Page 51 of Love, Academically

Crestfallen (adjective) crest·fall·en

dejected, dispirited, discouraged

having a drooping crest or head

Lila

Professional, professional, professional was the chant that went through Lila’s mind as the lift opened on the first floor of the History Department. This was her job, she was professional and she could cope with addressing Rhys in a professional manner.

Not screaming or shouting or crying or curling up in a little ball under the table. She was a big girl and she could be professional.

There was a vase of fresh flowers on her coffee table and she hung up her coat on the stand in the corner. Things would be okay, she kept telling herself.

“Lila?” Sue poked her head around her door. “You good?”

“Oh, morning Sue,” she said, pasting a smile on her face. “Yes, all fine. I really appreciate the time off. Thank you.”

“Not at all.” Sue came fully into her office. “Look, I know things might be difficult today. If you need anything, please do come and see me, okay?”

There were so many unsaid words there, but it was an olive branch. One that she grabbed onto with both hands.

“Thanks, Sue, I will. I’m sure it will be fine. Rhys and I are both professionals.”

Sue nodded, not looking convinced, but wisely kept her words to herself.

“I’ll let you get on,” she said, leaving her room.

Lila was expecting eleven billion emails in the Departmental inbox, but Sue had obviously kept on top of them and she was grateful.

A letter sat on her desk, her name handwritten across the large envelope.

What if it was from Rhys? Perhaps it was a printed PowerPoint presentation of how she should get stains out of her blankets, or a step-by-step guide to unwinding knotted wool.

If it was, she could shred it, but she did have to check because if it was something from a student, her professional mindset would be ruined if she chucked it before she could read it.

Ripping the envelope open, she grinned. A wide, proper grin.

It was her acceptance letter from Amanda on the Lexicography course and she hugged it to her chest tightly.

Never mind that it only happened because Rhys had threatened Sue, she wasn’t going to dwell on that and she certainly wasn’t going to let him take any credit for her being accepted on the course.

It was all her. It was the beginning of her dream to work in lexicography.

She tucked it in her handbag for further discovery at lunch.

The morning passed slowly, perhaps because she was constantly on the lookout for stupid Rhys.

Her head snapped up at every person who passed her office and because she was on the main thoroughfare, it meant that she was constantly looking at the door and, consequently, not getting an awful lot of work done. And getting a bit of whiplash.

Jasmeet had been the absolute best person she could think of, staying with her, checking in, but realistically, Lila needed to put this in perspective.

She’d been through a breakup before and that’s exactly what this was.

A breakup with a man who didn’t deserve her. That’s what she kept telling herself.

This was not her fault.

So why hadn’t he come to apologise? Why hadn’t he been in contact since the whole debacle of Thursday? It was both gratifying that she didn’t have to see him or deal with his attempts at reconciliation, but a little part of her wondered why he hadn’t bothered. Not even to say sorry.

Lila took her lunch outside to the lake. It wouldn’t be long before it would be too cold and windy to sit outside. Today, the clouds hung low and threatening over the dark water.

She looked through the course paperwork. The modules were absolutely perfect. The History of Etymology, The Sociolinguistics of English, Forensic Linguistics. All practically perfect in every way.

It was time to share her excitement.

She sent a selfie of her holding the paperwork by her face with a grin. Not that she looked great, but at least she looked better than she had at the weekend.

Lila popped in her headphones, scrolled to a podcast and gobbled down her sandwich.

She wasn’t one of those women who forgot to eat when they were sad.

Oh no, she was an ‘eat your feelings’ kind of girl, as demonstrated by the three empty tubes of Pringles and the two empty tubs of ice cream in the bin at her house.

Engrossed in her podcast (and concentrating on not slipping over), she didn’t notice the warm brick wall in front of her until she walked into it.

“Oh, gosh. Sorry,” she said, looking up.

Rhys, smelling of his stupid beautiful body wash.

She took a step back.

“Hi.”

He sounded like he had swallowed rocks. He looked tired. Pale, wan and tired. Smaller than usual.

“I’m sorry for ambushing you, but I didn’t want to talk to you in your office, I wanted to do it somewhere where you’d feel comfortable and had the ability to walk away if you wanted to.”

Well, that was kind of considerate. But still, nope.

“But, I really hope you don’t,” he said quickly, probably noticing that she was poised to run. Or walk quickly. “Walk away, that is.”

Lila clenched her jaw together. He didn’t get her words.

“I would like to apologise to you and explain.” Her eyebrow raised of its own accord. “I don’t want to make excuses. There are no excuses for what I said, but please let me talk to you.”

Let him talk to her? Uh, no. Lila stepped to the side to bypass him.

“Thank you for giving me the option to walk away, Rhys.”

He visibly deflated and her heart melted a teeny-tiny bit. Okay, so perhaps that didn’t come out as kindly as she thought it did. She was genuinely thanking him, because it was quite thoughtful to give her an out of this really rather terrible interaction.

“We will talk at some point,” she said, because she did want to hear what he had to say, but not right now. He looked up at her like a little puppy, wide-eyed and hopeful. “But it will be on my terms and when I want to.”

“Yes, yes of course. Whatever you need, whatever you want,” he said, shuffling forwards slightly. She matched him shuffle for shuffle, because the last thing she wanted was for him to touch her right now. He must have got the point, because he took a step back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well,” she mumbled.

Putting her headphones back in so she wouldn’t be tempted to talk to him anymore, Lila kept her eyes facing forward because if she looked back, she would crumble. He looked so desperate, so alone and her deep-seated desire to make everything all right reared its ugly head.

Instead, she hot-footed it back to her office and sat down behind her desk, busying herself with work. There was more than enough work that she could throw herself into, setting right all the stuff that had gone undone under her predecessor.

Her phone rang, interrupting her podcast.

“Just checking in, you okay?” Jasmeet rushed out. “I’m on lunch, can’t be long.”

“Yes, all fine thanks,” she said to the most wonderful best friend in the world.

What had she done to deserve such a good friend?

Yeah, there were times when Jasmeet could be self-centred and dismissive, but couldn’t everyone when they had stuff going on?

Hadn’t she been when Jas had that stuff going on at school?

The main thing was she was right there when Lila needed her, holding her whilst she cried.

“Do you need me tonight, because I really have to do some washing,” Jasmeet said.

“No, I’m good, Jas. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”

“That’s what best friends do, Lila!”

“Quickly, how’s your Headteacher? I’m sorry I haven’t asked, I’ve been…” How had she been? A bit crap, really.

“Lila, don’t worry. I get it,” Jasmeet said softly. “You know that meeting? I got my union rep to come and she ripped the Head a new one. I’m getting another teaching assistant, and the Head has taken a personal interest in Devil Child.”

“Excellent! That’s really good, Jas,” Lila said.

“Okay, got to go. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Lila started to type out an ‘of course, whatever you need’ message but stopped herself.

Actually, no.

She’d sent it before she thought. Christ, was it too late to delete it? Yes, the three dots were flashing that Maddy was typing.

Shit.

Rhys

It had been just over two weeks.

Rhys had taken to finishing at six, because he didn’t want to run into Lila.

Well, of course he did want to run into Lila, because he desperately wanted to see her and check that she was doing okay.

He didn’t because she said they’d talk on her terms and he didn’t want to bulldoze her.

He settled for bringing the biggest, brightest flowers in for her office every day.

Even though he wasn’t sure whether that was a bit creepy, he did it anyway.

The florist had suggested big, fat orange roses for today because she was out of proteas.

The email from the Fellowship had come through confirming his attendance at the pre-interview day dinner the evening before, and there was a personal message from Professor Painter.

Huh, that was different. They were actually impressed by the blue moustache stunt. Apparently, it showed that he ‘didn’t take himself too seriously’, that there was ‘some joy in him’ as well as a hard-nosed passion for Henry II. They were ‘looking forward to seeing him and introducing him around’.

This was the dream. The thing was, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to go.

There was so much more he wanted to do and the Fellowship was no longer the be all and end all.

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he wanted to apply to it at all.

It was a stuffy, elitist club that reminded him of his father and his cronies.

Did he want it because it was tangible, physical proof of his success that he could wave in his father’s face and say ‘SEE!’? Or did he want it for himself?