BEHIND CLOSED DOORS | 18+ |✔

35

c h a p t e r      t h i r t y - f i v e 

"Antonia." 

His voice was the same as five months ago, deep, husky and resonating. When it reached her ears, she realized just how much she had craved to hear it again—how much she had missed him calling her name. 

But the rage was paramount, and as much as the voice brought back sweet memories of the two months they had spent together, it reminded her of his betrayal. 

Antonia chose to stay silent. She would not let him assume that everything was alright after all these months. Even if all of her existence screamed at her to run into his arms and shed all the remaining tears in his chest, she would not. She had endured it for five months, she could endure it for a little more. 

"Antonia, I-"

She felt the phone slide from her grasp, and looking right, she saw Emma hold the same phone to her ear after snatching it. A part of her was thankful because she did not know if she could bear hearing his voice and not hold him at the same time. 

"You have some nerve calling her after all this time," Emma's voice was pure venom, "and act as if nothing happened, Professor Rhys Clyde." 

Antonia wanted to hear what he was saying on the other end, but judging by the poisonous words that Emma threw at him like darts, it was safe to assume that he was being wisely silent. 

"Oh, you want to see her now? Guess what," Emma spat, "she has moved on from whatever the fuck was going on between you two. So stay away fro-" 

The history professor saw her best friend jerk a little, and then she went oddly silent for a few seconds, listening intently on the phone with a grim expression and then she put down the mobile from her ear. 

"The audacity of that-" she was running low on profanities to describe the chancellor, like nothing would be insulting enough for him.

"What did he say?" Antonia wanted to fall asleep if she already was not so that she could rule this out as a dream. 

"Nothing much," Emma put the phone on the table, "he's on his way here now. So he asked me to leave, no actually, ordered me to leave before he reached. Who does he think he is, my boss?" 

"Technically," Antonia pointed out, "he never officially resigned from the post of the chancellor. So he is, still our boss." 

"Motherfucker." 

Now that the initial shock of him returning had passed, Antonia felt relieved. She felt relieved because he was alright, and was coming to meet her. She would not forgive him, no, not so easy, but she wanted to see him—check for herself that he was still the same. 

Emma excused herself hesitatingly, suggesting that she should hide in the bathroom and ambush him when he arrived, but ultimately left, knowing that both of them needed closure for themselves. She had seen Antonia suffer for five months, but she also knew, by his voice when she had held the phone, that he had suffered the same, if not more. 

As she waited for a cab, she wondered if love really did increase when the lovers were apart.