in the journalism department.
“Do you know when Gage…I mean, Professor Daughton might be back?” I ask the white-haired lady I snuck up on, nearly scaring her to death when she jumps in the copy room.
“Professor Daughton is no longer employed here,” she replies with her wrinkled nose in the air once she recovers.
“Ah, what?”
“He resigned. The pervert was screwing around with some student. Good riddance.”
“Oh my God,” I exclaim and then slap a hand over my mouth.
“Yeah, talk of the department. Last I heard he ran off on his wife and took a job as a fill-in reporter up north.”
“Wow,” I mutter in shock. Someone found out…or Gage told them? But apparently they don’t know who I am, or I would’ve been contacted by the university, right?
“I knew something was going on when his wife showed up the week before exams, looking madder than a hornet,” the lady says with a shake of her head. “Everyone was certain they had split months earlier, but there she was. And then the day of graduation he up and turns in a resignation admitting to his adultery.”
Suddenly things start to make a little more sense. The week before exams…that was when Gage came to my apartment and ended things. Maybe it was after his wife showed up. But then why did he resign and tell them about us? If he wanted to leave, he could’ve just walked away clean and clear.
Unless…unless he didn’t have a choice because someone knew about us and was threatening to turn us in unless he confessed.
That bitch! He resigned for me, to protect me from going down with him. And now he’s gone.
Luckily I’ve learned a little bit about social media this semester. Time to put my lessons to the test and see if I can track down my baby’s daddy.
Chapter Thirteen
Gage
For the fifth time today, I pull up one social media app after another, checking to see if there are any updates. But like yesterday and the day before, and so on, there’s nothing. Nada. Reagan hasn’t posted a single thing since graduation. No angry women memes or articles about chopping off a man’s dick. Nothing. And it’s driving me fucking insane! Didn’t I teach the woman anything? Oh, right, I taught her how it feels to be utterly devastated by a man. I’m sure that lesson has stuck with her.
“Ready?” Dave, the cameraman asks, telling me we’re about to go live. I have to admit that this job is much more exciting than teaching lectures. Although, today’s scene not so much. An ATM randomly exploded a few hours ago. Thankfully no one was injured, but the police have had a time with looters trying to scavenge through the debris looking for money. What can I say? It’s been a slow news day. Still, even with the lower pay, I feel like I’m where I belong, reporting the news. I only wish I weren’t alone.
I run a hand over the top of my head, making sure there're no random cowlicks sticking up before grabbing my mic and getting into position with the ATM wreckage behind me.
“And in 3…2…1,” the cameraman nods, and then we’re live.
“Earlier today, local residents and business owners were shocked when…holy fuck…” My mind shuts down, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of her standing at the front of the crowd of people gathered around the parking lot. Wait, maybe she’s just a figment of my imagination. But that doesn’t explain the blonde woman next to her, Josie since I wouldn’t have included her in my fantasy reunion.
“Ah, crap,” Dave may have muttered, but only Reagan matters. Especially when I realize she’s smiling at me, such a vast contrast to the hurt, scornful look at the end of our last conversation and then at graduation.
What the hell is she doing here?
How did she know where…?
She stalked me on social media. Thank God I’m not the only one.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I tell her when my legs carry me across the parking lot to her. When I reach for her cheek to make sure she’s real, it feels damp underneath my thumb, which doesn’t make sense since she looks happy. “Are you okay?” I ask her when she doesn’t say anything.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
Ah, so she’s somehow figured out about Trish’s blackmail. I don’t know how, but I’m glad she no longer seems to hate me.
“Because you had worked too long and hard on a degree for me