1 My father was suddenly rushed to the ICU. Before they took him in, he clutched my hand, his voice weak, and made me promise I would make things work with Ralph. I smiled and promised I would, just to set his mind at ease. I waited alone outside the ICU, calling Ralph again and again. Finally, around dawn, someone picked up. It was Karina. “Ralph’s busy,” she said, her tone clipped. “He left his phone with me. If you have a message, you can just tell me.” I was silent for a moment. “It’s nothing important,” I finally replied. “Just a divorce.” … My father didn’t make it. From the hospital to the funeral home, I notified relatives, his colleagues at the university, his friends, and his former students. Arranging everything wasn’t as hard as I’d imagined. Every step had a clear process, a checklist to follow. I moved like a marionette, getting it all done. The endless stream of condolence texts and murmured sympathies just made me feel numb. Everyone there who knew Ralph had something to say, their whispers laced with disapproval. Professionally, he was my father’s star protégé; he should have been there to help. Personally, he was his son-in-law; he should have been there, in mourning. But he never showed up. A quick glance at his social media showed he was at an academic conference abroad. In the photos, he was radiant, full of energy and pride. And he had every right to be. He was a young associate professor at one of the country’s top universities, juggling several nationally funded research projects. I had told him everything the moment it happened—texts, messages on every app—that Dad was in the ICU, that he was gone. But there was no reply. I tried to make excuses for him. Maybe he had no signal overseas. Maybe his apps weren't working. Maybe, with the time difference, he just hadn’t seen my messages. Then I saw him like and comment on one of Karina’s posts. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Staring up at the portrait of my father hanging on the wall, it finally hit me. The only person who would ever love me without asking for anything in return was gone. From the moment I first saw Ralph as a teenager, I was captivated. I’d had a silent crush on him for five years and actively pursued him for three before he was finally mine. Chasing him had become a habit, a part of who I was. Three years ago, when I finally married him, I thought I had become the only one who mattered to him. On our wedding day, he told me, “Thank you for always being by my side.” I held those words in my heart. So, after we were married, I continued as I always had—quietly supporting him, making sure never to be a burden. My father was a professor at Westwood University, and the associate dean of his college. Because Ralph didn’t want anyone to accuse him of using connections, I never showed my face around his colleagues. He was always busy, so I waited at home every day, making sure a hot meal was ready the moment he walked through the door, creating a sanctuary where he could relax. I knew Karina was back in the country. I knew they were working on the same project. But I trusted him. He had promised he would be good to me for the rest of his life. But a long pursuit is exhausting. And now, I wasn’t sure I had the strength to keep chasing him anymore. “Here’s my divorce agreement. Can you look it over for me?” I handed the printed document to my best friend, Maya. She was a lawyer and had once joked that if I ever got divorced, I had to hire her. I never thought her words would come true. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen these papers. I’d found a draft in his study once. We fought about it for days. He explained it belonged to a colleague who had asked him for advice. I made him promise then that I would never have to see the words “divorce agreement” again. I never imagined the next time I saw them, I would be the one who had written them. “Don’t you worry,” Maya said, taking the papers with a determined fire in her eyes. “I’ll make sure he walks away with nothing.” She was right. I couldn’t lose my father and my financial security. Now that he was gone, I couldn’t afford to be reckless. I went back to my father’s house to pack up his things. His personal belongings were few and easily sorted. The real challenge was his study, which was filled wall-to-wall with research materials. His illness had come on so suddenly that he hadn’t had time to hand off his many industry-sponsored projects. I realized I barely knew any of his students. Ralph had always been the one to coordinate with them. As my father’s protégé, Ralph had stayed at Westwood after getting his Ph.D., and my father had funneled countless resources and projects his way. It was why, at such a young age, Ralph’s portfolio was more impressive than that of many tenured professors. In fact, the conference he was attending now was for a paper that still had my father’s name on it as a co-author. He was the only person who could handle this transition. After much hesitation, I called him. Still no answer. After the seventh or eighth try, I gave up. The automated voice, “The person you are calling is currently on another call…” was all too familiar. But this time, I didn’t feel the familiar surge of anger. I just felt tired. I ended up calling one of my father’s colleagues to help with the materials. It was from him that I learned the conference Ralph was at was a joint project with the neighboring university. And their lead researcher, who had also traveled abroad for the conference, was Karina. I froze for a second, and then everything clicked into place. Of course. That’s why Karina had answered his phone. Her voice had been thick with arrogance. “Ralph’s busy. He left his phone with me. If you have a message, you can just tell me.” “My father is in the ICU,” I’d said, my voice shaking. “Please tell him to come back as soon as—” “Got it. He’s about to go on stage to give his speech.” She cut me off. “Is there anything else?” she’d asked, her impatience clear. “No, nothing else,” I’d replied, my voice hollow. “Just a divorce. We can talk about it when he’s back.” The next time I saw Ralph was a week later. It was on campus. I was just leaving the Dean’s office when I ran right into him. The Dean had called me in personally, telling me that, per university policy, I was eligible for a position if I wanted one. He had smiled warmly, told me to think it over, and walked me to the door. And there he was. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone neutral. “Good afternoon, Dean,” he said, his eyes moving past me to greet the man standing beside me. “Ralph, my boy. You two are married, if I remember correctly? You should help your wife think about the position. Give her some advice.” Ralph nodded and followed the Dean back into his office. I politely said my goodbyes to the Dean, avoiding Ralph’s gaze. “Wait for me,” he called out suddenly. “We’ll go home together.” I stopped, stunned. A week without seeing him felt like a lifetime, yet here he was, acting as if nothing had changed. His words were meant to be kind, but they landed with a chilling coldness. “Okay,” I agreed. I didn’t want to make a scene in front of the Dean, and we did need to talk about the divorce. I waited in his office for half an hour. Finally, exhausted, I texted him that I was just going to take a cab. I had just stepped outside when I realized a torrential downpour had started. As I stood there, wondering whether to go back inside, Ralph and the Dean emerged. “Eliza, you waited for Ralph! That’s wonderful,” the Dean said jovially. “His research group is having a dinner tonight. I hope you don’t mind if I tag along.” I shook my head. It didn’t matter to me; I wasn’t going anyway. After seeing the Dean to his car, Ralph jogged back over to me. “Eliza, I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to reply to your text earlier,” he said, looking down at me. “The Dean will be at the dinner. It wouldn’t look right if you didn’t come.” So that was it. He was worried about his reputation. Seeing him so anxious, I couldn’t bear it. “Fine, I’ll go.” I gave in again. Not for him, but because I wanted this to end peacefully. His career was important to him, and I wasn’t going to be the one to sabotage it. When we got to his car, I saw that Karina was already in the passenger seat. Ralph turned to me, flustered. “Karina has been a huge help with a recent project, so she’s joining us tonight.” He looked from me, standing by the car door, to her, and his discomfort was obvious. “Karina, maybe you could sit in the back…?” “Oh, Eliza, I’m so sorry,” she said with a sweet smile, not moving an inch. “I’m just so used to sitting here. Let me get out and switch with you.” Before they could finish their little dance, I opened the back door and slid in. I glanced at my watch. “Ralph, if we don’t leave now, we’ll lose the Dean’s car.” This had happened once before. I had made a scene, insisting on my right to the passenger seat. The result was a lecture from Ralph when we got home about how I was being childish and immature. It’s just a seat, Eliza. Does it really matter? Now, I realized it didn’t. I sat quietly in the back, watching the rain streak down the window, my mind on the job offer. The Dean had said I could choose between an administrative or a teaching position, but he’d recommended the former, noting that the academic track had much higher standards for review. I understood his subtext. The administrative job was a favor. The teaching job required real qualifications. Ralph would have been the best person to ask for advice. But watching the two of them in the front seat, I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Karina was chattering away, trying to make conversation. Uncharacteristically, Ralph ignored her, his eyes frequently darting to me in the rearview mirror, trying to pull me into the conversation. But this time, I was the one who didn’t want to talk. Ralph was objectively handsome, with a clean-cut, youthful look that made him look like a student when he was dressed casually. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans today, and the moment he stepped out of the car on campus, a group of his students surrounded him. I followed a few paces behind, watching them chat animatedly. I didn’t know when it had happened, but following him had become my default. And Karina had become the one who stood by his side. Just like now. At the restaurant, they naturally sat down next to each other. The table was crowded, and suddenly, I was the one left standing, the awkward odd one out. “Professor Miller, is this a new student joining our lab? Welcome, welcome!” one of his grad students said, finally noticing me and pulling up an extra chair. I finally sat down. “That’s not a student, you fool,” the Dean interjected with a laugh. “That’s your professor’s wife.” The table fell silent. Then, a female student whispered, just loud enough for many of us to hear, “Oh. I thought Professor Karina was his wife. They shared a room at the conference hotel…” The silence that followed was deafening. Ralph, sitting directly across from me, looked panicked. He was probably terrified I would cause a scene. The old me might have. But now… I didn’t care. I just lowered my head and started eating, pretending I hadn’t heard a thing. “The conference organizers were short one room,” he explained, his eyes fixed on me. “I helped Professor Karina get settled, and then I found another place to stay.” I just smiled a little, a meaningless gesture, and turned the lazy susan to get some more food, acting as if he were talking about someone else entirely. “She wasn’t familiar with the area, so I had to help her get to the hotel.” The other people at the table were starting to look uncomfortable on his behalf. “Eliza, did you hear me?” he pressed. “I know you’re angry, but…” “I’m not angry,” I cut him off. “I understand. She was in a new place, all alone.” I even started making excuses for him. “Don’t you want to ask me anything?” he insisted. Was he trying to provoke me? Did he need me to be angry? I shook my head. Why was he making such a big deal out of this, here of all places? “Let’s just eat,” the Dean said, finally breaking the tension. The conversation quickly shifted to topics I knew nothing about. I just sat there, quietly eating. Karina kept putting food on Ralph’s plate, but he barely touched it. I thought the evening would just fizzle out like that. But then, the Dean brought up my father. “Eliza, it’s such a tragedy about your father. Forgive me for saying so, Ralph, but even if you were overseas, you should have come back.” I nodded slightly in acknowledgement. The raw grief had slowly, painfully, been packed away, thread by thread, deep inside me. “Dean,” Ralph said, his chopsticks frozen in mid-air. “What happened to Professor Hayes?” The table went silent again. “You didn’t know?” the Dean said, his voice full of disbelief. “You didn’t know Professor Hayes passed away from a sudden stroke?”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "386118", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel