I’m taken aback when Anna walks into the classroom.
I squint, making sure it’s really her. She’s changed, looking older and worn out.
I can’t figure out why she’s here.
She had a scholarship to Stanford when I left. She’d worked hard for it, and she’s smarter than me. If I could make it, she definitely could.
So why is she here? And why does she look so tired?
When she mentions staying behind with another professor over some paperwork, I get it.
I can see it in the way she carries herself, and I can hear it in her voice, the slight tremble she tries to hide. I know her well. I know what makes her tick, what she loves, and how she behaves.
She’s not telling the truth. There’s another reason she’s late. A reason she doesn’t want anyone to know.
Throughout the lecture, she never looks my way. I try to catch her eye a few times, but she just keeps writing.
When the professor asked me to interview a student for my team, she said she had someone in mind. I was game for new talent, but I didn’t expect Anna to be the candidate.
I’m not surprised she’s the one, given her accomplishments. She always gives everything her all. No half measures. But I’m shocked when she turns down the offer. The professor isn’t happy, but Anna says she already has a job lined up.
I feel a mix of disappointment and jealousy. Not because I hate her—I could never hate her—but because I’m envious.
I know she’s been living without me for a while. But seeing her do it in front of me brings back memories of our past. The love we shared.
I cherished every moment we had together. Even though it was brief, we made the most of it.
After the lecture, I ask if anyone has questions. As expected, I get a lot of personal ones. I can’t help it. I’m not bad-looking, and being a CEO with a decent income helps me forget the lonely nights with the company of women.
I haven’t been in a relationship since Anna. I’m young and running a company, so time is a luxury I don’t have.
When the professor dismisses the class, I see Anna pack up and head for the door. I ask her to stay behind.
Now I can really look at her. She looks exhausted, with bags under her eyes and cheap clothes. Her oversized t-shirt is tucked in and has a stain. Her ripped jeans are clearly too big.
I can’t understand it. Her parents are all about appearances.
They wouldn’t let her leave the house looking like this.
Her hair is in a messy bun, the kind she used to wear to bed.
What happened?
Then she tells me something I never expected.
I never thought Anna’s parents would kick her out.
I’m lost in thought, trying to get more information from her, when she says, “I told you what you wanted to know, James. You left me four years ago without a word. You didn’t keep in touch like you promised.”
Damn.
I knew when I left that I had to cut all ties.
That’s all it would have taken for me to run back to her.
I wanted to make something of myself, and I wanted her to do the same.
But I knew we couldn’t do it together, apart. Our love was too strong to survive a separation like that.
Now, I’m not so sure.
“I guess I didn’t deserve that kind of love after all.”
I’m shocked. Does she really think I don’t love her?
Why else would she say that?
She turns and leaves the classroom. I know she’s crying. I want to go after her and comfort her, but I don’t have that right anymore. I broke my promise.
A promise I knew I couldn’t keep when I took the opportunity.
I rub my face and run my hands through my hair.
“Jesus, what did you do to her?” the teacher asks, looking shocked. Like it’s all my fault.
“I’ve never seen her like this,” she admits, pointing to where Anna stood just a minute ago, helping me understand her reaction.
“What do you mean?” I ask, wanting to know more about this woman who looks like the woman I loved, but isn’t the same. My sweet, gentle girl is gone.
She sighs.
“In the two years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her this... emotional. She’s always so composed and mature, even when she had to ask for an extension on a paper because she was working extra shifts at her other job.”
“She doesn’t know that I know how much she works. That girl is strong. It just surprised me to see her so emotional.”
I get it now, and I nod in understanding.
“So again, what did you do?”
“I left, just like you heard. I got the opportunity of a lifetime and I grabbed it. She told me I had to go, but I promised I’d keep in touch. Then I changed my phone number and tried to forget everything. I thought she was off to Stanford,” I confess, burying my face in my hands.
“Why would you promise something you didn’t plan on keeping?” she asks, her voice laced with understanding.
“I didn’t know her folks kicked her out…” It doesn’t make what I did right, but if I had known, maybe I would’ve…
No point in thinking about what I could’ve done. It won’t change a thing.
“Shit…”
The teacher nods, “According to her student file, she finished high school online.” That revelation throws me for a loop. How could they just do that?
“They kicked her out in the middle of the school year? What the hell happened to her?”
“I don’t know, she keeps things close to her chest.”
“Damn it, Anna. And let me guess, she’s not accepting any help?” The teacher shakes her head.
“You know her pretty well, don’t you?”
My eyes drift to the door she just walked out of, and my heart fills with a profound sadness.
“I loved her. She’s the only one I’ve ever loved.”
“But I’m afraid I’ve lost her for good.”
