If It's Only Love (Lexi Ryan)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Shay

When I got to campus this morning, there was a note from the department secretary in my mailbox

saying Dr. Alby needed to see me in his office. I planned on talking to him this morning, but judging by

this note, his wife already had a conversation about it with him last night.

I hope she chewed his ass out—and not in the sexy way.

When I knock on his office door, I’m numb.

“Come in!” His tone is decidedly grumpy. Good. That makes two of us.

I push into his office and shut the door behind me.

When he tears his gaze away from the computer, his eyes lock on that closed door. “Shay. I think it

would be better if you kept that door open.”

What a fucking asshole. “Really? You didn’t mind me closing it when you were cheating on your wife with me.” Oh. Wow. That felt great. Why was I putting this off?

He blows out a breath. “Merritt told me you came to her office last night. And before you get all high

and mighty with me, you should understand that I made the decisions I did based on my gauge of your

maturity level. After the way you handled speaking with her, it’s clear that I made the right call.”

In this moment, I see George clearly for the first time. Honestly, I’m disgusted with myself for getting

personally involved with him. I’ve always known on some level that George needed taking down a

notch, but why on earth didn’t I ever find his ego annoying? Like, vagina-shriveling unacceptable. I

shake my head. “My maturity level? What a convenient excuse that must’ve been for you—to lie to your

wife and keep me in the dark about your marriage so you could fuck me. You knew I would’ve turned

you down if you’d told me the truth.”

He rocks back in his chair, chest puffed up, nostrils flaring with anger. “I suppose now you’re going to

act like you didn’t want to? Play the victim card and say I coerced you through the mentor-mentee

power dynamic?”

I shake my head. “I never thought that. Your evaluation of my work and guidance of my research

always felt completely separate from our personal relationship.”

He swallows and his chest caves in. Good. At least he’s been a little worried about it.

“I didn’t sleep with you for academic favors,” I say, realizing we need to get this cleared up first. “And I

never felt like you used your position on my committee to get me in bed.”

He scrubs a hand over his face, nodding. “Okay. Good, good, good. This is good to hear.”

“That’s a lot of good in reference to a situation that’s pretty fucked up, George. You’re not off the hook

for not telling me about your wife. Not with me, at least. If she wants to ignore what you’ve done, that’s

on her. Even if I wanted a relationship with you, I wouldn’t forgive you for keeping me in the dark. I don’t

have the energy to hash out how I feel about your lies right now.”

He smirks. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

I cock my head to the side. “What exactly did your wife tell you?” Did she tell you I’m pregnant?

“She told me to get out.” He shifts uncomfortably. Ass sore, George? “And then she told me I needed to

talk to you.”

“She’s right. We do need to talk.”

He stares at me and when I don’t immediately explain, he says, “Spit it out.”

“I’m pregnant.”

He goes pale then seems to shake away the instinctive panic. “The football player works fast.”

“The baby isn’t Easton’s.” I stare at him, but when he only stares back with that constipated confusion

face, I say, “I’m eleven weeks and four days pregnant.” I pull the ultrasound picture from my purse and

place it in front of him on the desk.

He stares at the black-and-white photo with wide eyes. “Can you be sure it’s mine?”

What a dick. “Before Easton came to town, you’re the only one I’d slept with in years.”

When he lifts his eyes to mine, they’re angry. “You told me you were on the pill.”

“I was. It looks like I got pregnant during that Florida conference. The doctor said if I was that sick, the

birth control wouldn’t have worked right.”

“The chances, though . . .”

I point at the picture. “Right there. There’s the chance.”

He stares at me for a long beat, and I watch as the possibility clicks into place in his mind. “I can’t

marry you, Shay. You’ve been acting weird since you saw that ring, but I’ve never given you reason to

believe I wanted that from you. I don’t want to lose my wife.”

“If you think I want to marry you after all I know now, you’ve lost your goddamned mind.”

“I mean, I’d want a paternity test.”

“Would you? And what then? What would the proof of a paternity test change for you?” I shake my

head. “I might not like how this happened, but I’m not upset to know I’m going to be a mother.”

“Well, at least that’s one of us.” He blows out a breath. “You got just what you wanted, didn’t you? An

excuse to stay home. An excuse to ignore everything you’ve worked so hard for so you can . . . what?

How will you support this kid? Are you going to be a fucking bartender?”

I know that shot is supposed to hurt, but it doesn’t. I don’t care what he thinks of me, of my family or my

choices. “I’m only telling you because it’s the right thing to do. Not because I expect anything from you.”

He looks dumbstruck. I wonder how many other women he’s been sleeping with while not using

condoms and pretending to be single. Maybe even other women at this college who thought they were Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

protecting their own reputation by keeping the secret. “I think it would be easier all around if you make

this decision regarding the baby in the same way I told you to make the decisions regarding your

career,” he says. “Don’t factor me into the equation.”

“Would you sign away your rights to the child?”

He shrugs, as if I’m asking for something meaningless. “If that’s what you want, that’s fine with me.”

I take a breath. “And when I defend my dissertation, I expect you to do the same. Evaluate me as if we

were never together, as if we were never involved.”

“You think I’m going to evaluate you unfairly because of all of this? I have the highest regard for

academic integrity.”

I laugh. “Because academic integrity is everything, right? Apparently, for you, it’s even more important

than personal integrity.” I take the ultrasound photo from his desk, tuck it into my purse, and leave his

office.

Maybe it’s not wise to walk away with bitterness between us when the future of my degree hangs in the

balance. If I’m going to move away and start over, I’m going to want this degree I’ve busted my ass for.

But it was worth it.

Easton

Me: Everything okay? I missed you yesterday.

Shay: I’m dealing with some stuff at school. I’ve had some unexpected changes that complicate things.

Me: Can I help?

Shay: I need to do this myself.

Me: Will I see you at gymnastics tonight? Abi is excited.

Shay: No, Nic’s taking Lilly.

Me: You’re avoiding me.

Shay: I am. Kind of. Give me some space, Easton. We’ll talk, but I need to take care of me right now.

He grins. “I think so too.” His gaze flicks to the pocket where I just put away my phone. “Was that my

sister?”

“Yeah.”

“She still avoiding you?” Coոtent оf

I drag a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

Do I look like an idiot? “She wants space.”

He frowns. “What’d you do?”

“Meaning?”

“Listen, I’d like to tell you the whole thing, but if you beat in my face, you’re the one who has to explain

your actions to my sweet, innocent daughter.”

His eyes go wide. “Oh, hell. We’re gonna need beer, aren’t we?”

I nod. “We should probably do this at the bar.”