20

I make sure I'm well hidden, and even my shadow isn't visible as I crane my neck, trying my best to hear what they're saying.

"What is this?" I hear Wright asking sternly.

"Your father sent it for you," the man replies.

A humorless laugh cuts the air, and I almost lose my balance from the sheer surprise that it's from Wright. "Another one of his games." Bitterness drips from every syllabus of his statement.

"Spencer," the man sighs and I peer inside, catching Wright glowering at him.

"What?" he barks. "What does he want this time?"

"He's worried for you," the man calmly says, staying entirely unaffected by Wright's behavior.

I frown, wondering if the poor guy has endured this side of Wright more than anyone would like to count.

Wright scoffs and rolls his eyes. I return to my spot, pressing myself flat to the wall.

"He wants you to move to Seattle."

"Really?" Wright scoffs. "Why? Is his bitch wife boring him? Tell him, I want him to fucking stay out of my business."

My eyes widen, somehow, even though I know they're humans, it's so hard to imagine professors cursing. Right now, it's like Wright is an entirely different person.

"Spencer," the man warns, and I'm tempted to steal a glance but don't find the courage to do so.

A lengthy silence stretches between them and I chew my bottom lip, making sure I'm well hidden from their sight in case they decide to pace up down the office.

"He wants you by his side, he'll give a well-paying job in his company, the sky will be the limit for you."

"I have a job and I'm happy in it. In fact, I'll be much happier if he, and you, stop interfering." Wright snaps.

"A word from your father and you can work in any of the universities in Boston, just name it and the spot is yours. William is worried for you, if you don't want to work with him in Seattle, fine, don't; but how about you agree with this? You'll no longer need to travel every week, he'll buy a good house for you, and you won't have to worry about anything, isn't it great?"

As the seconds tick by, my ribcage tightens, a sudden and odd sensation of the ground slipping from underneath me, and my chest being caved overwhelms me. My heart races as I hold my breath while Wright stays silent.

I don't even know why I'm surprised. I shouldn't be, obviously different opportunities will keep coming his way.

But, if he leaves, who will be my thesis adviser? Under whose name can I publish the solution I found?

I press my palm to my forehead, wishing and hoping my luck doesn't run out and Wright declines the offer.

"I can land myself any job, with whatever I've achieved by myself, in any place I want. Tell him, I don't need him or his word." Through gritted teeth, Wright speaks and I lean a bit closer to the door to hear every word.

Relief washes through me and I sigh, slumping the slightest. At least he'll be staying for the time being.

"Then let him get you a good place, a guy like shouldn't be living in a flat like that."

The hinge legs of a chair squeaks and I flinch from the sound. I lean over and Wright is standing, pointing his index finger at the man, and his nostrils flaring. His eyes are wide with anger, glacial glare cutting through the poor man, his neck is flushed. "Stay the fuck out of my life," he snarls.

"He's worried for you, he cares, Spencer. William wants to do something for you, let him be a part of your life, he's your father."

Wright barks a vicious laugh. "He's a decade too late for that." He points at the door and I jump two steps back. "Now, get your stuff and get out. Next time if you show up, I'll make sure you'll regret it."

"Spencer," the man starts.

But Wright's thunders, "Out!"

I squint and listen closely; the moment feet begin to shuffle I dash to the other way of the narrow hallway. I try every room with no luck until reaching the kitchenette's open door and let myself in.

My heart hammers in my chest as I stand near the door, listening closely.

The sound of footfalls nearing my hiding spot, makes me hold my breath and clutch the straps of my bag tighter. The sound keeps growing but it doesn't slow down and it continues until it grows faint and I can't hear it anymore.

I heave a sigh out of relief, and press my palm to my chest, over my racing heart. That was close. I close my eyes and lean to the wall, focusing on calming my ragged breathing.

After what feels like forever, I pull myself together and straighten up. Gingerly, I walk to the small sink and find a clear glass, pour water in it, and down it in one go.

With a sharp inhale, I remove my scrunchie and tie up my hair again, and fix my shirt before walking out. The hallway is empty, fidgeting with my fingers, I pick a few tentative steps nearing Wright's office and peer inside.

He raises his hand, as if ready to break anything within his reach and push off all the textbooks and papers on his desk. But midway he halts and pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

He shoves his hand through his hair, dishevelling it, and takes off his glasses. Planting his hands flat on the top of the desk he drops his head low, his back rises and falls as he breathes heavily. I watch him curiously, an image of comforting him pops up in my mind but I shove it away.

Just as he straightens himself, I jump back, hiding from his line of sight. Faint shuffling makes my heart leap to my throat, but when I glance inside his room, his back is facing me. Both of his hands are gripping the frame of the window so tightly his knuckles have turned white as he gazes at the campus ground.

I tilt my head to one side as I continue observing him.

Doctor Spencer Wright. The biggest mystery I've ever encountered.

Slowly, I retreat and check my wristwatch. After a few moments of pondering over the situation, I decide to return exactly five minutes from now, so nothing would appear suspicious. The last thing I need is for him to find out I heard everything.

Clearly, Wright has some issues, and I should not get involved with them.

∞ ∞ ∞

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