The Professor

Chapter Forty-Five

"So, how are things going?"

I cringe at my mother's untimely question. After my little breakdown in Dean's office earlier today, he told me to meet him at his apartment later that night so we could talk. I just sat down on the couch when she called me. I only answered to keep her from being suspicious.

"Great," I say in an attempt to sound happier than I am. "Everything's great." Yeah right. I look to Dean for support. I wish she could understand the sarcasm.

"We all miss you. When do you think you'll be home next?"

My eyes widen and I look at Dean, asking him to help me. My hesitation grabs my mother's attention and she calls my name. "Claire?"

"Um, I don't know," I say shakily. "Things are getting a little hectic with classes. Tons of papers to write."

Dean nods his head as his way of telling me that's a good cover up.

"Well we'd really love to see you--at least I know I would. Maybe we can come visit you on a Sunday and all go out to lunch. You can even invite that handsome Dean of yours," she says in a sing-song manner.

"Y-yeah. I'd love that." My voice is full of fake enthusiasm.

"Well, dear, I have to get back to work. I just wanted to call and check in. I miss you terribly."

"I miss you too, mom."

We say our goodbyes and hang up. I sigh and look to Dean with a shrug. "What am I supposed to do? I can't keep this in forever." 

Dean sighs. "I know. We just... need to figure out some things first."

"Like if we're going to stay together?"

His eyebrows scrunch together at my question. "What? No. That's not even remotely close to what I was hinting at."

"Then what were you hinting at?"

He hesitates and looks down at his lap from his chilled position on the couch. Whatever it is he's holding back, I can tell it's serious and he's nervous to tell me.

"Dean..." I push lightly.

He rubs his chin and then looks at me. "Sometimes these things don't work out."

I pause to absorb his answer. "What do you mean?"

He shifts in his spot and places a hand on my knee gently. Every silent second that passes puts my nerves on higher anticipation.

"I'm saying... not every pregnancy lasts through the first three months."

I'm silent as I listen to him. He's talking about miscarriages, something I haven't even thought of yet. 

The realization causes tears to form in my eyes and I force myself to look in the other direction. Deans scoots closer to me and tries to wrap his arms around my shoulder but I shoot off the couch and out of his touch.

"Claire, I didn't say that to hurt you."

"That's probably what you want, isn't it?" I yell in sudden rage as I around to face him. A tear starts to fall from my eye.

"What?" Now Dean is standing up. "Is that what you think?"

"Why else would you mention it?"

"Because it's a possibility, Claire. A really fucking common one that we need to think about and prepare for."

He's right, I know he is, and despite the fact that the timing of this is completely horrible, the thought of losing our baby like that shatters me. This whole situation shatters me.