I go into the cathedral at the last possible moment. I managed to hide out at my parents’ house all weekend and all through Monday. I kept my phone off—I even considered just changing my number.

But there’s not really any avoiding him. I’m not going to give up my career just because he’s an asshole. I have decided I won’t let him be my mentor after this semester. I might lose some time and delay finishing my Ph.D., but I’m not spending however many years with him in control of me to any degree.

I half expect him to be waiting for me at the big wooden doors of the cathedral. When I walk through without incident, I then expect to see him in front of the elevators. I imagine seeing him each step of the way, until I’m safely in the room with all my students around me. If he didn’t show up yet, he’s not going to show up now.

I arrive only a minute or two before class starts, so I simply get my books and papers out, clear my throat, and start teaching.

It’s difficult to teach when it feels like I’m mourning. I’m mourning the loss of many things: but in some ways the hardest thing to lose has been my fantasy. Dr. Leeds had been my fantasy for my entire adult life. Even when that fantasy was buried deep, it was always that one thing I wish I could have had. In some ways it may have been better for the fantasy to stay buried like that. I could always have thought fondly of him, and always wondered “what if.” Now that the fantasy has turned into a baby growing inside me, I realize I’ll never be able to forget the man, and the memories of him will always be painful.

Just as I focus entirely on my lecture and manage to push Dr. Leeds from my mind almost entirely—if even just for the duration of the lecture—the door swings open, and the man himself walks chest first, shoulders back into the room and toward my podium.

My students turn to see who has barged in, and I stop lecturing. I find my hands clenching the podium, my knuckles whitening as I squeeze.

What the hell is he doing here? He’s walking right up to me, as if we were the only two people in the room. This between us are over; the last thing I need now is everyone finding out we were together after it’s already over.

“Nicole,” he says. “Nikki.”

I see my students starting to understand what is happening. They look at each other with wide eyes, and some start to giggle.

“Dr. Leeds,” I hiss. “I’ll talk to you after class.”

“Listen,” he says. “I was coming right back for you, but when I came back, you were gone.”

I feel the blood rush to my head, and adrenaline surges through me. I have no idea how to deal with him right now. My students are staring on in fascination, like they are watching a car crash in slow motion. Should I scream at him for tying me up and leaving me alone? How could I say something like that in front of everyone?”

“Look,” he says, reaching into his jacket pocket. “It took me so long, because I was getting this.”

He falls down onto one knee before me, right in front of the podium, and he holds up an open box. The light hits the diamond, and it glimmers below me.

“Ms. Faria,” he says. “Marry me. That’s an order. I want to raise this kid with you.”

His words seem to suck all sound out of the room. If it was quiet before, now it’s absolutely silent. I hear my own breath rasping up through my throat. I feel my heart beating between my ears, and when I swallow—more like a confounded gulp—it sounds so loud I wonder if the students in the back row can’t hear it.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. He’s asking me to marry him?

I expected maybe a half-assed apology. Some waxing poetic about why he can’t be a father. But a proposal? No, not a proposal, an order to marry him?

Before I can think of how to even begin to respond, Greg stands up from somewhere in the middle of the classroom.

“Alright,” he says, “Dr. Leeds, I respect you and shit, but you’re being mad unprofessional. She’s like, your TA, and teachers aren’t supposed to date students or TAs or whatever. And look at her, she’s too afraid to even say ‘no,’ so you best—”

Dr. Leeds thrusts a finger at him. “Sit down, Greg.” His voice is deep and booming.

Greg sits down instantly, as if Dr. Leeds had physically shoved him back into his seat.

Dr. Leeds looks back up at me. “There’s no rule against marriage, Nikki. If we’re married, they can’t put disciplinary action against either of us. Only dating is prohibited.”

Jesus. He’s serious, isn’t he?

I finally find my voice, and I project it as loud and as far as I can. “Everyone out!”

The students look at each other, seeing what everyone else is doing.

“Out!” I shout.

They pop up, grabbing their things and whispering to each other in hushed tones. I hear laughter as well. They start to clear out, and after a minute or so the room is empty save for Elijah and I.

“So,” he says. “Will you obey my order?”

My phone vibrates on the podium, and I see a text message from my mom. “Nikki, you’re getting MARRIED?!?!?! You don’t even have a boyfriend!”

I look down at Dr. Leeds. “You told my mom we’re getting married?”

“The wedding is tomorrow,” he says. “I invited everyone.”