The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters) Sheehan-Miles, Charles (good beach reads .txt) 📖

Weatherford on the stairs accidentally, not realizing she required a three-foot bubble around her at all times. Second, when she said something nasty, I called her a bitch and told her exactly where she could go.

From that point on it was war, but on the whole, I made it through the year unscathed.

The only reason I mention this is that I never really had to deal with a lot of the petty jealousies and fights in high school or undergrad, and I guess, by the time I entered the PhD program at Rice, I assumed I’d left all that behind. I assumed from that point on, I was dealing with rational thinking adults.

It’s always dangerous to make assumptions.

It was late December, almost Christmas, when I stopped in the tiny office I shared with two other graduate assistants to clean out my desk. I was starting my fellowship at NIH after the new year, and most of my apartment was already packed and shipped to Bethesda. I had a few keepsakes in the office, and a couple of people I wanted to say goodbye to.

My last stop was Professor Ayers’ office.

After our last meeting, I was tense as I approached the office. I still didn’t know if I’d misjudged him, though the implication of his words had been unmistakable. And I didn’t like to think about that. We’d been friends for two years. We’d spent literally months out in the field together, in the mountains. It was unavoidable that more than once I’d felt attraction to him, and he had to me. But neither of us had ever acted on those moments, neither of us had ever said a word, neither of us had ever implied it. I was his student. He was married. No possibility of any relationship was there, nor did I want one.

That said: I’d trusted him. You had to trust, when you’re going off in the mountains alone with someone. We’d slept in the same tent. When one of the cougars didn’t get properly sedated and went after him, I’d stepped in the way to protect him, and I had the scars to show it. And he’d taken the cougar down after it hit me and then half-carried me down five miles of trail.

To say I was a little devastated at what happened after my dissertation defense was a huge understatement. And that was something I needed to deal with and put behind me.

When I knocked on his office door, he looked up from the paper he was studying and saw me. A flash of something passed across his face—guilt maybe? It was hard to interpret, but he stood up and said, “Carrie, come in.”

I stepped into the office. It looked like it always had: cluttered, paper everywhere, stacks of books.

“Hey,” I said, hating the awkwardness. I was never awkward with Bill. “I just wanted to stop in, I’m flying out to San Francisco tonight, and I won’t be back ... I start at NIH right after New Year’s.”

“I’m glad you came by,” he said.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Then I said, “I…” just as he said, “Carrie….”

We both stopped. Then he said, “I was hoping to talk with you before you left. I owe you an apology.”

I raised an eyebrow and listened.

“Look ... you probably know my marriage has been on the rocks for a couple of years. It was ... impulsive. Stupid. I’ve always been attracted to you, how could I not be? But I should never have said anything ... not then. I didn’t even realize, until you said something, what a difficult position I put you in.”

He was starting to ramble.

“Carrie ... you’re brilliant and beautiful, and as you were finished defending your dissertation, I guess I suddenly felt like ... if I was ever going to have a chance, it was then. But that wasn’t exactly fair to you. I’m hoping you can forgive me.”

I closed my eyes. Relief flooded through me, unexpectedly. Relief because I wanted to forgive him, and because I’d suddenly gotten a glimpse of his inner life for the first time, and I only now realized just how lonely a man he was.

“I forgive you,” I said. “Of course I do.”

He sagged in his seat, the tension draining out of him. “You have no idea how relieved I am.”

“Bill ... we’ve been friends for far too long to let this destroy it. Just ... if you ever find yourself in that position again ... don’t do it. Okay?’

He nodded. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good,” I replied.

“So you’re all set to move?”

“I shipped all my stuff out earlier this week, it’ll be waiting for me in Bethesda.”

“You need any help finding a place there? I have friends at NIH, I can put out the word if you’re looking for a roommate…”

I shook my head. “My parents own a condo in Bethesda, I’m going to move in there.”

“Ahh,” he said. “Well, that will make things easier. By the way ... I thought you should know ... this doesn’t happen often, but Nikki didn’t pass her defense.”

My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? Why not?”

Nikki Reynolds was no friend. But I was still somewhat shocked. Rarely in my life had I met anyone so ill-equipped for a scientific career. It wasn’t that she was lazy or had bad intentions … it was that she just wasn’t careful or meticulous, and when her research turned out wrong, she blamed other people. Mostly me. More than once she’d slyly suggested that my success at Rice had less to do with my scientific ability and more to do with my looks.

I’d tried more than once to defuse her. I’d helped her out. I sent her Christmas and birthday cards. I did everything I could, but for two years I’d felt I was being stalked by someone who couldn’t recognize her own weaknesses. The last straw had been when I briefly dated Jose Boras, another graduate student, a little over a year before I met