The Heart That's Meant to Love You

Chapter 74: Return

Kieran stared at the final assignments before him. One last class, and then the exam. After that, he would leave the college professor life behind and go back to his normal routine. Graduation was just around the corner, and then all of this would be behind him.

A clever excuse had alleviated Kieran of the need to go model for the painting class. They would spend their last few hours finishing projects to submit for graduation approval. And Kieran would stay far away, lest his resolve crack any further.

His text tone called out, an ominous reminder of his decision.

Kieran didn't bother to pick up the phone, he merely read the text from where it lay.

What's for dinner? I want steak, what about you?  From Tawny, of course. She had been extra clingy these past days. Kieran wanted to believe that she had turned over a new leaf, but instead he found her behavior suspicious.

Tawny didn't often think about others unless she needed something from them. In fact, the last time she had been so nice to Kieran had been after she borrowed a few grand from Patrick that she couldn't pay back.

I swear, if this girl put us in deeper debt... Kieran inhaled through his nose, working to steady his already frazzled and sleep-deprived brain.

Since he didn't have the energy to talk with her over the phone at that moment, Kieran made do with a brief reply of, I'll bring something back for us.

"She'd better not be planning something," Kieran muttered aloud.

"That's not a nice way to talk to a girl."

Kieran jumped out of the chair, startled by Professor McNally's voice. What kind of magic trick was that? He hadn't been to the office in over a week and— Oh. Kieran's eyes landed on the open doorway, wherein Professor McNally stood with one hand on the doorknob and a briefcase in the other. When had he come in?

"I do love that look of terror that crosses your face when I appear." Professor McNally stretched an arm above his head triumphantly. "It's really a power trip."

Kieran ignored that entire diatribe, his focus on the professor's briefcase. "Are you back to work now?"

"I can't let you have all the fun." Professor McNally shut the door behind himself. "Also, I received a complaint that you're failing one of my most talented students. Benjamin... Ben... something."

Oh, yes. Ben.

Kieran had docked some points on Ben's last grade—due to personal reasons, he would admit—but he wouldn't exactly call that "failing him". He had every intention of giving him a fair final grade.

Given the touchy nature of that subject, Kieran moved on to other matters. "How was Bali?"

"Bali?" Professor McNally took a moment to think. "Oh, right. Bali. Bali was... nice?"

"You never went to Bali, did you?" Kieran deadpanned, his glare directed at his favorite and most annoying professor.

Kieran had suspected as much for a long time. It had been such a convenient excuse, and Professor McNally had reappeared so quickly after he left. Kieran wouldn't be a real man if he didn't hold a modicum of suspicion toward the sheer convenience of it all.

"No, no. I visited. Briefly." Professor McNally heaved a sigh as he headed for his sofa. "I suppose it's time to be straight with you."

"You haven't been?"

"I've told a few fibs."

Yes, because Kieran never saw that coming. A roll of Kieran's eyes went mercifully unnoticed by Professor McNally.

"What kind of fibs are we talking about?" Kieran prodded.

"Well, you know. Life is fleeting and moments are few. One misjudgment can lead to a maelstrom of fear and worry—"

"Professor, you teach photography, not psychology. Tell it to me straight. Where were you and why are you back?"

"I had a minor heart problem that required a minimally invasive procedure. I didn't want anyone to worry." Professor McNally sank onto the sofa with a dramatic flourish. "But the wife found out."

That sounded more accurate to the clues that Kieran had been seeing along the way. Professor McNally's nature didn't seem to fit with the way he had skirted around subjects.

"What did the wife say?" Kieran asked.

"She's angry that I wasn't honest with her, and I don't blame her, really." Professor McNally shrugged. "But it looks like I'll need to do a bit of coaxing and a lot of sleeping here at the office."

"That's a bummer." Kieran returned to the seat he had been occupying before the professor interrupted. "You want to do the final grades instead of me?"

"Not really. Continue." Professor McNally stretched out like he might nap. "But let me tell you something, son. It's fine for my wife and I to discuss our own situation, but you can't get angry like you were getting angry with the girl on the other end of your phone. That's just not healthy."

Kieran uttered a grunt in response, then decided he might as well ask since he was going to get the answer anyway. "How do you do it? Stay with your wife all these years?"

"That?" Professor McNally laughed. "A whole heaping of good communication."

Yeah, well, Kieran sucked at communication. For a whole host of reasons.

"And because I love her," Professor McNally continued.

Kieran froze, his fingers hovered above the keyboard. "Because you love her?"

It couldn't be as simple as that. It couldn't be watered down into a fact so simple that it pained Kieran to hear the word. Trust, responsibility, duty. Didn't they all have a place in life decisions as important as marriage?

"Simple as that," Professor McNally said as though he had read Kieran's mind. "People say love is blind and stupid, but they're wrong. Love sees everything and knows it's there. It just chooses not to keep a list. Love chooses to see those shortcomings and think of them as advantages."

Kieran had never heard it phrased quite like that. Nor did he like the growing, gnawing pain of realization in his gut. Had he been chasing responsibility and duty, and all the while giving up on what really mattered? Would love bide him through years to come or would it shatter and disperse as quickly as all the relationships he had ever known?

For the first time, Kieran didn't know why he had chosen Tawny. He didn't understand what he had been doing for the past years. His world had been upended with a few turns of a phrase, and now he had questions to ask himself. Questions that he could not, under any circumstances, allow to go unanswered.