“As if we would,” I laugh off, shaking my head.
“Hi, Professor Evans,” Amy greets with a smile, a blush still painted on her cheeks.
“Amy, when we’re not in class, you can call me Dwight.”
“Oh, okay, sure...Dwight... that sounds weird.” She lets out a little giggle. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Thanks, Ames. I’ll see you in class on Monday?”
“Absolutely. Bye Prof-Dwight,” she corrects herself and then pulls me into another hug before she leaves.
I look over at Dwight who is staring down at his phone as he rubs his temple with a worried look on his face.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, closing the space between us.
“I just got an email from Richard Harris, he’s asking to see me first thing on Monday.”
“Do you think it’s about us?”
“I don’t really see what else it could be.”
My heart starts to race. “Shit,” I breathe out.
“Hey,” Dwight pulls me into him, touching his lips to my forehead. “Everything will be fine, I promise. Like I said last night, I choose you.Always.”
∞∞∞
As it turns out, not long after Dwight received an email from Richard Harris, I did too. And when Monday morning rolls around, despite Dwight’s constant reassurances, nerves still knot in my stomach, filling me with nausea as I make my way to the Dean’s office. When I get there, I’m surprised to find Dwight sat in one of the chairs opposite Harris. I assumed we’d be seen to individually.
“Miss Taylor, please have a seat.” Richard Harris motions to the empty seat beside Dwight.
As I lower myself into the chair, I glance over at Dwight who offers me a reassuring nod and a smile, it does little to calm my nerves.
“Alright, due to recent events regarding an altercation between the two of you and Martin Rogers, I don’t have to tell you that certain things have been brought to light. Miss Taylor, I have already heard Professor Evans’ version of your relationship, and I would now like to hear it from you. Dwight, if you would step out of the room.”
“No,” I object. “I’d like him to stay, if that’s okay?” Richard Harris scratches his head, thinking for a moment before nodding. I take a deep breath before I begin to speak, “Well, it all began at the start of college...”
I head into retelling the story I’m sure Dwight has already told him. As it nears the more difficult parts, like dancing at the club and everything that happened with Rogers, I feel Dwight’s hand cover mine where I pick at the hangnail on my thumb. His touch puts me at ease, knowing he’s here with me, and I feel a little of the anxiousness leave my body like a wave washing over me, cleansing me.
Harris’ eyes track the movement of Dwight’s hand over mine, but he doesn’t let it show that it bothers him. He looks between the two of us, then settles his eyes back to me as I near the end of my speech.
After I finish speaking, Harris sits for a moment, seemingly processing everything I’ve just told him.
“Dean Harris, I just wanna say that I know how this looks, and I can probably guess every thought that’s passing through your mind right now, but you shouldn’t see Dwight as anything less than incredible man he is. Sure, he’s my professor, but he’s so much more than that. He is a strong and caring man who would do anything for anyone, hell, he helped me even when I didn’t know I needed it. We didn’t seek each other out or ever intend for this to go as far as it has, but you can’t choose who you fall in love with.”
One corner of Harris’ mouth curves upward. “You certainly can’t, given that my wife of thirty-four years, was too a student of mine.”
“What?” Dwight asks.
“Did I forget to mention that?” he replies, an amused grin spreading across his face.
“Uh... yes.”
“Well, I guess my own secret is out too.” He laughs. “My wife was a bright-eyed eighteen year-old who I fell for the second I laid eyes on her, and the rest was history. My point is, I know full well you can’t choose who you love, if you could, things would be a whole lot easier and a lot less painful. But the fact of the matter is, your relationship isn’t a secret anymore, or won’t be for much longer once more information surfaces about Rogers.”
He heaves a sigh, taking a quick sip of his coffee that sits on the desk beside him. “Now, if this was solely up to me, I would let it slide. Dwight, I’ve known you for a long time, you’re a good man, and I know you would never take advantage of a student. And Quinn, I see the way you look at him, and how you spoke of him earlier tells me everything I need to know. That the two of you are deep in love with one another, but if I ignore this, it will go against my duty as a Dean and my obligation to this school.”
“I understand,” Dwight says. “And I’ve been preparing for this day to come, whether our relationship was exposed, or it simply felt like the right time, but everything with Rogers accelerated it.” Dwight leans across the desk and slaps a sealed envelope in front of Harris. “This is my letter of resignation.”
