Page 64 of A Discovery: Love and Other Things

What does one wear to a disciplinary meeting at the ministry? Apparently, nothing from Angela Bowman’s wardrobe. She had tried to loan me a white fitted turtleneck dress that displayed my belly button through the material. I’d politely refused. This wasn’tBasic Instinct.

Black.You wear black. In my case, black pants with a black shirt that was buttoned all the way up to my neck. I believed that a woman could wear whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, but today, I wasn’t leaving anything to chance, least of all my attire.

The hallway outside of the boardroom was empty. The plastic chair creaked as I tapped my foot at hummingbird speed against the leg, which echoed against the walls. I was nervous, and the entire floor would hear it.

The tapping also helped to drown out the sound of the board members inside discussing my fate. The voices were deep and there were many of them. It seemed I would be the lucky participant in a not-so-fun, all-male review. Another bro clubshouldn’t have surprised me; I was the one who was stupid enough to have expected something different. Would it hurt anyone to have a woman on these boards for a change?!Sheesh.

I clutched my notebook to my chest, my fingers digging into the spiral wire. I didn’t know what to bring with me, and a notebook seemed appropriate. Maybe I could use it to write down all the adjectives they used to describe my “behavior” and make a collage of them afterward to commemorate this failed internship.

The longer I sat there listening to my name uttered through the walls, the hotter my skin grew from embarrassment, and the more my stomach churned like I had just drunk a twenty-four-ounce Nitro Brew on an empty stomach.Barf.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and my foot fell still from its tapping. Expensive male shoes captured my attention, and I let my gaze travel up to find their owner.

“James,” I gasped.

Our eyes locked, but his weren’t the lively blue I was used to seeing when they looked at me. These before me were tired and dull. His whole face looked exhausted, from the bags that hollowed out his eyes to his unshaven jaw, covered in thick stubble—the most I had ever seen on him. Yet, somehow, he had still managed to dress impeccably in a gray suit with a navy tie.

“Sanura.” His voice was hoarse as he held my gaze, studying my face as if he were seeing me for the first time. Like he had forgotten me.

My mouth opened, but I couldn’t find the right words. He had ghosted me. After that horrible day at the site, I had just wanted to know he was alright, and he’d left me hanging. He hadn’t bothered to check on me. How about how I was? Did I not matter enough to him to reach out?

“I-I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Neither did I.” He took the seat across from me. Navy-blue and gray argyle-patterned socks were on display under the cuffs of his pants.

The ministry had been very discreet in their email, so I didn’t know what—orwhom—to expect.

He propped his leg up on his knee and clasped his fingers over it. His frame was too tall for the chair, but he managed to sit in it with his spine tall and his elbows flared, never compromising his stature for the chair’s shortcomings.

My cheeks heated under his stare, though they shouldn’t have. He’d made it clear that we were over. It was better for the both of us if I moved on...fast.

We sat in painful silence for some time. Every minute felt like an hour. Occasionally, I’d turn to check the doorway, hoping that someone would call for me. Yeah, I was desperate enough that I’d rather be eviscerated by some man with small-dick syndrome than sit with James in silence for another moment longer.

He licked his lips, running his tongue along the bottom slowly, and I cursed myself for watching—for being hypnotized.Old habits die hard.He started, “Sanura, I—”

Suddenly, the door to the boardroom swung open and a tall man with a full head of dark hair emerged. “Dr. Campbell. Ms. Taha. Please, come in.”

A two-for-one hanging.Lovely.

James held out his hand, signaling me to pass first. I padded through the door into the spacious room. It was more like a courtroom than a boardroom, with a long desk at the far end and each of its eight spots occupied by a man in a suit. Each minister came in different flavors: dark-haired, graying, semi-bald, and bald.Collect ’em all.

I recognized the man in the middle with thinning gray hair and a slim build. He was the man from the site, the one who’d given James a migraine. The name plate before him read “Mahmoud Emara, Minister of State.”Shit. He was the head of the ministry.

I’d known this was bad, but it had just gotten a whole lot worse. I was going to jail today, just as I had promised Mom I wouldn’t do.

There were no seats available for us in front of the polished wooden pulpit, so I stood on wobbly knees, clinging to my notebook. I was about two seconds away from pulling my pen from my pocket and clicking away my anxiety.

James stood next to me, hands clasped in front of him, waiting for the board to begin. He seemed oddly at ease. Not comfortable like he was at a spa getting a massage, but more like a robot. No emotions, just existing—waiting for the next command—so unlike the fiery man I had met in the desert nearly eight weeks ago.

Mr. Emara shuffled some papers on the table and read through them through his thin-framed glasses. He took the frames off and rested one arm’s end against his lips as he peered down at James. “Dr. Campbell, are you aware of why you are here today?”

James’s chest puffed out at attention. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Emara waved him on. “Tell me in your own words what happened.”

Oh, God, he was going to make us say it out loud. This couldn’t get any more mortifying. Maybe if I passed out, they’d skip my turn!

“I had inappropriate relations with a student.” James’s voice rang clearly through my ears, his words slicing my heart in half.

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