Chapter 8

Elias

I got to campus earlier than usual.

Not because I had anything important to do.

Not because I hadn’t slept.

Definitely not because a part of me wanted extra time to pull myself together before class.

I unlocked my office, dropped my bag onto the chair, and stared at the stack of papers waiting on my desk.

Lesson plans.

Attendance sheets.

Emails.

Normal things.

Things that had nothing to do with Candace Hayes.

I focused on those instead.

Or at least I tried.

The image of her sitting across from me at that restaurant refused to leave my head.

Jake’s hand wrapped around hers.

The smile she’d given him.

The panic in her eyes when she realised who I was.

I’d replayed that moment so many times last night that I’d eventually given up on sleep altogether.

I rubbed a hand over my face.

Pull yourself together.

She was your student.

Nothing had happened.

Nothing that couldn’t stay buried.

The knock on my office door made me look up.

“You alive in there?”

I looked over to find Professor Morgan leaning against the doorframe with a coffee in one hand.

“Barely.”

He laughed.

“Welcome to academia.”

I managed a small smile.

“Thanks.”

“How are these few weeks treating you?”

“They’re… good.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Just getting used to it,” I said with a shrug.

“Students giving you trouble already?”

“If only.”

He chuckled.

“You’ll miss the quiet once midterms roll around.”

“I’ve heard.”

Professor Morgan stepped inside, taking a sip from his coffee.

“So? Enjoying teaching?”

I nodded.

“I actually am.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Standing in front of a classroom had always felt strangely natural.

Explaining ideas.

Watching students make connections.

Seeing someone understand something for the first time.

I loved that part.

It was everything outside the classroom that had become complicated.

“Well,” Morgan said, “you’re doing better than I did my first semester. I accidentally dismissed an entire class forty minutes early.”

I laughed.

“I’ll try not to do that.”

“Good plan.”

He looked at his watch.

“I’ve got a faculty meeting. See you around.”

“See you.”

The office fell silent again after he left.

I let out a slow breath.

Pretending everything was fine was becoming exhausting.

The classroom slowly filled with students.

Backpacks dropped onto desks.

Conversations bounced off the walls.

Someone in the back laughed loudly at something on their phone.

I connected my laptop to the projector and opened my lecture slides.

Routine.

Stick to the routine.

I looked toward the door the B the clock, Still a few minutes before class.

Students continued filing in.

Then another student.

Then another.

I looked back at my notes. A moment later…My eyes drifted to the door again.

Without thinking. I frowned.

What are you doing? I looked away.

A few more students arrived and the room was almost full.

I checked the clock again, One minute until class.

My gaze found the doorway again.

Empty.

I picked up the attendance sheet.

Called a few names while people settled down.

The door remained closed.

When the clock hit the hour, I cleared my throat.

“Morning, everyone.”

The chatter died down.

“We’ll continue where we left off last lecture.”

I started teaching. At least my mouth did but my brain kept betraying me.

Every few minutes… I’d look towards the door.

Just for a second.

Just in case.

She never walked in.

By the end of the lecture, I was annoyed with myself.

No.

Annoyed wasn’t the right word.

Disappointed.

And I hated that even more. Why should I care whether she came to class? She shouldn’t matter. She was one student among dozens.

Missing one lecture wasn’t unusual.

People got sick.

Overslept.

Had appointments.

It happened.

So why did the empty seat she’d left behind feel so… noticeable?

Students packed their bags and streamed toward the exit.

“Have a good day, Professor.” someone called on their way out.

“You too.”

I watched the classroom empty until only silence remained.

Office hours were uneventful.

One student wanted clarification on an assignment.

Another asked about recommended reading.

A third wanted to discuss graduate programs.

Normal conversations.

Comfortably ordinary.

Exactly what I needed.

Yet every time footsteps echoed in the hallway, my head lifted before I could stop myself.

Every single time.

By the fourth interruption, I laughed quietly at my own stupidity.

This was ridiculous.

She wasn’t coming.

Even if she wanted to…

Why would she?

Yesterday had been just as impossible for her as it had been for me.

Maybe more.

She’d probably decided avoiding me was easier.

Smart, honestly.

It was probably the same decision I should’ve made.

Late that afternoon, I carried a pile of quizzes to the department office.

The administrative assistant smiled as I approached.

“Need these entered?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“No problem.”

She took the papers before turning back to her computer.

“Oh, while you’re here…”

She clicked a few keys.

“The attendance system updated this morning.”

I nodded absentmindedly.

“Everything looks fine?”

“For the most part.”

She frowned slightly at the screen.

“You’ve got one student who missed today's class and after last semester her grade is on the verge of dropping.”

Something squeezed in my chest.

I shouldn’t have asked.

I knew I shouldn’t have.

Instead, the words came out on their own.

“Who?”

She scanned the screen.

“Candace Winters.”

The room suddenly felt smaller.

“Three failures on this particular class.” She looked up.

“Think she’ll drop the class?”

I forced my expression to stay neutral. “I… couldn’t say.”

“If she doesn’t show up next time, the system will automatically flag her.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She smiled.

“Just university policy.”

“Right.”

I thanked her, picked up the remaining papers, and walked out before she could notice the change in my face.

Candace hadn’t just missed yesterday.

I told myself it wasn’t my problem.

That she was an adult.

That whatever decision she made about her education had nothing to do with me.

So why did I find myself standing motionless in the middle of the hallway, wondering if she was okay?

And why did that question scare me more than anything else?