Chapter Thirty Four

Wednesday;

It was just after five in the afternoon, and the park was bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. I sat on a weathered park bench, watching as ducks lazily glided across the pond's glassy surface. The world around me was serene—children's laughter echoed in the distance, birds flitted between trees, and the sky was beginning to streak with shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

Lea had been with me a few minutes ago, but she left to grab something from my car, only to be interrupted by a call from her mother. Now, she stood behind a nearby tree, speaking in hushed tones while I soaked in the quiet moment alone.

That peace was soon broken, though not unpleasantly, by a familiar blur of fur out of the corner of my eye. I looked over just in time to see Tuna, Montgomery's dog, barreling toward me at full speed. His tail wagged furiously, a sure sign of his excitement. And if Tuna was here, that meant Montgomery wasn't far behind. Sure enough, I spotted her jogging in the distance, her pace relaxed, clearly not in any rush to catch up to her energetic companion.

Tuna skidded to a stop in front of me, his tongue lolling out happily as he waited for the attention he knew he'd receive. "Hey there," I greeted him warmly, leaning forward to give him a well-deserved scratch behind the ears. His tail thumped against the ground as he leaned into my hand, clearly pleased with the greeting.

I looked up and saw Montgomery slowing to a stop as she reached us, her hair slightly tousled from the jog. She smiled, a bit out of breath but looking effortlessly at ease, like this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Montgomery plopped down beside me, her presence warm and casual as she glanced first at me, then at Tuna. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she leaned forward to pet his head. "The moment he ran off, I knew you were here," she said with a shake of her head, her fingers brushing lightly over Tuna's fur.

Our hands accidentally touched, sending a jolt of awareness through me, and I quickly pulled mine back, resting it awkwardly on the armrest of the bench. I tried to focus on something else, but it was hard. She looked really good today—her tank top showing off toned arms and shoulders, making it difficult not to steal glances. I bit the inside of my cheek, willing myself to keep things normal.

"Well, I'm here most of the time," I shrugged, trying to sound casual, leaning back against the bench.

"Hmm," she hummed, her eyes sliding over to meet mine for a brief moment, "I still think we should organize a playdate for you and Tuna." Her voice was smooth, but there was a playful undertone, like she was challenging me to agree.

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. "I'd love that," I admitted, watching as Tuna sprawled out lazily in front of us, content with the world. A playdate with Tuna didn't sound bad at all—but I wondered if Montgomery was hinting at more than just time with her dog. The idea made my heart skip a beat, but I forced myself to stay grounded.

Right now, it was just about the dog. Or at least, that's what I told myself.

A few moments of silence hung between us before I turned toward her, curiosity tugging at me. "How come Vargas never takes him for a walk?" I asked, glancing down at Tuna, who was lying contently at our feet.

Montgomery's expression shifted, her lips pressing into a tight line as she stared off into the distance, eyes a little darker. "She never was one for exercising," she said quietly, her voice tinged with a trace of bitterness. Then, with a shrug, she added, "But honestly, I don't care if she doesn't take him. It means I get to do it."

I nodded, absorbing the weight behind her words. I stole another glance at her, my eyes briefly tracing the definition in her arms, muscles that spoke of those runs in the park and strength that clearly wasn't just physical.

"The exercising's definitely paying off," I quipped, unable to stop myself. My eyes flicked to her arms again, lingering longer than I should.

She clicked her tongue, her lips curling into a smirk as she caught me in the act. "Ms. Wilson," she drawled, a teasing glint in her eyes, "my eyes are up here."

I swallowed hard, feeling a rush of heat color my cheeks. "Right," I muttered, forcing my gaze back to her face, though it was impossible to ignore the playful tension crackling in the air between us.

I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of Montgomery's gaze still on me. Tuna had shifted, now lying on his side, his tail giving a lazy wag as he dozed. I focused on him, using the distraction to calm my racing heart.

"Why do you always do that?" Her voice was steady, though there was a softness to it that made me glance up, unsure of what she meant. Her eyes, however, were fixed on me, intense and unrelenting, making the air between us suddenly feel heavy.

"What do you mean?" I asked, but even as the words left my mouth, I could sense what she was getting at. My pulse quickened under her scrutiny, and just like that, I broke eye contact, my gaze darting to the grass or to Tuna—anywhere but her.

"That," she said quietly, her voice laced with curiosity, maybe even a hint of frustration. "You keep breaking eye contact with me."

She was right. I did keep looking away. Every time our eyes locked, it felt like too much—like I could drown in their depth, get lost in the unspoken words between us. It was easier to look anywhere else than risk falling deeper into whatever was happening here.

Before I could respond, Lea's voice cut through the moment like a knife. "Val, baby!" she called out, and I instantly saw Montgomery's head whip around in the direction of the voice. "I finally booked us a reservation at that fancy restaurant!" Lea grinned, cupping her hand over her phone's speaker. "Be with you in a minute!" She continued talking, a mischievous glint in her eye as she lingered by the tree.

Montgomery's jaw tightened, her body stiffening beside me. My stomach sank as I realized what Lea was doing—she was playing a game, one designed to make Montgomery jealous. And by the look on her face, it was working.

"I didn't realize you had company," she said, her voice clipped, her jaw tight. Before I could react, she stood up, brushing invisible dust from her pants. "I'll leave you to it."

I jumped to my feet, not wanting her to go. "You don't have to leave," I said quickly, my voice almost pleading. "You're more than welcome to sit with us."

She turned to glance at me, and any warmth or friendliness that had been there earlier had completely vanished. Her expression was cold, detached. "I'd rather not," she muttered, fastening the leash onto Tuna's collar. She began walking away, her back rigid with tension, but just a few steps in, she stopped and turned toward me, her expression unreadable.

"You know," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Not everyone deserves your attention. You should be careful who you give it to."

Her words felt like a slap, and I crossed my arms defensively, raising an eyebrow. "And what? You think you deserve it?" I asked, my voice sharp, frustration bubbling up.

Montgomery's gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, her lips curving ever so slightly into a confident smirk. "Yes," she replied coolly.

And with that, she turned on her heel, Tuna trotting at her side, leaving me standing there, conflicted and rooted to the spot as she disappeared into the distance.

Montgomery was a walking contradiction. One minute, she was kind and playful, the next she was cold, throwing up walls between us. She was in a relationship, yet she couldn't stand it when Lea was around me. What was her deal?

I sighed heavily as I dropped down onto the bench, rubbing a hand over my face. Seconds later, Lea flopped down beside me, a wide grin plastered across her face, practically buzzing with excitement. "Did it work?" she asked eagerly, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

I shot her a look, "What, you mean Montgomery walking away all pissed off?"

Lea clapped her hands, laughing in delight, "So it did work! She's totally jealous." She leaned back, stretching her arms behind her head, looking far too pleased with herself. "And guess what? I've got the perfect plan to push her right over the edge."

I frowned, turning to look at her, unsure of where she was going with this. "Lea, I don't think playing with her feelings is the best idea. Messing with people—especially someone like Montgomery—could get really messy."

Lea rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. Don't tell me you're so in love with her that you've completely forgotten how she's been playing with your feelings this entire time? Come on, Val. A little payback wouldn't hurt. Besides," she added, a wicked glint in her eye, "if it works, you'll finally know how she really feels about you."

No, I definitely wasn't in love with Montgomery. At least, I didn't think I was. Honestly, I didn't really know what love felt like. But whatever this was between us—it was complicated, confusing, and I wasn't a fan of playing games with people's emotions.

"First of all, Montgomery's still in a relationship," I began, shaking my head, "and I have zero interest in being the reason for any cheating or break-up. I'm not that kind of person." My voice was firm, but inside, a tangle of emotions stirred, making me question if it was all as clear-cut as I made it sound.

Lea's mouth hung open in surprise. "Wow," she breathed, blinking a few times as if to process what I said. "You're way too kind for this world, Val, but just think about it. If Montgomery's really that into you, why should you hold back?"

I furrowed my brows. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked, confused by how easily Lea seemed to be orchestrating this whole thing. Surely her own relationship would be an issue with all this fake flirting.

Lea grinned, unfazed. "Yeah, I do," she said with a chuckle, "but before you get the wrong idea, Regina's totally fine with it."

"Wait, really?" I asked, skeptical. "She's just okay with you pretending to flirt with me to make Montgomery jealous?"

Lea nodded, her grin only widening. "Yup. She trusts me, and we have that understanding. The only rule? No kissing." She wiggled her eyebrows, clearly amused by the whole situation, while I just sat there, trying to process how this somehow didn't seem like a complete disaster to her.

Should I really do this? Pretend to be in a relationship with Lea just to push Montgomery's buttons? The idea swirled in my head, tempting me with the thought of finally getting a reaction from her, but something deep down tugged at me—pulling me back.

No. I couldn't. I wasn't raised like that. My mother and my aunt always taught me to be better than this, to value integrity over pettiness. I wasn't someone who toyed with other people's emotions, even if they had played with mine. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of my own conscience settle in.

Montgomery may be confusing, frustrating even, but she was still in a relationship; a real one. And as much as my heart stirred at the idea of pushing her over the edge, I couldn't let myself become the reason it all fell apart—for her or for Vargas.

"I won't do it," I said quietly, more to myself than to Lea. The air felt heavy, like I was standing on the edge of something I wasn't quite ready to leap into.

✿

Thursday;

Lea and I were lounging in the lecture hall, the glow of my laptop illuminating our faces as we played a game to pass the time. The room was slowly filling up with students, and I found myself thinking about the decision I made last night—lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, turning things over in my mind. I'd decided to stop letting Montgomery get to me. I'd still be her TA, still do my job, but I wouldn't encourage her flirtations anymore. I had to draw a line.

Eventually, Montgomery strode in, her heels clicking against the tile floor. Immediately, I exited the game, pulling my laptop closer as the room fell silent. Lea glanced at me, lowering her voice as she leaned in, "I am not in the mood for her attitude today."

Before I could respond, a moth the size of a small bird—well, almost—landed squarely on her shoulder. I blinked, biting back a smile. "Uh, Lea... there's a moth on your shoulder."

Her head snapped towards me, eyes wide in panic. "What!?" she shrieked, her voice a little too loud for the quiet lecture hall. She flailed, looking utterly horrified. "Get it off! Get it off!" Her voice was trembling, like she was on the verge of tears.

The entire lecture hall fell into a hush, every single person turning to look at us, even Montgomery, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto the commotion. I could feel the weight of all that attention, and once again, Lea and I were at the center of a disruption. Why was it always us?

"GET IT OFF!" Lea screamed, her voice echoing through the room. She shot up from her chair, spinning wildly like a human tornado, trying to dislodge the moth clinging to her shoulder. The whole scene was too ridiculous, and I burst into laughter, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.

"Lea, stop moving!" I managed between giggles, getting up from my chair to help. I gently grabbed her by the shoulders to make her stand still and flicked the moth away. But in a cruel twist of fate, the moth decided to dive-bomb straight into her face. Lea shrieked, jerking her body back so violently that she lost her balance and tumbled to the floor with a thud.

The entire room was holding its breath, watching the chaos unfold. Lea scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide and wild as she frantically scanned the room for the offending insect. "Where is it?" she muttered, still disoriented. Not spotting the moth anywhere, she shook her head in defeat, grabbing her bag. "Yeah, no. I'm out. That moth is going to come back and attack me, I just know it."

Without waiting for my reply, she bolted for the door, leaving me standing there, struggling to suppress my laughter as the hall erupted into murmurs and scattered chuckles. Montgomery, on the other hand, looked less amused, her arms crossed as she stared at me, clearly waiting for an explanation.

I muttered a quick apology under my breath as I slipped back into my chair, trying to avoid Montgomery's gaze. She shook her head, her expression a mix of irritation and mild anger, before pulling a stack of papers from her handbag. With a practiced air of authority, she began distributing them around the room, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor.

As she approached, I kept my head down, relieved that I'd actually studied for this quiz. When she finally reached me, she handed over my paper without even glancing in my direction, her attention fixed elsewhere. I swallowed hard, knowing she was probably still annoyed from the earlier chaos.

The moment she returned to her desk, I flipped the paper over and skimmed through the questions. A wave of relief washed over me—this quiz was going to be a breeze. Each question felt familiar, my mind already piecing together the answers. At least this time, there wouldn't be any reason for her to scold me for leaving things blank.

After the lecture, which felt like it dragged on for an eternity, I finally escaped the classroom, my feet carrying me toward the familiar sight of the campus fountain. The soft rush of water was oddly soothing as I approached, spotting Lea lounging on the stone edge with a cigarette between her fingers.

Plopping down beside her, I leaned back and stretched, relishing the fresh air after being cooped up in that dull room. I glanced over at Lea, my eyes catching on the smoke she blew out in lazy streams, "You're afraid of moths?" I asked, an amused smile tugging at my lips.

Lea took another long drag, her expression unbothered as she exhaled the smoke into the cool afternoon air. "Deathly afraid of 'em," she admitted, shaking her head. "They scare me to death." Her voice was casual, but the way her eyes flickered at the mere mention of moths was enough to make me chuckle.

"Really?" I teased, turning to face her fully. "Out of all the things, moths are your weakness?"

Lea groaned, flicking the ash from her cigarette. "They're unpredictable little bastards, okay? They just flutter around all creepy-like, and I never know where they'll land." She shuddered theatrically, making me laugh.

I chuckled softly, shaking my head at Lea's moth phobia as I crossed one leg over the other. The quiet between us lingered for a moment, peaceful but fleeting. Suddenly, an idea sparked in my mind, and without hesitation, I jumped up and grabbed Lea's wrist, yanking her to her feet.

"What the—?" Lea's eyes went wide in surprise, her cigarette barely hanging on as she took one last drag before flicking it into the trash. She stumbled along, trying to keep pace with me as I dragged her down the path.

"Dude, where the hell are we going?" she asked, glancing around with a bewildered expression.

"Montgomery's office," I said over my shoulder as we rounded the corner of the building, my grip still firm on her wrist.

We reached the familiar door, and I knocked confidently before pushing it open. Lea hesitated for a second, clearly wanting to bolt in the opposite direction, but I wasn't having it. I tugged her inside, closing the door behind us with a soft click.

Turning back around, I locked eyes with Professor Montgomery, who was seated behind her desk, her gaze already fixed on us with an air of thinly veiled irritation. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and her brow furrowed, but she remained silent, waiting for an explanation.

Lea fidgeted beside me, her discomfort almost tangible, like static in the air. I could sense her desperate urge to bolt, her body slightly angled towards the door. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself, deciding to handle this as smoothly as possible.

"Professor," I started, my voice steady though my pulse was racing. Montgomery's eyes flicked from Lea to me, her expression unreadable but less sharp than before. I noticed the tension in her shoulders ease just a little. "Lea, my friend..." I emphasized that word, making sure Montgomery understood there was nothing more than friendship between us. Her gaze softened, ever so slightly, but I didn't give her the satisfaction of knowing I'd caught it.

Lea shifted again, and I could tell this apology was the last thing she wanted to do. But I wasn't about to let her off the hook. "She would like to apologize for always disrupting your lectures," I continued, giving her a pointed look that made it clear she needed to speak.

For a beat, Lea stayed silent, clearly hoping I'd magically drop the subject. When she didn't budge, I jabbed her ribs gently with my elbow, forcing her hand. "Ouch!" she hissed, rubbing her side before casting me a look that screamed betrayal. I raised my eyebrows, silently urging her to get it over with.

Lea let out a dramatic sigh before finally speaking. "I apologize for disrupting your lectures, Professor," she mumbled, looking anywhere but Montgomery's eyes.

Montgomery leaned back in her chair, her gaze calm but sharp, crossing one leg over the other in a fluid motion that drew my attention, despite myself. The fabric of her skirt slid up slightly, just like before, revealing the slightest glimpse of her thigh. I quickly snapped my eyes back to her face, hoping she hadn't noticed where my gaze had lingered. Her lips curled ever so slightly, that familiar look of amusement playing beneath the mask of her cool professionalism.

"Apology accepted, Ms. Grayson," Montgomery said, nodding toward Lea, her tone formal yet dismissive. Lea seemed all too eager to escape, but just as we were about to leave, Montgomery's voice cut through the air again.

"Not you, Ms. Wilson." Her words stopped me in my tracks.

Lea gave me a quick, almost pitying glance before she slipped out of the office, leaving me behind. I let out a soft sigh, trying not to let the unease show, and turned back to face Montgomery. I slowly walked over to the chair across from her desk, dropping into it with a huff, still unsure of what exactly she wanted.

Montgomery's gaze remained locked on me, her expression impossible to read, but the intensity in her eyes made the room feel even smaller, like all the air had been sucked out. She shifted in her chair, her posture relaxed but commanding as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk between us. Her fingers laced together casually, but her eyes never wavered from mine.

"What're you doing on Saturday?" she asked, her tone casual, but there was something in the way she spoke that made my heart skip a beat.

I blinked, thinking for a moment. "Probably be at the hospital," I said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant even though her question caught me off guard. "Why?"

She pursed her lips slightly, and for a second, I thought I caught a glimpse of a smile before she spoke. "I was thinking we could meet up at the park, and you could have that play date with Tuna we talked about."

My heart jumped. "Sure!" I answered a bit too quickly, excitement bubbling up before I could contain it. "At what time should I be there? Should I bring anything? I don't have any toys, but I can—"

"Sweetheart," she interrupted me with a soft chuckle, her voice warm and teasing, cutting off my rambling effortlessly. "Calm down." My breath caught in my throat. Sweetheart. She had never called me anything like that before, and hearing it now made my heart race even faster.

The playful gleam in her eyes sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, the atmosphere in the room suddenly charged with something unspoken. I shifted in my seat, trying to focus, but Montgomery's smile, soft and knowing, only made it harder to steady myself.

"You don't have to bring anything," she said, her voice smooth and comforting. "I invited you, so I'll take care of everything."

"Are you sure?" I asked, adjusting my posture, as if moving would help ease the fluttering feeling in my stomach. She nodded, her expression relaxed yet focused.

"Of course," she replied, her tone teasing as she leaned back in her chair, "just wear something comfortable since you'll be running around."

I felt a small smile tug at the corners of my lips, imagining the scene. "What time should I be there?" I asked, glancing at her for more details.

She paused, thinking for a moment. "How about five-ish? That way, we can also watch the sunset."

My chest tightened at the thought of it—watching the sunset with her. I nodded, trying not to let my excitement show too much. "Sounds good," I agreed, glancing at the clock. "I have a lecture to get to."

Her eyes lingered on mine for a brief second longer, and she smiled. "I'll see you later, Valentina."

I waved, walking out of her office with a lightness in my step, my heart racing at the idea of spending time with her and Tuna, and the thought of that sunset made everything feel even more surreal.