Chapter Eight
Sam
I couldn’t deny that I’d spent the past several weeks contemplating being in this exact position—Elliott and I having been found out, both our futures on the line. It’d played over in my mind a hundred different ways, but I hadn’t ever truly believed it was something we’d have to face. Thinking, somehow, we were untouchable. Love managing to blind me to the very real consequences we faced by voluntarily and enthusiastically participating in a strictly forbidden relationship.
My dad’s hand rested heavily on my shoulder as I sat rooted in my seat in the dean of faculty’s office, as if somehow the weight of his fingers on me would keep me from going to Elliott. When I’d gotten the call earlier that Dean Mackelroy needed to see me immediately, I’d been too nervous to do anything but go straight to her office, the terrifying possibilities that I’d been too naive to truly consider staring me in the face.
I should’ve called Elliott or sent him a text, giving him warning of what I’d feared I’d be walking into. Save him, perhaps, from the shock and disbelief I’d been feeling for the past half-hour as my father had spoken about hunches and Samantha being seen leaving Dean Goodridge’s apartment building and do you have any idea what this can do to your college career, young lady?
I’d sat the entire time, quiet and contemplative, not knowing how to answer. That was one thing Elliott and I hadn’t specifically discussed—what we’d do if this ever came to light. We’d simply agreed that whatever the consequences, they’d be worth it. But was that the case now? As we faced those challenges head-on? I could still say the same for me—losing credits for the single semester since Elliott had arrived at the college wasn’t a big deal. It’d be inconvenient, having to go to the mainland to take enough credits to graduate, but that was it. An inconvenience.
I couldn’t say the same for him. If this came to a head, if there were true consequences brought about because of our actions, Elliott’s entire career could be over. His livelihood was on the line. That wasn’t something as inconsequential as having to take a few extra classes.
Where I seethed in my seat, furious my father had had the gall to go straight to the dean of faculty rather than discussing this with me like adults, Elliott stood calmly, seemingly unconcerned about what this meeting could possibly lead to. As if he hadn’t been found sleeping with one of his students. As if his career wasn’t on the line.
“Please, have a seat,” Dean Mackelroy said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of my father, too far away for my liking. I wanted to rest my fingers on Elliott’s forearm, wanted the comforting weight of his hand on my knee, wanted to tell him without words we were in this together, however he wanted to play it. That I’d back him up no matter what.
“Thank you, Dean.” Elliott took a seat, his body language proclaiming nothing but calm, except for the tiny tick of his jaw. Something he did only when he was frustrated or agitated. “Charles. Pleasure to see you again.”
My father’s grip intensified as he scoffed, his fingers digging into my shoulder. “I’d hardly consider these circumstances a pleasure, Dean Goodridge.”
“Gentlemen,” Dean Mackelroy broke in, “if you don’t mind, let’s get started with the reason we’re all here.” She folded her hands together and placed them on her desk as she addressed Elliott. “I called you here because Trustee Monroe has concerns regarding your relationship with his daughter, Samantha, who I’m sure you’re aware is a Temperance Falls College student.”
Elliott leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed, hand resting on his ankle. So confident. “I don’t believe there’s anything to be concerned about, Dean Mackelroy.”
I stiffened under my dad’s unrelenting hand, a thousand thoughts running through my mind, every one of them churning my stomach. I’d spent the past thirty minutes refusing to say anything one way or another about our relationship. Thus far, neither the dean nor my father had been able to produce hard proof that Elliott and I were in a relationship. Because of that, I hadn’t wanted to say anything that would make this worse for Elliott, wanting to spare him as much as possible. Wanting to salvage his career, with any means necessary.
I’d thought of a dozen different comebacks Elliott might’ve had once they asked him the same questions they’d been asking me, justifying our relationship one way or another so that he was able to save his career. But I’d never thought he might just...dismiss it entirely. Deny that anything at all was happening between us. Or worse, brush it aside as if what we had together was inconsequential.
Had I read the signs wrong between us? Misconstrued the looks he’d given me, the loving touches? Had our relationship meant more to me than it had to him?
“No?” Dean Mackelroy asked, eyebrow raised. “So you deny the accusations of Trustee Monroe that you’re involved in an inappropriate relationship with Ms. Monroe?”
I waited, breath held, for his answer. Desperately wanting to look at him, while at the same time wanting to disappear.
“Yes, I deny those accusations.”
My breath left me in a whoosh, my heart thumping so hard against my chest I was surprised no one else could hear it.
That was it. Elliott denied anything having gone on between us, and I’d stayed silent. With no hard proof, and no cooperation on our part, there wasn’t a whole lot the school could do. Unless, somehow, there was a video floating around of us together, I didn’t see how this would result in any consequences for either of us. That should’ve made me happy, relieved even.
So then why did it feel like Elliott had pulled my heart from my chest and stomped on it when he’d dismissed everything between us with a single sentence?
My father dropped his arm from around my shoulders, pointing an accusing finger at Elliott. “But someone saw—”
Elliott held up his hand, stopping my father’s rant. “I’m not done. Samantha and I are in a relationship, yes. But it’s not in any way inappropriate, in my opinion.”
My mouth fell open as I stared at him, catching his eye when he looked over at me, a small smile playing on his lips. That look, so serene and...happy. As if he hadn’t just admitted to sleeping with a student. As if he hadn’t just damned his career because he apparently didn’t care who knew we were together. Because he...wanted everyone to know?
“How can you say that?” my dad yelled, his face flushed with anger. “You’re her teacher!”
Elliott tore his eyes away from me to look at my father, giving a brief shake of his head. “Technically, no. I’m not. I’m the dean of students, though I haven’t actually stepped into the role in regards to the student population yet due to the financial fraud of my predecessor. I’ve had no interactions with Samantha in a professional capacity.”
“But—but—you were talking about the sailing program at the Lights Festival!”
“Actually, Charles, we were not. Samantha and I spent our time alone discussing the challenges being in a personal relationship could bring. I apologize for not being truthful, but at the time, we’d only just moved on from flirting to making plans to see each other officially and hadn’t known how my professional life and her student life overlapped.”
I could feel the flush creeping up my chest to my neck before settling in my cheeks, thoughts of exactly what we’d done the evening of the Lights Festival bombarding me. While, technically, what he said was true, he’d spent more time with his face between my legs than we had discussing anything.
My dad turned back to me, eyes narrowed. “Is this true, Samantha?”
I caught Elliott’s eye over my father’s head, seeing his subtle nod, encouraging me to be truthful. “Yes. It is.”
With a groan, my dad wiped a hand down his face. “Jesus, Samantha, I can’t believe this,” he said, voice raised. “Can’t believe you’d just—”
“Charles,” Dean Mackelroy interrupted in a sharp voice. “If you can’t remain calm, I’m going to have to ask you to step out and we’ll continue this discussion without you.”
“Fine.” My dad stood and walked toward the window on the opposite side of the office, pacing in front of it as if he had to get out his anger somehow. As soon as he’d vacated his seat, Elliott moved and sat where my father had just been. Even though we weren’t touching, just having him closer, bridging that gap between us, made me more confident.
Dean Mackelroy cleared her throat, shooting a glance between Elliott and me before focusing her attention on him. “Did you enter into a relationship with Ms. Monroe knowing she was a student here, Dean Goodridge?”
“Technically, yes. We did try to avoid it for a while, but found we weren’t able to do so. We began spending time together in a personal relationship a week ago.”
The dean tapped a pen on her desk, leaning back in her chair as she studied us. “You know we have a zero-tolerance policy at TFC regarding fraternization between faculty and students, do you not?”
Elliott tipped his head in a brief nod. “I am aware, yes.”
My dad stopped his pacing and scoffed. “And you chose to disregard it? Why would you knowingly jeopardize your career for a fling with a student?”
“It’s not a fling. It’s never been a fling,” Elliott said, reaching for my hand, though his attention stayed focused on my father. “I fell in love with your daughter, sir. That wasn’t a choice. Refusing to see each other for the few weeks left of the school year when I had no influence on her grades or student life seemed like a waste of time. As the faculty member, I understand the blame for the relationship falls on my shoulders, and I accept that.”
The low hum of conversation continued around me, but I couldn’t pay attention to any of it, too distracted by the bomb Elliott had just dropped. I stared at the side of his face, slack-jawed, as he spoke to my father and Dean Mackelroy, disbelieving what I’d just heard. Mere minutes ago I’d been worrying and wondering if our relationship had somehow been one-sided, if what I’d thought was between us had been me reaching for something that wasn’t there. If those loving looks and touches had been a figment of my imagination. And now the man of my dreams had just proclaimed his love for me... And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it, stuck in an office with people who wanted to pull us apart.
My dad’s irate voice yanked me out of my thoughts, and I glanced over, seeing both him and Elliott staring at Dean Mackelroy with clenched jaws.
“That’s hardly fair,” my dad said—shouted, really—face red.
“You know it’s a no-tolerance policy for both participants,” she said.
“Absolutely not.” Elliott’s voice was firm, his fingers tightening against mine. “Sam will be graduating with her class as expected. She’s worked hard for four years to achieve her goals, and I accept full responsibility for any and all consequences for our actions. If I need to give my resignation to make her graduation possible, I can have a letter on your desk in an hour.”
I gasped, turning toward him. “Elliott! You can’t—”
“Dean Goodridge,” Dean Mackelroy started, leaning forward in her seat.
“Now wait just a minute,” my dad interrupted, shooting a glance between the three of us. He ran a hand across his mouth as he stared at mine and Elliott’s entwined fingers. Then he looked up at me, as if trying to read something in my stare. With a sigh, he turned toward Dean Mackelroy. “There must be some way we could...overlook this.”
“Well,” she said, “I suppose if the complaint was withdrawn, we wouldn’t have a need to move forward with a formal investigation. Graduation is in two weeks, so I don’t foresee any further issues arising based on any relationship Dean Goodridge may or may not be participating in.”
“And nothing would happen to Samantha?” my dad asked.
Dean Mackelroy inclined her head, giving a short nod of affirmation. “Charles, why don’t we step over here for a minute,” she said, moving to stand and heading toward the far corner of her office. My dad followed, their heads bent closely together as they carried on a hushed conversation.
“How are you doing, princess?” Elliott leaned close, his words whispered between us.
“I’m freaking out a little.”
He reached up, brushing a strand of hair back from my face. “Stay calm. It’ll work out.”
“How are you not freaking out? And how could you offer to give them your resignation? That’s...” I shook my head. “It’s your career we’re talking about.”
“One thing you should know, Sam—schools will always err on the side of saving their reputation. The dean no more wants to deal with the scandal of revealing our relationship than we do.”
“Is that why you offered to turn in your resignation?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, his eyes locked on mine as he studied me. Finally, he said, “It’s nice to know they’re pedaling uphill, but no, that’s not the reason I offered to resign. You are... Us. I meant every word, Sam. You’re my heart, and I’d marry you tomorrow if you let me. I know you’re not there yet, though, so I’ll settle for fucking you senseless after this is all over.” He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “And I plan on telling you exactly how much I love you over and over again until you no longer doubt the words.”
A shiver worked its way through my body as he pulled back, dropping his gaze to my lips. Like he was as desperate to feel my mouth on his as I was. After everything he’d said, I wanted nothing more than to get lost in his touch.
Dean Mackelroy cleared her throat, making me jerk in my seat. Elliott took his time moving away, settling back in his chair, but he never dropped my hand. I glanced around him, seeing my dad had taken a seat on the other side of Elliott. He looked at me for a moment before his lips tipped up at the corner, and a sense of relief flooded me.
“Trustee Monroe has agreed to withdraw his complaint,” Dean Mackelroy said, “and the school is prepared to move on without looking into it further on the understanding that this was a one-time slip of judgment and won’t ever happen again.”
“Absolutely,” Elliott said, turning his head to catch my eye. He brought our joined hands to his mouth, pressing his lips against my fingers, making my heart flutter. Making me so damn glad I could call him mine. “Sam’s it for me.”