15

Jennie's POV 

I regret it the moment I step into the restaurant. I hate this place. I can already smell the seafood I've always told Oliver that I don't like.

He's sitting at a table that's right in the middle of the restaurant. His hair is impeccably done as always, so is his suit, and so is his mannerisms as he speaks with a waitress serving wine. She's leaning forward and showing a good amount of her cleavage. Oliver doesn't seem to mind it, instead, he gives her an appreciative once-over before looking up.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Is this the life I'm really going to be choosing?

“Baby, over here.” my boyfriend waves and I fix my expression. I can't believe I left Cara at our place for this. She’s clearly unhappy with my choice, but she also understands the logic behind the decision. I hate this so much. I walk over to Oliver in my kitten heels and he doesn't even eye me up like he did with that woman.

“Hi,” I say softly as I slide into the seat he reserved for us. From the corner of my eyes, I spot a couple together. The man in a grey suit pulls a chair out for the lady, and she gives him a warm smile before sitting…the sight makes my chest hurt.

Dear heart, I need you to please work with me…this is our life at stake.

“They've got some really good stuff. Wine?” Oliver asks and I shake my head politely. I don’t want wine; I’m not in the mood for it. He also doesn’t seem to be in the mood for it, because he waves the busty waiter over to place an order for both of us.

“Fuck, I’ve been hungry all day. I could eat a horse,” he says with a boyish grin that I can't return. The smell of shrimp is bothering me. I mask my discomfort by picking up the cup of water and starting an irrelevant conversation. “What did you do all day?” I ask and he shrugs.

“Just stuffs here and there. Who would have thought college would end up being this much work? I thought we’d have more freedom,” he says.

“It’s different from high school. It's all new experiences…” I trail off as a naughty thought forms in my mind. I mean, for starters, I have never given a teacher a fake name at a nightclub before. I shake my head to throw the thoughts away. Professor Moreau will not invade my thoughts today too.

“But really, what’s got you all flighty, Jen?” Oliver asks softly and I lean back in the chair. “I’m not flighty,” I say defensively and he laughs softly. “Yeah right. You’ve been tense around me a lot and it’s not like I ever hurt you or anything,” he says and I trace a finger over the rim of my water. I think I need that wine now. 

“I already told you. It's just stress,” I lie.

“This date was to have a moment to talk with you, but you’re not even looking at me,” he says and I take my eyes off the table. 

“You don't want this?” he asks and my heart cracks. My lips part to give an answer, but just before I'd say anything, the door opens and a man in dark clothes and an even darker aura walks in with his jacket draped over his arm. He looks exactly like the man who fucked me at that nightclub. No…oh no. Not this today. Why is professor Moreau here?

“That's the answer, isn't it? You actually don't want this with me.“ Oliver concludes and my eyes snap to his face. He looks like he really thinks so. I can't let him think so. My eyes move between the professor who is walking to an isolated seat, and my boyfriend who is trying to hold a conversation with me. I'm ruined in every way possible, aren't I?

“It's not like that,” I say with a choked up voice.

“I feel boxed, Jen. You don't let me kiss you, don't let me touch you. It's clear you don't feel…”

Buzz.

“Your phone.“ I point at the buzzing device and his eyes move from my face to his phone. And just like that, the look of worry morphs into irritation. He picks up the phone and gets up immediately.

“Hey…I have to leave, it's the gym,” he says and my brows pull together in concern. He has been obsessed with his gym membership these days, and who am I to complain? “Is everything okay?“ I ask and he nods. He comes to my side of the table to plant a kiss on my forehead.

“You can get an Uber, right?” he asks and don't even complete my act of nodding before he leaves. Okay…what the actual fuck just happened?

This is the date we're supposed to have and he's leaving me behind for his gym. I go slack in my seat and stare straight ahead. When I think this clusterfuck of a day is over, I hear a thunderclap. Great. Isn't it just the perfect time for it to rain?

Not wanting to be here anymore, I reach for my phone. I'd order a ride and go back home to Cara. I feel around the interior of my bag for my phone, and when I don't feel it, I start to panic. Oh God, there is no way I forgot my phone.

“God, what is wrong with me?“ I groan and run my fingers through my hair.

I don't know why, but I turn my head, and I find professor Moreau calmly eating his dinner. He's not looking at me, but the way his lips wrap around the fork…Fuck. This is messed up. I don't eat anything at the table and my belly starts to grumble. After one hour of waiting here shamefully, I get up to leave.

The rain pounds down on me and I stand there like an idiot. No phone. No boyfriend. Plenty shame. And plenty guilt.

An expensive black car drives past me and I lift my head in time to see professor Moreau through the tinted window that's being rolled up. A part of me hopes that he'd stop, but he doesn't, he drives past me and my heart sinks.