Page 40 of Tempted Hearts
But in a curious way, as if something was running through his mind, though I couldn’t imagine what that might be.
“I’ve never allowed for glimmers,” he said finally.
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Huh.” I sipped my wine, wondering if he would elaborate.
Cole turned, leaned back in his chair, and looked out to a mostly obstructed yet still somehow magical view of Monterosso at night.
“My father is a college history professor,” he said.
“Like you.”
“Yeah. Like me. When I was in ninth grade we moved out of Cedar Falls when he got a tenured-track position at Yale. The way I grew up… it wasn’t surprising I enjoyed history too. And once I got on the same track as him”—Cole looked at me—“there were no room for glimmers. My father had high expectations.”
Ahh, that made sense. In a lot of ways, actually.
“Do you like it?”
He blinked, as if not expecting the question.
“Teaching?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Or teaching at Columbia. Your kind of teaching and mine are two totally different things.”
“They are,” he agreed. “Do I like it,” Cole repeated, taking a sip of wine.
It wasn’t a hard question. And the fact that he hadn’t answered already told me everything.
“I don’t love the city. Teaching, yes. The bullshit that goes along with it. Not as much.”
“So why do you stay?”
He looked at me like I had two heads. “I’m about to make tenure,” he said.
“I get that. And I get how incredibly prestigious your position is. But it doesn’t sound like it makes you intensely happy. And no room for glimmers?”
“Intensely happy. That’s a high bar. Especially for a job.”
I disagreed. “It’s the only bar. One life Cole, that’s all you get. There are no do-overs.”
A shadow passed his features. There was something more. Something he wasn’t telling me.
After that, there was no more talk of life goals or glimmers. But I did get one more point when Cole said he was glad I lost my backpack.
“I can’t say I’m thrilled about not having a phone or wallet,” I said, Cole picking up the empty bottle after we decided it was time to call it a day. “Actually, it’s not been as bad as I thought, being phoneless. But the wallet thing is driving me nuts.”
“You really don’t have to worry about that.” Cole held the door that led to the stairs and lobby for me. “I got you.”
“Only in the sense that we’re keeping track of expenses, and I’m paying you back the second we’re back in Cedar Falls.”
“Whatever you say,monella.” He tossed the empty wine bottle into the small recycling bin and put our empty glasses on the table beside it.
We made our way to the room.
My room, not ours. Because he moved out.
