When I woke up the next morning with a headache pounding behind my temples, I definitely didn't feel any better. In a span of twenty-four hours, I'd managed to ride a truly horrific emotional rollercoaster. From elation and pride, to betrayal and heartbreak. There was a high possibility of the day being written off as the worst I'd experienced thus far, and the fact that I was meant to continue on as though I wasn't a jumbled mess of a human seemed completely implausible.

I tried though.

Rolling out of bed, I sluggishly got ready for the day, ignoring any and all texts that came in, not wanting to take the chance of seeing Miles' or Derrick's names pop up on the screen. Because if I had to relive yesterday's events before I even gulped down my morning coffee, there was a good chance I wouldn't make it out of the house.

Instead, I drowned everything out. Putting my headphones in, I scrolled through the playlists saved to my phone until I found the one filled with throwback jams and turned the volume up. There was no room for unwanted thoughts while classic lyrics invaded my mind.

When I pulled into my usual parking spot at the university an hour later, however, I couldn't bury my head in the sand any longer. I needed to at least work to settle one of the storms in my life and deal with Miles. After all, there was no avoiding him. We shared an office. However, being that it was Thursday, I had one final class to teach before finals started, which meant I had a few hours to psych myself up and plan how to go about the confrontation before it happened.

Though with the amount of questions my students had, I didn't really get a chance to do either.

Riding the elevator up on the way up to the office, I couldn't help but fidget. My foot was tapping impatiently, and I fiddled with the zipper on my bag, taking a deep breath as the doors opened and I stepped out. Heading down the hall, I felt like a young kid walking toward their parents, knowing they were in trouble, when I should've been feeding the rage inside of me.

But I wasn't a confrontational person, and a situation like this was honestly one of my worst nightmares.

Biting my lip, I silently chanted "You can do this. You can do this."

Only to open the door and see an empty office.

Truly empty—at least on Miles' side.

My side remained untouched, but on his side, only the desk, chair, and computer monitor remained. There were no papers sprawled across the desk, no sticky notes lining the side of the monitor, and no books piled off to the side.

Setting my bag on top of my own desk, my forehead crinkled with confusion as I took a seat, looking around for a clue as to what had happened. Before I could jump to any conclusions, however, footsteps sounded in the hallway, and moments later, Professor Klein knocked on the door.

I straightened in my seat. "Good morning, Professor."

"Morning," she replied, and it wasn't hard to miss the tightness in her jaw. Or how her response failed to confirm the morning was indeed good.

I gulped, casting my gaze downward. "Professor, I—"

It was clear there was nothing I could say to stop the direction this conversation was headed, as she raised her hand, cutting me off. "Lia," she started firmly, clasping her hands in front of her, "I realize yesterday's events may have been overwhelming and cause for an investigation, but I wanted to let you know, before you heard elsewhere, that the department has decided to not look into the conclusions and next steps Miles presented in his defense."

Those words, while upfront and honest, put an ache in the back of my throat. All that work, down the drain. Completely and utterly useless now.

"But why?" I asked, my voice strained, needing to understand. "I realize there needs to be solid proof, but we both know he stole my work." My fists clenched as a wave of anger rolled through me. "I came to you weeks ago about this and you had first-hand knowledge that I was the one working to prove if my hypothesis was correct. I have lab results saved under my name for the past month. I don't get how, even with that knowledge, the department would decide not to investigate his actions."

"Because, Lia, with technicalities at play, Miles didn't steal your work."

I sent her a blank look, baffled by what she was saying. "W-what?"

Taking a seat in the empty chair, she looked me in the eye and explained. "While he used his presentation to make it appear like the work was his own, everything was properly cited in the appendix slides, and when I questioned him about it once you'd left, he didn't deny that you'd been the one to do the actual work. He said that framing the next steps of the research for the department was important, and that he figured since you'd already begun work on it, if he touched on your latest results, we would be more inclined to see that the work he'd done over the years was being used to continue our research. Was it ethical? No. But was it against university policy? Also no."

"So, if there aren't any consequences to what he did, then what happened to all of his things?" I asked, a crinkle of confusion on my forehead as I motioned to the empty side of the room.

"Well, I wouldn't say there were no consequences to his actions," she replied. "While we've deemed his defense successful, we have strongly suggested he remove the material he took from your research from his final report that'll go on to be published. He's also been given an unofficial warning for his actions from myself and the rest of the panel yesterday, and his application to continue working with this department has been denied. He'll be finishing up what's required of him to receive his doctorate and then he'll be moving on.

"As for his things, I know you're still moving full steam ahead with work for your upcoming defense, and that his actions yesterday had an effect on you. So, for the remaining duration of his time here, Miles will be working in an office two floors down."

I could feel my eyes widening the more she spoke, but the final point caused my brows to lift with surprise. "Seriously?"

She nodded with affirmation.

"You mean—" I felt a bubble of hope grow in my chest. "—this didn't damage anything in regard to my work? I can still present my research?"

"Of course you can," she confirmed with a light laugh, and it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. "Was that what you were worried about?"

"Kind of," I replied sheepishly.

"Lia, I thought you were simply angry about Miles actions."

"Oh, trust me, I was," I admitted, relaxing back into my chair as I expelled a breath. "But I was also worried that all my hard work had gone down the drain because of him. My mind raced to the worst-case scenario and believed that Miles had ruined both my defense and my chance at the lecturing position."

"Well, I can safely say that you don't need to worry about any of that," she replied with an encouraging smile. "Your work has been fantastic over the years, and this new research of yours has really given a lot of faculty members hope our work will continue to be successful for years to come. From what I've seen so far, your defense should be solid, and as for the job, I believe they'll be coming to a final decision in the next couple of weeks, but I'm rooting for you. I want to see you stick around."

The corners of my mouth ticked upward. "Thanks, Professor. That means a lot."

"It's well deserved," she said before standing. "But now that that's been said, I hope you're breathing easier."

Nodding, I said, "I am."

"Good, then I'll get out of your hair and leave you to your work." As she stepped into the hallway, she turned back to look at me. "And that anger you may still have at the situation with Miles? Use it. Let it fuel your way forward to prove to everyone that you belong here. Because I'm expecting great things from you, Lia, and I know that you're capable of delivering them."

I couldn't find the words to respond as an overwhelming feeling washed over me. Knowing that someone I considered to be my mentor believed in me was one of the best feelings in the world, and with my worries about Miles cast aside, there was a desire inside of me to make Professor Klein—and myself—proud.

So, with a renewed sense of confidence, I spun around in my chair, logged into my computer, and I got to work.

***

The high only lasted so long though.

While I was incredibly productive during the hours I spent at work, as soon as I got in my car and began driving home, all my other problems came rushing back to the forefront of my mind. Specifically, the fight between Derrick and I.

He definitely hadn't helped the situation by fueling my already emotional brain with the fact that he was clearly questioning our relationship, or at least the distance part of it, but I knew I was also somewhat at fault. In my frenzied state, I hadn't taken the time to let him explain himself, because if I had, I'm sure things might've ended differently. It wasn't like I found our unfortunate relationship situation to be a walk in the park. Hell no. But instead of listening to him, I'd let my rage boil over and had said some absolutely awful things to him. Things I truly didn't mean and now felt insanely guilty about.

And the worst thing was, I didn't know if a simple apology could fix what'd been broken.

I needed a second opinion, and seeing as I had yet to tell Harper and Esme about the fight, I figured my mom was the best option. After all, she gave the best advice. Plus, there was zero chance for her being able to drop by to try and console me when all I needed for that was a pint of ice cream.

Hence, when I got home, I changed into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweater before sluggishly walking back out to the living room. I plopped myself down in the middle of the couch with my phone and dialed my mom's cell.

Being a weekday and only around three 'o'clock out west, I assumed the restaurant was in the lull period before the dinner rush began, as she answered on the second ring.

"Hey, honey," she greeted, and I could hear voices in the background for a moment before they stopped. Presumably because she walked into the back office and closed the door. "Is everything alright?"

There was no hiding anything from her.

"Well, actually," I started, my voice hesitant as I tried to figure out the right way to spin this, "I need your advice."

"Okay... on what?"

"Derrick and I may have had a fight last night—"

"Oh, sweetie. About what? The distance?"

"Mostly, yeah," I sighed. My heart ached as I launched into a play-by-play of the conversation we'd had. And this time, she didn't interrupt. I imagined her sitting in her office chair, nodding along to my explanation and taking everything in. "I know I was the one who brought up the fact he wasn't there for me, but I was frustrated with the situation, and then it all just spiraled from there."

My mom was quiet for a moment. "Well, it's been, what, three weeks since you've seen each other?"

"About that, yeah."

"Then my guess is you're both starting to really feel the pressure of being apart for the first time. Before you both knew when you'd be seeing each other next, but now that there's this unknown in front of you, you're both hyperaware of it."

"Which makes sense. Except I'm scared that what I said yesterday will make him throw in the towel," I admitted, my voice cracking. "I haven't heard from him since."

"I've only met him once, dear, but I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I don't think Derrick would end things because of one fight."

The problem was, it wasn't just the fight. The distance was the main issue, and it wasn't something that could be pushed under the rug.

"Then what can I do to fix things?"

"I think it's rather simple, Lia," she said. "Do you love him?"

My eyes bulged at the simple question, but with the way my skin tingled and my heartbeat began to race, I knew the answer.

"I do," I finally whispered, admitting it out loud for the first time, "but it's not realistic."

"Sometimes love isn't realistic, Lia, but that doesn't mean it isn't real."

"I just don't know how things can work out with us being on opposite ends of the country."

"If he means that much to you, you'll find a way to make it work."

***

Except, it turned out, I was a scaredy cat. A wimp. A big fucking chicken.

After talking to my mom, I took a few days to get my thoughts together, which gave my friends ample time to figure out that something was off. And when they finally intervened to drag the truth out of me, I was smothered with love, empathy, and a lot more opinions.

Harper thought I should be the first one to reach out, whereas Esme was adamant I wait for him to extend an olive branch. But I couldn't choose.

I couldn't find the right words and didn't know how I could both erase what I'd said in the heat of the moment and take a step toward a solution to our problems with the distance.

So I said nothing. I put all my energy into work and tried to push my relationship problems to the back of my mind, and before I knew it, over two weeks had passed without a word from Derrick.

I was deep into my pit of avoidance.

The only problem was, I had two friends who were die hard Knights fans. Which meant for years I'd gone over to their place during the playoffs to cheer on the team, and even though I knew they'd understand if I decided to bail, I didn't want to do that.

Besides, watching the game included drinking alcohol, which I could really use.

It turned out not to be so bad, seeing as the man I didn't want to think about no longer played for the team, but things went downhill south near the end of the third.

I was blissfully unaware of most of what was going on, content on chatting and enjoying the company of my friends on a Friday night, but I knew when Harper turned her attention back to the television screen and suddenly went silent that something was wrong.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Um, you might want to take a look."

Brows furrowed, I glanced at the TV, not seeing anything amiss with the game. The Knights were up by two goals in the fifth game of the series, and a win tonight would put them in the lead. But when my gaze dropped to the bottom of the screen, I saw it.

The Royals had played the sixth game in their playoff series tonight, except things had not gone so good for them. They'd lost and had officially been eliminated from the playoffs.

"Shit."

Both of my friends looked my way. "What are you going to do?"

The opposite of what I had been doing, because I couldn't ignore Derrick anymore. Not when I knew how much hockey and the playoffs meant to him, especially after the rollercoaster of a season he'd had.

Pulling out my phone, I still didn't know exactly what to say, but I figured starting off simple was a start.

I'm sorry ❤️

And after waiting hours, my heart sunk to see that while the message had been read, there was no response.

a/n: only two more chapters and an epilogue to go! remember to vote and leave your thoughts in the comments below.