Chapter 66 Patrick
Tuesday arrives cold and gray, rain tapping steadily against the windows like a quiet omen. I wake slowly, the sound of it pulling me from sleep, and for a moment I just lie there, staring up at the ceiling, letting the weight of the day settle over me.
Today could change everything.
The thought presses in, heavy and unrelenting.
They could reject us.
They could look at what Lottie and I have—what we are—and reduce it to nothing more than a violation. A breach of policy. Something inappropriate. Something punishable.
Lottie could lose credits.
I could be suspended.
This could follow me, stain my record, undo everything I’ve worked for.
My chest tightens as the possibilities spiral, each worse than the last.
But then—just as quickly—another thought pushes through.
What if it doesn’t go wrong?
What if it goes right?
I exhale slowly, my gaze softening as I let that possibility take shape.
What if they acknowledge our bond?
What if they understand?
What if they let her stay in my class… let her remain my TA?
What if we don’t have to fight anymore?
What if we can just be together?
The word settles deep in my chest.
Together.
Then another follows, quieter—but more powerful.
Our.
Our future.
Our life.
Our baby.
A shiver runs down my spine, warmth blooming in its wake. Something soft. Something steady. Something real.
Because we are together now.
No more pretending.
No more pushing her away.
At the thought, guilt creeps in, sharp and undeniable.
I regret it.
All of it.
The distance. The silence. The way I avoided her as if she were something dangerous instead of something I couldn’t live without.
I squeeze my eyes shut briefly.
I know why I did it.
Fear.
Fear of being caught.
Fear of ruining her academic career.
Fear of destroying my own.
But more than that—
Fear of how much I feel for her.
It’s overwhelming.
All-consuming.
Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
And if I’m honest…
I don’t always know what to do with it.
What if I mess this up?
The thought slips in quietly.
What if I do something wrong?
What if I hurt her?
What if she sees something in me she doesn’t like?
What if—
I shake my head sharply, pushing the thoughts away as I sit up.
“No,” I mutter under my breath.
Too much.
Way too much for first thing in the morning.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, forcing myself into motion. Bathroom. Shower. Routine. Something to ground me before my mind runs too far ahead.
The hot water helps.
It loosens the tension in my shoulders, washes away the lingering anxiety clinging to my skin. I stand there longer than I mean to, letting the heat soak in, trying to steady myself for what’s coming.
By the time I step out, towel wrapped around my waist, I feel… not calm, exactly.
But better.
More centered.
I grab my phone as I towel-dry my hair, unlocking it with damp fingers.
There’s a message from Lottie.
\[Hey, forgot to ask you what time the meeting is today?\]
A small smile pulls at my lips instantly.
Even now—today of all days—she sounds so normal. So steady. Like this isn’t something to fear.
I type back quickly.
\[Hey, the meeting is at ten. Why?\]
Her reply comes almost immediately.
An eye-roll emoji.
Then:
\[Because I’m going with you. Duh.\]
A quiet laugh escapes me, unexpected and genuine.
Of course she is.
Of course, she wouldn’t let me face this alone.
Warmth spreads through my chest.
She’s so… her.
Confident. Certain. Unwavering.
Where I hesitate—she moves forward.
I stare at the screen for a moment before typing:
\[Oh.\]
Her response is instant again.
\[I’ll meet you at your place at 9:30, and we’ll go over together.\]
I can almost hear the humor in her voice. The quiet insistence. The ‘this is happening’ tone.
It makes my smile deepen.
\[Okay.\] I type back.
Then I pause.
Hesitate.
Before adding a kissy face emoji.
I stare at it for a second after sending it, a faint flush creeping up my neck.
God.
I really am gone for her.
Completely.
And for once—
That thought doesn’t scare me.
Not even a little.
Lottie shows up right on time.
Somehow, that alone steadies me more than I expect it to.
There’s something about it—about her being exactly where she said she’d be, exactly when she said she would—that settles the restless energy in my chest. It’s a quiet reassurance.
She’s here.
She’s in this with me.
Not just with me—but with me.
Fully.
The doorbell rings, sharp against the muted rhythm of the rain, and I’m moving before I even realize it. I open the door quickly, a little more breathless than I mean to be.
“Hey—good morning,” I say, my voice slightly rushed. “Ready to do this?”
She smiles at me.
And just like that, the gray, rainy morning feels a little brighter.
It’s ridiculous, really—how much her expression alone can shift something in me. But it does. Every time.
I find myself smiling back without thinking.
“Ready,” she says easily.
I grab my umbrella, stepping out beside her and opening it over both of us. The rain is steady but light, a fine mist that clings to the air more than it falls, but I angle the umbrella anyway, instinctively shielding her as we walk.
We move toward the car together, close enough that our shoulders brush with each step.
At the passenger side, she pauses, taking the umbrella from my hand without a word while I slide into the seat. There’s something practiced in the motion—natural, like we’ve done this a hundred times before, instead of… what? This being our first time?
I watch her as she circles the car, tossing the umbrella into the back seat before slipping behind the wheel.
The engine hums to life.
She shifts into gear.
And we’re moving.
I glance over at her as she drives, my gaze lingering longer than it should. The quiet focus on her face. The way her hands rest steady on the wheel.
This—this feels normal.
Dangerously normal.
My chest tightens slightly as the reality of where we’re going creeps back in.
The administrative building.
I haven’t set foot in there since before I started teaching. There was never any reason to.
Until now.
Now I’m going back for disciplinary action.
The thought lands heavy, threatening to pull me under again.
I inhale slowly, trying to steady myself—
And then her hand slips into mine.
Cool.
Dry.
Grounding.
I turn my head, blinking at her slightly in surprise. She’s still looking at the road, but there’s a small smile playing at her lips.
I can’t help the one that crosses my lips in response.
“What?” I ask softly.
She shakes her head, glancing at me briefly before returning her attention forward.
“Nothing,” she says. “Sometimes I just… can’t believe this is real.”
I tilt my head slightly, listening.
“That I get to be around you like this,” she continues. “That I can touch you, hold your hand, kiss you if I want—without you pulling away.”
Heat rises to my face, and I look down at where our fingers are intertwined.
“It’s a shock for me too,” I admit quietly. “That after everything… after all the resistance…you still want me like that.”
She doesn’t hesitate.
“You were it for me from the moment I saw you,” she says. “Before I even knew about the bond.”
The certainty in her voice does something to me—something deep and unshakable.
I nod faintly, turning my gaze toward the window as the campus comes into view, rain streaking softly against the glass.
We pull into the lot, and my stomach tightens again as she parks.
This is it.
A sharp pulse of nervous energy shoots through me, making me shift slightly in my seat.
“Hold on,” she says.
Before I can ask what she means, she’s already out of the car.
I watch through the window as she grabs the umbrella from the back seat, pops it open, and comes around to my side.
She opens the door and positions the umbrella over me before I can even step out.
I look up at her, a quiet gratitude settling in my chest.
I really do hate the rain.
We walk together toward the administrative building, the sound of raindrops soft against the umbrella above us.
When we reach the doors, she stops.
I pause beside her.
She turns to me, her expression steady, then reaches for my hand again, her fingers threading through mine with quiet certainty.
“No matter what happens,” she says, her voice calm but firm, “we’ve got this.”
My chest tightens—but not from fear this time.
“We’ll handle whatever comes,” she continues. “Together.”
Together.
The word settles over me, warm and solid.
I squeeze her hand gently, a small smile pulling at my lips as something inside me finally steadies.
I’m not alone.
Not anymore.
She’s here.
With me.
And whatever comes next—
We’ll face it.
Together.