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My hands get clammy and I start to rub them on my jeans, looking away in thought. It’s not that he makes me uncomfortable—he doesn’t. But he’s still my professor, and as much as I don’t see any ill intentions on his side, he knows so much now…

It’s embarrassing, honestly.

Does he pity me? Is he disgusted?

“Willow,” he calls. “It’s just a ride; it’s no hassle. Come on, you can take care of the car tomorrow. It’s getting late.”

“Yes, I—okay. Thank you.”

Gathering all my stuff, I get out of the car and follow him to his. While doing it, I look around. Other than a couple of cars, the parking lot is empty by now, and thank god it’s dark because even though this is just an innocent ride, I wouldn’t want anyone to see me getting in his car.

People can be cruel. I’ve seen it first-hand more times than I’d like to admit, and rumours about being involved with my professor are the last problem I need to add to my long list of existing ones.

Still, Arthur is slowly becoming a friend, I reckon. Everything I didn’t expect but surely appreciate. He is kind and understanding, much more than I could ever imagine. He’s respectful—well, since he stopped being an asshole anyway. And knowing the reason makes such a difference now. He was doing it to keep his distance, to protect his heart.

The passenger door opens, and I smile shyly before entering the car. It only takes him a few seconds to close my door and circle the vehicle onto his side. He starts driving right away, already knowing my address.

“How have you been since that night?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh, uh…” I stutter. “We worked things out. Well, most of it.”

“Was he mad that Dylan wasn’t his?”

Right.

“Well, I forgot to mention because it seriously hadn’t crossed my mind before but, he could be…though, I think it’s very unlikely,” I admit, avoiding his gaze.

“But you said—”

“Yeah, but there were these two times that the condom broke, and—” I cut myself short. There is no way I am telling him about this. That’swaytoo intimate. “Nevermind.”

“Still,” he presses. “It’s not fair. You got pregnant at sixteen. You went through something traumatic and had to raise him by yourself while he was partying his way through college.”

“Life isn’t fair,” I comment. “And it’s not his fault. We both were irresponsible, and well, I thought Dylan wasn’t his to begin with. But now, I have hope,” I whisper the last word, afraid that if I hold on to it, it will break me all over again.

“Hope?”

“Yeah, that Dylan is Liam’s. That my beautiful, smart, and loving kid is not a rapist’s son.” I choke out the last part and jump when his big rough hand engulfs mine.

“Even if he is, Willow, he is yours more than anyone else’s.” He gives me a fleeting smile before focusing back on the road. “Now, this might sound inappropriate, but I am saying this as a friend. Of course, he had to be beautiful, smart, and loving. It’s because he’s yours.”

My breath hitches, barely managing a thank you. He smiles, patting my hand before retreating his back to the wheel. We stay silent for the remainder of the drive to my house, taking only a few more minutes.

“Thank you so much, Arthur,” I tell him when we arrive. “For all of the help and understanding. For everything.”

“Any time, Willow.”

THIRTY-ONE

Willow

“Baby,wakeup,”Iwhisper.

“Hmm, no.” His chest vibrates from the groan he lets out.

“I have a surprise for you.” One of his eyes sneakily opens, looking at me expectantly. “We’re visiting the aquarium today.”

And just like that, he jumps out of his bed, running towards the dresser. I follow close behind, chuckling at his enthusiasm.

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