Page 143 of Any Port in a Storm

“I’ve been fine.”

So it’s going to be this kind of conversation, then. “Look, I’ll cut to the chase. I’ve gotten a couple of job offers, and the hiring committees would like letters of reference, just as a formality.” I cough nervously. “I was hoping you might be willing to provide one.”

Silence.

“I know things have gotten…a little weird between us,” I tell her. “But…well, one of the jobs is at the Massachusetts Literary Museum, and Margo Rodecker asked for your recommendation specifically. I know you’re friends, and that made me think perhaps you hadn’t told her. You know, about everything.”

Spillinger laughs bitterly. “Of course I didn’t tell her. Nick threatened to report me to the ethics committee.”

An image of Nick, stepping in front of me last July, yelling in Spillinger’s face, flashes through my mind. “I didn’t think that would be relevant to conversations you might have with your friends.”

“Well, Nick seemed to think otherwise.”

“Wait, what?”

She takes a deep breath. “He came to see me. Two days after you and I met last July.”

My mind races over the timeline. Two days after the incident in the courtyard would be after I broke things off with Nick. When I exaggerated my relationship with Porter, just to get away from the fear of committing to someone I knew could break me.

“He didn’t mention it,” I breathe.

“Yes, well. He came to see me and laid out, in no uncertain terms, how he expected me to treat you going forward. And that included the way I discussed your academic work, both within and outside of the department. Ultimately, it was his idea that I recuse myself as your advisor.”

This is so much new information all at once, I’m struggling to keep up. Nick went to Spillinger? To fight for me, even after I told him we couldn’t be together? Even after I broke his heart?

Something lurches deep in my chest.

“I didn’t know,” I manage at last.

Spillinger’s voice is quiet on the other line. “He loves you, you know.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”

“No, I’m not sure you do,” she says, a more impassioned tone taking over. “Are you aware that you’re why he ended things with me the second time?”

“I—I had no idea,” I reply shakily. Because Nick and I weren’t even together back then.

“After we had our…dalliance, two years ago at that Halloween party,” she says, “he came to me, totally distraught. Said he’d made a mistake; that there was someone else, and, even if she didn’t want to be with him, he couldn’t in good conscience be with me.”

Even as every hit of her revelation is warming my spirit, I’m also realizing how hard this rejection must have been for her. “I’m sorry. That sounds like it would hurt.”

“It did,” she agrees. “Although the Ireland job was the hardest part for me to understand, all things considered.”

The floor falls out from underneath my feet. “The what?”

“Nick had been applying to jobs. He threw his hat in the ring for something at Trinity College Dublin so he could be near his parents.”

I’d thought Nick and I were close. We’ve shared so much over the years. But it seems like he’s been keeping an awful lot of secrets.

“Um. Did he not get the job?”

“Oh, no, he did. But he turned it down. I’m sure you can guess why.”

The table under my arm is blurry as the earth spins faster; so fast, in fact, that I’m struggling to get my bearings. Nick had the chance to move home, to be with his family—and he picked me instead? When we weren’t even a couple; ages before he could’ve guessed we had a shot at being together?

The idea that he did this—that he loves me this much—is the most staggering revelation of my life.

“Dr. Spillinger, I really had no idea,” I manage after a minute. “And I need you to know—I idolized you. I wanted to be you. You’re half the reason I decided to reenroll at Hawthorne for my PhD.” I wring my hands in my lap. “I truly don’t understand how our personal lives got tangled up like this. But it was never my intention to hurt you. And I’m sure it wasn’t Nick’s, either.”