"Last summer?"
Emily held up her phone. A post from Katherine's social media was on the screen, and Kazeyuki should not have let his gaze linger for as long as it did.
"Oh my gosh, Dr. Collington? I think you just low-key tried to memorize her socials?"
"You're mistaken."
"No, I know what you saw—"
Slam.
Kazeyuki had no trouble crossing the line. It was one of the few perks of being her boss, and truly, she was mistaken.
He was telling her the truth.
He didn't have to memorize it.
Because Katherine herself had told him about it on the day she was discharged—
Just in case I have an emergency, Dr. Collington. You should follow me on all my socials.
Chapter Three
"SO, LET ME GET THISstraight," Eve says. "You invited him to the opening of your local grocery, the wedding anniversary of the parents of the ex-girlfriend of your professor whose conversation you enjoyed back at freshmen year—"
"Sophomore," I correct her. "It was at sophomore year we had a conversation, and it made us friends for life."
But Eve goes on as if that little matter doesn't matter when it totally does.
"And then there's the book signing event of the author whose work you never even read—"
"I'm just the kind of person that celebrates everyone's small wins," I cut my friend off in protest. "That's not a bad thing, is it?"
Eve puts down her salad fork and leans back to stare at me with eyes that suddenly feel like they see more than Superman ever can even with his X-ray vision.
"So why don't you want to invite him to your graduation?"
Or maybe I'm just an idiot for not seeing that's what she's been getting at.
Between us, Kynu smacks both palms flat against the tray of his high chair and lets out a squeal of pure triumph. He's got banana in his hair, banana on his chin, banana smeared across both cheeks, and he's grinning at the wreckage like a tiny emperorsurveying conquered territory. Two years old and already convinced that feeding himself is the greatest achievement in human history, and honestly, looking at the state of him, I kind of agree.
Konstantin's office is the last place you'd expect to find a banana-covered toddler in a high chair. The desk alone could pass for a small aircraft carrier, dark and imposing, and the shelves behind it are lined with medical texts and framed degrees that make me feel undereducated just by breathing the same air. Stefano's toys are tucked under the desk (the stuffed bear, the plastic stethoscope), and a framed photo of Eve and the boys sits angled toward Konstantin's chair where only he can see it. But right now, with Kynu's banana massacre in full swing and Eve's half-eaten salad pushed to the side and my own untouched sandwich sitting on a paper plate balanced on my knee because I ran out of table space, the whole room looks like a daycare that accidentally got built inside a hospital.
"I'm just being considerate." I try to sound more earnest than defensive, but I'm not sure it's working, with how Eve's expression only turns dubious.
"This is a very special occasion in every student's life. I don't have parents to share it with, but others do. Not just parents, but siblings, too. By giving up my right to take those seats, I'm freeing them up for someone who needs more."
"Has anyone told you you're a bad liar?"
"Nope."
"That right there is proof of it," Eve points out while reaching for a napkin to wipe off a smudge of banana from her son's cherubic cheeks. Kynu protests by grabbing for the napkin with both fists,and Eve surrenders it without breaking eye contact with me, which is frankly terrifying.
"Oh, um, well—"
It's hard not to sputter when I can already feel my cheeks heating up for, well, lying.
"Y-You're not any better either, are you?" Because I distinctly remember how we talked about her and Konstantin in the past, and how she just had the hardest time hiding her real feelings because...guess what? She's no good at pretending either, so—
