mine.”
I disagree. Her thesis is on something from the Ptolemaic era, which is when the Greeks muddied the culture. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Personally, I prefer my Egyptianhistory straight up and unadulterated. I think Riley likes this period because it includes Cleopatra. She loves a bit of glamour. Even if it is mostly Hollywood-invented. It’s also appealing to her because it’s much better documented than earlier eras, and, therefore, easier to research.
“I don’t think they’re fighting over me. Ethan specialises in the New Kingdom. So I guess it makes sense.” I drop my teabag into the bin and splash some milk into my favourite wadjet eye mug.
“Well, not being his student is better anyway. Now there’s no reason we couldn’t date.” She pulls a dreamy expression, which almost makes me gag. I’m about to comment when Garret, the other PhD student starting this semester, wanders into the kitchen. He’s lanky, slightly dorky and a really nice guy.
“Who couldn’t date?” he asks, filling his water bottle.
“Ethan and me.” Riley rolls her eyes as if he’s slow to catch on, even though he didn’t hear the beginning of the conversation.
“Yeah, that doesn’t seem likely. I heard he was so heartbroken over the death of his wife that he sold their house and everything in it.”
Can confirm. Based on the state of his house when I was there. Although I keep that morsel to myself for obvious reasons.
“That was years ago. He’s still a young man. He’s going to have to get over it at some point. Maybe all he needs is some encouragement.”
Garret and I exchange a look.
“Sadie, while you’re working with him, suss out what the sitch is with his love life. Find out what he likes to do. You know. Favourite movies. Football team. That kind of thing.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m not going to be your Cyrano.”
“My what now?”
“Cyrano. De Bergerac.” I hear Garret explaining as I walk out of the kitchen. That conversation almost put me off the Tim Tam I have in my hand. Almost.
Part of my role as a PhD student is acting as a tutor for the lecturers in undergrad classes. Ethan is taking five classes this semester and appoints me as the tutor for three of them. Another suggestion from Jennifer we couldn’t escape. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to throw us together.
