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“I’m not saying you should move out,” Michelle clarified. “But maybe a weekend vacay with your friends, or even a long girls’ night out, could help you reset. Give him a chance to miss you, wonder about you. Then when you get back home, he’ll treat you more respectful-like.”

“Does that actually work?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine my workaholic father noticing if Michelle disappeared for a few days. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t know.

“It works every time!” she said, laughing. “Sometimes men just need a reminder that their wives are real people with wants and needs, too—and that they’re lucky to have them.”

Maybe Michelle was right. Maybe Stefan would be more respectful and kind if I took some real time away. Not just going to school and studying late, every single day like clockwork, but actually packing a bag and leaving for a little while. Yet when I casually brought up spending a few days at Grace’s apartment one morning, he barely acknowledged me.

“Do whatever you want,” he said, breezing out the door with his coffee in hand. “I’m gone all weekend anyway.”

So much for that.

I went back to throwing myself into my school work, desperate to kill any remaining attachment I felt toward my husband. I studied harder than I ever had in my entire life and watched my grades bounce back to their former glory. But I still wasn’t happy. Not at all.

Even though I had seen evidence of Stefan’s cheating with my own eyes, I still couldn’t shake the memories of all the good times we’d had. And though I hated to admit it, the thought of our marriage truly being over was even more painful than the thought of him running around with other women. But I couldn’t just stand by and ignore the fact that he was being unfaithful. Would I ever be able to forgive him, even if he wanted me to? God, what was wrong with me?

I’d been reading the same paragraph over and over again in my Intro to Psycholinguistics text, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Stefan, huddled close to that model at the fundraiser.

“You okay?” Gavin’s voice startled me out of my moping. We were at the end of one of the long tables in the dining commons, and this late at night the place was practically empty.

“Fine,” I lied, avoiding eye contact. I stared up at the UChicago phoenix banners hanging from the ceiling, rubbing my eyes against the deep splashes of maroon and white.

“You seem distracted,” he said. “You’ve been on the same page for the last twenty minutes.”

I laughed bitterly. “Okay. Maybe I’m distracted.”

Gavin smiled. “Well, I’ve got some bad news for you. I just found out I’m averaging an A-in Latin now, so I’m gonna have to officially break up with you as my Latin tutor.”

It was easy to smile back. “Congratulations. This is the best breakup I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, you’re not getting off that easy,” he said. “I’d bet anything you’ll be asking me for help next semester with Code Making and Cryptanalysis. It just so happens to be my specialty.”

“You definitely are cryptic,” I teased, though of course nothing could be further from the truth. That was the thing that I loved about Gavin: he was just so direct and straightforward. He didn’t play games. You always knew where you stood with him. Nothing at all like my husband.

Gavin dropped his voice a little lower. “In all honesty though, I’m worried about you.”

I sighed. No doubt I looked terrible. I’d barely been sleeping. I would look at myself in the mirror some mornings and see someone who was just floating through life. The dark circles under my eyes could no longer hide under makeup, and there was a fatigue to my whole body that had me slumping over my desk in class. I looked—and felt—completely worn out.

“It’s just midterms,” I bluffed. “Getting through them all will be a big help.”

Gavin’s frown deepened. “How’s Stefan?”

Bingo. He got me every time. “He’s great,” I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm.

Gently reaching over and closing my textbook, Gavin leaned closer. “I know you’re a private person, and I respect that, but if you ever wanna talk…I’m all yours. Okay?”

His voice was so sincere that I could feel tears stinging my eyes. All I could do was nod.

“I’m just so…” But I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit how defeated I felt, how awful my husband was treating me, how illegal and morally bankrupt his family’s business was. It would snowball way too quickly if I tried to tell Gavin even a partial truth. “So tired,” I finished lamely.

Gavin stayed quiet for a minute, hesitating before finally resting a warm, comforting hand on my forearm. It had been so long since someone had touched my like that. Carefully. Respectfully. With kind, selfless intentions. I felt my breath calm, my pulse slow. It was good.

“A bunch of us are going out clubbing tonight,” he said. “Come.”

This man could not have been more Stefan’s opposite, and yet I still didn’t want him. I wished I did. I wished my attraction was more than just friendly. That he made my heart pound, my insides feel tight and hot, my life feel complete. It would have made things so much easier.

“I’m not really in the mood,” I said apologetically. “I don’t want to be a downer.”

I also didn’t want to do what I had to do with Stefan—pretend that everything was okay. It had also gotten exhausting having to dance around the details of my personal life, my husband, or the most recent popular topic of conversation among my classmates: KZ Modeling. Once the other students had found out that Stefan was the son of Konstantin Zoric and set to take over one of the most famous modeling agencies in the world, I had become a bit of a reluctant celebrity.