“I have a daughter. Her name is Lucy. She’s two. She’s my everything—and she’s sick,” he says, his eyes darting away momentarily before meeting hers again.
He pauses, inhaling deeply, before shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I can’t help her. At least, not in the way I want to, so I’m in school to get my degree to make a better life for her. So, sometimes I’m late because I’m up at night with her or have to work, and sometimes I’m on my phone because I’m checking to make sure she’s okay. And sometimes I sayridiculousthings around you because I’m attracted to you and you’reoff limits,” he says, stepping closer. “You’re off limits, and it makes me crazy.”
She makes him crazy. His daughter is sick.
She was wrong about him.
He’s not like them.
Jahlani shakes her head, her skin flushing hot, feeling her chest start to pinch with tension. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say something before?”
“I tried,” he says, his voice even lower. “You assumed the worst and wouldn’t let me get a word in.” He exhales, rubbing his jaw. “I don’t go around broadcasting my personal life. I don’ttell people, because it’s a hard conversation to have. I don’t want her to be used as an excuse. I was wrong. I should have been on time. I should have been ready. My daughter being sick isn’t enough to excuse my actions and for that, I’m sorry. I have to own up to that, right?”
Wrong. So fucking wrong.
Jahlani’s fists ball and she feels her stomach roll. “But this is—this is—I?—”
Beyond anything she could have fathomed. Life-altering, game-changing information.
Because he’s been genuine this whole time.
She assumed that he was another lazy, well-off student using his parents’ money to get by.
Usingherto get by.
She steps forward, the warmth of his fingertips brushing against hers, getting ready to say the most useful phrase known to mankind, but she hopes will help temporarily soothe the wound she had opened with him.
“Roman, I had no idea. I’m sor?—”
“Is everything alright here?”
Jahlani takes several steps back, turning to face Professor Jackson before looking back at Roman with wide eyes. His entire body stiffens, but his eyes remain fixed on Jahlani’s until Professor Jackson is next to her, briefcase clutched to his side, a stoic look over his features.
Roman’s eyes slide slowly to Professor Jackson, and he gives him a tight-lipped nod.
“Just had a question for Jahlani, Professor.”
Professor Jackson lets out something between a huff and a grunt, folding his arms across his chest.
“Next time, ask during the lecture and notafterclass is over when Ms. Jones is trying to get home, Mr. Hayes.”
Jahlani’s stomach plummets at his cold tone, and she opens her mouth to say something, but Roman beats her to it, his gaze sliding back to hers.
“Right. My apologies. It won’t happen again. Have a good night, Jahlani.”
Jahlani purses her lips, watching his figure retreat down the pathway until he becomes a blur. She turns to face Professor Jackson, opening her mouth, then closing it when he arches a brow. She looks in the direction that Roman just walked off in before looking down at her watch.
She might be able to catch up with him.
“I have to catch my shuttle. Have a good night, Professor Jackson.”
She doesn’t give him a chance to reply, a light jog in her steps as she moves toward the student parking lot. She isn’t even sure what car to look for. She isn’t sure about a lot of things most days, least of all Roman Hayes.
I have a daughter. She’s sick.
Jahlani is panting by the time she makes it to the parking lot. Pressing a hand to her chest, she draws in ragged breaths.
