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“You could’ve told the damn truth. How long have you been sleeping with your professor?”
She looks at me with unshed tears. There isn’t an urge to pull her into my arms, to touch her, to comfort her. The only thing I want to do is get the fuck out of there and put her behind me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what part?” I ask. “The part where I brought you into my family? Trusted you? Paid for everything for you? Including the tuition where you screwed your professor?” I pointed toward the water. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
She says nothing.
“How long?”
Nola shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It actually does, Eleanora. Everything matters.”
“You were gone a lot and things just happened.”
“So, over a year? Because that is the last time I was gone for a long time, as you put it.”
We stand there, in silence. I shake my head. “You were a red flag, and I knew to steer clear of you, but I let you in and look at what you’ve done.”
She looks at me sharply, and I see tears forming in her eyes. “That’s not fair, Quinn. I loved you. So much. But I wasn’t happy. I tried to tell you?—”
“Did you?” I interrupt. “Or did I have to prod this out of you for you to then tell me everything was okay?”
“You’re not innocent in all of this.”
“You’re right,” I tell her. “There’s a whole laundry list of things I could’ve done better.”
I sigh deeply, the sounds of the harbor filling the space between us. Seagulls cry overhead. The fountain burbles nearby. A child laughs somewhere behind us.
“Are you happy now?” I finally ask.
Nola doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
The simplicity of her answer is what breaks me. Not dramatically. Not with tears or rage. But with quiet acceptance. Because she does look happy. Completely, genuinely happy in a way I can’t remember seeing her look in our final months together.
“Good,” I say, and to my surprise, I mean it. “I’ll have my manager send you the necessary papers to remove you from the house.”
“Okay.”
“As far as your tuition goes, consider it a gift.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
I shake my head. “After I leave here, you’ll never hear from me again. You won’t even have access to me.”
“I still have your number.”
I scoff. “If you think you’ll get through, go for it.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring I’ve been carrying since the day she left. The one I wore around my neck until I couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.
“I wanted to give this back to you,” I say, holding it out.
She shakes her head. “It was a gift. I can’t take it back.”
“You’re right. I gave you a lot of gifts, didn’t I?”