One Year Ago
“E XCUSE ME , may I sit here?”
I managed to hold in my sigh, but only barely. I knew it had been a mistake to bring my laptop to the train’s Pacific Parlour Car, but I’d wanted a drink and I hadn’t been keen on carrying it from the bar to my small roomette. I was too likely to spill it, what with the motion of the train. Besides, I’d reasoned, I’d secluded myself in my room upon departing Seattle the day before, and the train couldn’t possibly be that crowded the day after Christmas, could it?
That assumption had been horribly wrong, as it turned out. I’d managed to grab a corner table in the lounge area of the car, but it was packed. I was lucky someone hadn’t taken the seat next to me up until then.
I raised my eyes from my laptop’s display to peer over my glasses at the gentleman who stood in front of me, holding a glass of wine and looking at me enquiringly. He was tall—probably an inch or two over my own six-foot stature—and his tousled hair was a rather striking shade of silver. I couldn’t help but notice that it matched his eyes almost exactly, and idly wondered how eyes so gray could be so warm. Maybe it was the laugh lines at the corners. The silver extended down his face in a bit of scruff, and his mouth held the quirk of a smile. He was stunning.
And he was the man my college boyfriend had cheated on me with.
I stared at him for a moment, my face flushing in mortification as I watched his eyes widen with horrified recognition. “Don’t worry, Dr. Wise,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m leaving.” Because time may heal all wounds, but humiliation was a powerful thing.
The silver fox blinked, then regained his composure. “Elliot,” he said softly. “Wait.”
I paused in the process of slamming my laptop closed and glared up at him. “It’s been, what, ten years since I’ve seen you? I’m not interested in chatting about the past. I may be well over what happened, but that doesn’t mean I have to be friends with you.”
“Please.”
His voice was quiet, but there was a note of urgency that I found I couldn’t ignore, no matter how much I may have wanted to. With a heavy sigh, I gestured to the seat next to me, then slid my laptop out of the way so he could use the table.
He gave me a grateful look as he took a seat, placing his glass on the table. “Nothing happened.”
I snorted. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? I saw what I saw.”
And what I had seen had broken my heart.
The entire last quarter before I gained my bachelor’s degree, I’d been meeting up with my boyfriend in the classroom where his anthropology course was held. I’d enjoyed it not only because I liked being with Tim, but because his professor—one Dr. Howard Wise, PhD—had no qualms about discussing his chosen area of study with me, despite the fact that I was a business major. And, yeah, I’ll admit that I’d appreciated the view, but it was well-known that Dr. Wise had been with his life partner for nearly fifteen years, and I was happy with Tim at any rate.
And then, two weeks before my graduation, I’d walked into the classroom that had become my happy place to find Tim and Dr. Wise in a lip-lock that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a passionate kiss. I’d blinked, said something along the lines of “I see,” and walked out.
I hadn’t spoken to Tim since. Because I elected to get my MBA at a different university, I also hadn’t seen Dr. Wise again.
I eyed my drink, thinking I’d need at least one more to get through this conversation.
“I know what you saw,” Dr. Wise said, then took a sip from his glass. He was so close that I could smell the fruity tang of it. “But you also didn’t see what happened before you walked in and after you left.”
“Enlighten me,” I said, the words heavy with sarcasm. I took a bracing gulp from my own drink, grimacing a little. It was more rum than orange juice, and it burned going down. Just
“E XCUSE ME , may I sit here?”
I managed to hold in my sigh, but only barely. I knew it had been a mistake to bring my laptop to the train’s Pacific Parlour Car, but I’d wanted a drink and I hadn’t been keen on carrying it from the bar to my small roomette. I was too likely to spill it, what with the motion of the train. Besides, I’d reasoned, I’d secluded myself in my room upon departing Seattle the day before, and the train couldn’t possibly be that crowded the day after Christmas, could it?
That assumption had been horribly wrong, as it turned out. I’d managed to grab a corner table in the lounge area of the car, but it was packed. I was lucky someone hadn’t taken the seat next to me up until then.
I raised my eyes from my laptop’s display to peer over my glasses at the gentleman who stood in front of me, holding a glass of wine and looking at me enquiringly. He was tall—probably an inch or two over my own six-foot stature—and his tousled hair was a rather striking shade of silver. I couldn’t help but notice that it matched his eyes almost exactly, and idly wondered how eyes so gray could be so warm. Maybe it was the laugh lines at the corners. The silver extended down his face in a bit of scruff, and his mouth held the quirk of a smile. He was stunning.
And he was the man my college boyfriend had cheated on me with.
I stared at him for a moment, my face flushing in mortification as I watched his eyes widen with horrified recognition. “Don’t worry, Dr. Wise,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m leaving.” Because time may heal all wounds, but humiliation was a powerful thing.
The silver fox blinked, then regained his composure. “Elliot,” he said softly. “Wait.”
I paused in the process of slamming my laptop closed and glared up at him. “It’s been, what, ten years since I’ve seen you? I’m not interested in chatting about the past. I may be well over what happened, but that doesn’t mean I have to be friends with you.”
“Please.”
His voice was quiet, but there was a note of urgency that I found I couldn’t ignore, no matter how much I may have wanted to. With a heavy sigh, I gestured to the seat next to me, then slid my laptop out of the way so he could use the table.
He gave me a grateful look as he took a seat, placing his glass on the table. “Nothing happened.”
I snorted. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? I saw what I saw.”
And what I had seen had broken my heart.
The entire last quarter before I gained my bachelor’s degree, I’d been meeting up with my boyfriend in the classroom where his anthropology course was held. I’d enjoyed it not only because I liked being with Tim, but because his professor—one Dr. Howard Wise, PhD—had no qualms about discussing his chosen area of study with me, despite the fact that I was a business major. And, yeah, I’ll admit that I’d appreciated the view, but it was well-known that Dr. Wise had been with his life partner for nearly fifteen years, and I was happy with Tim at any rate.
And then, two weeks before my graduation, I’d walked into the classroom that had become my happy place to find Tim and Dr. Wise in a lip-lock that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a passionate kiss. I’d blinked, said something along the lines of “I see,” and walked out.
I hadn’t spoken to Tim since. Because I elected to get my MBA at a different university, I also hadn’t seen Dr. Wise again.
I eyed my drink, thinking I’d need at least one more to get through this conversation.
“I know what you saw,” Dr. Wise said, then took a sip from his glass. He was so close that I could smell the fruity tang of it. “But you also didn’t see what happened before you walked in and after you left.”
“Enlighten me,” I said, the words heavy with sarcasm. I took a bracing gulp from my own drink, grimacing a little. It was more rum than orange juice, and it burned going down. Just
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