"Bianca." His voice is rough. "Please, just hear me out?—"
"Get out." I'm already moving toward the door, toward the phone on my desk where I can call security. "Get out of my classroom right now."
"I just need five minutes?—"
"You don't get five seconds." My hand closes around the desk phone. "Leave, or I'm calling security and telling them there's a man harassing me."
"I'm not harassing you, I'm trying to explain?—"
"Explain what?" The words come out sharp enough to cut. "How you sold me to pay off your gambling debts? How you used me as collateral like I was a car you couldn't afford anymore? Please, Adrian, enlighten me."
He flinches but doesn't leave. Instead, he closes the door behind him.
My heart starts hammering.
"Don't." I lift the phone. "I swear to God, Adrian, if you take one step closer?—"
"I'm not going to hurt you." He holds up his hands like I'm a spooked animal. "I just need you to understand. It wasn't supposed to be like this."
"What was it supposed to be like, then? You offering me up to Dante Vitale was part of what? Your master plan?"
"I didn't have a choice!" His voice cracks. "You don't understand the kind of pressure I was under. The things they were going to do to me?—"
"So you did them to me instead."
"It's not permanent!" He's talking faster now, moving closer despite my warning. "I've been working on a plan. I can get you out of this. I can fix it?—"
"You can't fix anything. You're a coward and a liar and you destroyed my life because you couldn't stop gambling." I'm shaking now, rage and fear mixing into something toxic. "And now you show up here? At my job? Where my students could see you?"
"I needed to talk to you somewhere he isn't watching?—"
"He's always watching, you idiot! You think he doesn't have people following me? You think showing up here isn't going to get back to him?"
Adrian's face pales. "I didn't think?—"
"You never do. That's the problem."
He runs a hand through his greasy hair, and I catch a whiff of alcohol. Of course. Day drinking. That's his solution.
"I'm going to get you back," he says, and there's something manic in his eyes now. Something unhinged. "I'm working on a plan. I have connections, people who can help?—"
"I don't want your help. I don't want anything from you except for you to leave me alone."
"You don't mean that."
"I absolutely mean that." I set the phone down but keep my hand on it. "We're done, Adrian. We were done the second you signed those papers. Actually, we were done long before that. I just didn't see it."
His expression crumples and for a second, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
"I love you," he says quietly.
"No, you don't. You loved what I represented. Stability. Someone to take care of you while you pissed away money we didn't have." My voice is steady now, cold. "If you loved me, you never would've done what you did."
"I made a mistake?—"
"You made a choice."
"Bianca, please—" He takes another step forward, and I grab the phone.
