The Runaway Professor

28. Pain of Loss

Tw: talk of child loss, trauma

*Cate's POV*

me: You scared me when you left. Are you okay? Did I overstep?
me: I'm sorry
me: I'm so sorry, darling
    09:34 a.m.

Sighing, I attempted to teach my second period. It was an impossible task to accomplish. The knowledge of possible danger to Delia freaked me out like hell.
Barely managing to excuse my lecture, I found myself wandering down the hallway to my office.

me: please say something
    10:15 a.m.

Unbothered who might come into my way of line I bumped into someone, resulting in a large stack of books crashing to the floor and a groan of frustration to follow.

Michael Collin, my colleague, fixed the round glasses on top of his nose. Scratching the back of his head his flustered state was almost amusing.

"Apologies," he said, bending down to gather the books. "I could barely see over the stack."

"Nonesense, I didn't look where I was going. I am the one to apologize." Smiling softly, I found him relaxing a little and we both carried the books, now able to glimpse over the tops in our arms.

It was mostly quiet as I helped him stack the textbooks in his office. The items neatly lined up, I set to leave, my hand already embraced the doorknob, when he said, "Catherine?"

"Cate," I said. "I insist."

"Cate," Michael began, a slight nervous tremor in his voice. I had learned over time, that it was not out of the ordinary to find him stuttering unless talking about his passion. Mathematics and statistics. "Have you seen Miss Woods and Miss Clark? I have not seen either of them in my class today, and I— well, I suppose asking if they simply missed other classes was smarter than writing them up— they could just be sick, no?" His cheeks flushed pink.

Both missed their classes? "No worries, I talked to both and I suppose they got caught up with organizations for the celebrations." I put on my best performance to smile. "Christmas is a stressful time— have you heard that Marylin is gathering a small get together? Will you be able to make it?"

He turned into a tomato at this point, too flustered to fathom the sudden change of topic. It may be a sneaky move, but a helpful one at that. Not even five minutes later, I was back in my office, the lovely scent of peonies and softness still lingered within these walls. I have come to adore her new perfume. I enjoyed her prior one, this one just suits my little dove a little better. Her gentle nature was admirable... and once more my concern was wrapped around my neck as a scarf being pulled tight. Sometimes, being a mom was lovely. The instincts came in handy. On days like today, it was both appreciated and a curse.

Phone in hand I tapped away more messages, not caring about the possibility of her just sitting in a library chuckling and studying with friends.

me: sometimes you have trouble vocalizing discomfort. Will you at least text me back?
me: Delia. I know, you are in class, but you spent it on your phone most of the time anyway, so please answer me. I mean it.
me: I'm worried. Really fucking worried.
    10:29 a.m.

me: Cordelia!
    11:10 a.m.

God, I was desperate and not even ashamed.

It's been hours. Hours since I last spoke to her. Since she worried me sick with her sudden leaving.

Staring at my phone, her caller ID finally pooped up on my screen. I was truly relieved as I was furious with her.

"Cordelia Serena Clark! What on earth was so fucking important that you couldn't answer? Professor Collin just passed me by in the hallway and asked if I knew where you were—"