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Like he’sseriousserious. And waiting for an answer.
“I can’t move in with you,” I tell him. “We’re not even...” We’re not even what? I look away. I feel like total shit, and I cannot understand if he’s joking, though he must be, but he looks weirdly earnest, and...
A few steps over the cheap vinyl and he’s standing right in front of me. I’m trapped between him and the kitchen sink, and strong fingers come up to my chin, angle it back.
“I think weare.”
My heart trembles. That blue slice cuts into me like a knife, and what comes out of me is “Andrea wouldn’t agree.” I didn’t mean tobring her up. In fact, I actively meant to avoid the topic forever. But I guess this honesty thing is a little addictive.
Jack closes his eyes and swears softly under his breath. “You heard her.”
“I...” I free my chin, and he understands that I need space. He takes a step back, but I still cannot breathe. “I didn’t mean to. I...” I exhale. “Yes, I did.”
Jack sighs. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her when she’s calmed down.”
I nod, and it should be the end of it—a resolution, nicely wrapped. Instead I hear myself ask, “What about Crowley and Pereira? And Cole. And the rest of your students. Will you talk to them, too?”
His lips press together, expression shifting to something opaque. Like he’s bracing for something. “What is this, Elsie?”
All of a sudden, the million balls that have been lazily rolling around in the back of my head for the past two weeks are bouncing against my skull. And theyhurt. “Do you know what the problem is? That these people—they admire you. They really, really like you. Your students, your colleagues, your friends. They all want to please you. And for most of them, pleasing you means showing that they dislike whatyoudislike. And just like that, everything goes back to thatAnnalsarticle.”
He exhales. “Elsie—”
“To be fair, I did the same.” I begin pacing around the kitchen. “I like you so much, I’ve been avoiding thinking about it for as long as I could. And to give you credit, you’re good at letting me forget. You neverfeellike the person who wrote it, which makes it easy to pretend that you didn’t exist before I met you, that your past actions don’t matter. But what Andrea said today... I owe it to my mentor to remember. I can’t forget that Laurendeau was the editor of theAnnalsat the time. That he was censured. And...” I feel the samemix of anger and embarrassment I always do when I think about what happened. “The thing is, Jack... you go through life with your man-with-money confidence, never second-guessing your actions. But there were lots of unintentional victims to what you did—”
“Laurendeau wasn’t that,” he says flatly.
“Yes, he was. His career was hugely impacted by—”
“He wasn’tunintentional.”
“He...” I stop pacing. The words don’t immediately sink in. And when they do, I’m still left confused. “What?”
Jack wets his lips. “Laurendeauwasthe target.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I wrote the articlebecauseI wanted Laurendeau’s career to be over.” His throat moves. “It was everything else that was unintentional.”
My mind spins a million circles, then halts abruptly. “Everything else?”
“I didn’t want to become the poster boy for the rift between theorists and experimentalists.” He throws up one hand, impatient. For a moment I sense hesitation, but his eyes harden, stubborn in a way that’s almost... young. Seventeen again. “I wasn’t making astatement. All I wanted was Laurendeau out of physics—and I failed, clearly. Since after screwing over my mother, he’s been busy fucking up the life of the single person I’ve ever been in love with.”
What did he... His mother? The single person he...
“I—”
“He was my mother’s main collaborator, Elsie.Hewas the reason she couldn’t go back to work after I was born.Hewas the reason she felt—it was the most important thing for her, Elsie. Her workdefinedher, and he took it away and—” His voice rises and rises and then abruptly stops, like he suddenly realized how loud he had gotten.
“Why did he...?”
“Because he was envious. Because he felt superior. Because ofcontrol. He’s like that with you, too.”
“What?” I shake my head. “No. No, hehelpsme.”
“To the point that you don’t feel allowed to accept your dream job without his permission? This is not a normal mentor-mentee relationship.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack simply doesn’t get it. Dr. L. is the only reason I was able to get into grad school. The reason I was able to pursue my dreams. The reason I’m not currently unemployed.
