I hang up. “He said he’ll be here in two minutes,” I say to Dean, almost stumbling as he pulls me into his arms. His chin is resting on my head, and I’ve missed this. I’vemissed him so much.
“It’s going to be OK,” I whisper.
We stay like that until Eli walks through the door. His first concern is for Dean, and I can see him checking him out, assessing his state. “Y’alright?”
Dean nods weakly, and then Eli turns to me. “AreyouOK?” He eyes the campus security guards carefully.
“I’m fine. He - we should talk later.”
He pauses, and then sees from my face that I really mean it. “Alright.” He looks at Dean and tips his head towards the door. “You ready to go?”
Dean looks at the floor, and then at me. He walks backwards, just like he did the first time we met, only this time, he looks thoroughly worn out, running on empty. And then he lifts his hands and signs something to me.
I know that sign.
I learned it myself last week, so I could say it to him when the time was right.
He signs,I love you.
A sob breaks out of my chest, and I cover my mouth to stifle it. Lynne puts an arm around me making meaningless soothing noises just like my mother would if she was here now, and I feel frozen to the spot as he starts to leave.
“Liaden!” Mitchell still pronounces my name incorrectly. “You’re late for the meeting - ” He starts when he sees Lynne comforting me, my books in disarray all over the floor. “What the bloody hell…”
Dean has stopped. He turns his head slightly, but remains with his back to us.
“Liaden’s friend took ill in her office,” Lynne explains smoothly, with perfect pronunciation of my name as a subtle jab. “It’s all sorted now.”
Mitchell looks around, clearly peeved to have been left out of the drama. “Well, really! This is absolutely unacceptable to have friends here during work hours - ”
“Mitchell, that’senough,” Lynne tells him in her firm, I’m-the-boss voice that normally manages to bring him in line.
I ignore him, and move towards Dean. “I think I’ll go home, if it’s all the same, Lynne.”
“Yes, of course. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone - ”
“No,” Mitchell says plaintively. He glowers at me with palpable menace. “I rearranged my day to accommodate you being at this meeting, and you willbe there, young lady!” I have no idea what possesses him to do it, but he grabs my arm. I yank, but he doesn’t let go, bristling like an angry hedgehog.
A single second later, Dean turns up next to me and headbutts him, bringing his forehead down hard against the bridge of Mitchell’s nose. Mitchell yowls like a burnt cat, staggering backwards and cupping the rivulets of blood pouring over his lip. Dean seethes at him, snarling like a wild animal, breathing heavily, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, and the campus security guards pin him to the wall, shouting things, but I can’t make sense of any of it. Lynne gapes, saying nothing. Mitch says the words ‘assault’ and ‘lawsuit’ over and over, but it’s just noise. Eli tries to talk things down with the guards while also trying to get Dean to chill again, but my darling keeps staring Mitch down, not taking his eyes off him in case he makes a move to touch me again.
As for me? I wriggle and burrow in between the guards, throw my arms around Dean’s waist, and cry my eyes out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Liaden
Mitchell wanted to press charges, because of course he did.
I told him that if he even thought about it, I’d press counter charges for assault. After all, he left a mark on my arm from grabbing it so hard, plus I had Lynne as a witness. Furthermore, I’d raise a formal complaint with the university for gender based discrimination and bullying. I had plenty of witnesses to his snide remarks, talking over me, mansplaining, and put-downs in meetings, which I really shouldn’t have dismissed the way I did at the time. Lynne hadn’t realised the extent of his behaviour, and was extremely angry. I don’t think she’s going to let it go. Turning purple with embarrassment and impotent rage, he backed down.
Eli and I took Dean home and put him in his bed. He didn’t resist, entering a kind of fugue state that unnerved me, not responding much to anything either of us said to him. There was no question of us leaving. We knew we were there for the night.
“Come talk to me?” I whisper as we close Dean’s door. We’re both here in case he needs us, and we’ll check on himperiodically, but Eli and I do need to talk, and I’d rather he didn’t hear us.
“Sure,” he murmurs, looking weary as hell. “Tea or coffee?”
“Coffee. I’m staying awake all night and calling in sick in the morning.” He gives me a considering look, and then goes ahead and makes a couple of mugs in silence.
Finally we’re sat down, staring at the full mugs, watching the steam rise and fade. Not drinking the coffee. Not really moving much.
