Page 169 of The Professor's Wife

Rowe clung to my waist, burying his face in my pajamas. I hadn’t changed into a dress. For once, Oliver hadn’t demanded it. He knew how far he had pushed me.

I held Rowe as long as I dared, then slowly got him ready. I put him in his blue-and-white uniform and combed back his hair. Rowe wasn’t his usual cheery self. I could see the anxiety in him.

At breakfast, Oliver appeared with a bright smile.

“Morning, buddy,” he said, ruffling Rowe’s hair. “Are you excited?”

I watched him, teeth clenched, stomach turning at his false cheer. Rowe hardly looked up at him as he slowly forced spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

“Rowe,” Oliver prompted, staring down at him sharply. “I asked you a question, bud.”

“I don’t wanna go,” Rowe huffed out. “I want to stay here. With Mama.”

Oliver glanced at me quickly. His hard eyes met mine. He dared look suspicious.

“What are you talking about? You’ve been telling me how excited you are about this all summer.”

“I changed my mind.”

I crossed my arms tightly as my chest expanded with emotion. Maybe Rowe could convince him to let him stay. At least until he was a little older—

And then what happens to you, Daisy? You die in that cabin, and he has him all to himself?

I held back a shudder.

Maybe I wouldn’t die. Maybe I could be strong enough to withstand it, but even as I thought those words, I could feel my body grow cold.

The survival part of me screamedno.

“Rowe,” I shakily said. “Sweetheart, you have to go.”

Rowe’s eyes darted to mine, and I nearly fell apart at the grief and…betrayal in his face. Oliver inched closer and rested a heavy hand on his little shoulder.

“Buddy,” he said soothingly, “I went through the same fears at your age. I promise it will get better.”

For an instant, I wondered if that was true. If Oliver truly had been terrified, begging to stay. I had never pictured Oliver as a child because that would have cast him in an innocent light.

I refused to allow that thought in.

Rowe shut down, saying nothing until Oliver took his mug of coffee and left the kitchen. Within seconds, I heard him speaking on the phone to someone at the university.

Business as usual for him.

The second he left, Rowe’s eyes found mine again. He didn’t speak, but our gazes locked for a long stretch of time.

I wanted to say so much to him, but the words never found their way out of my mouth.

Shame burned my cheeks because I had put us here in time. This was my fault. I didn’t want him to know there were cracks, but the way he watched me right then made me feel like he was more in tune with me than I thought.

I put away his bowl and led him to the entryway, where his bags were already packed by the door.

“The drive is supposed to be fun,” I told him, even though he already knew. “They’re going to stop halfway at the aquarium for a bite to eat. Keep an eye on a seahorse for me, will you?”

The way he continued to watch me unnerved me. I looked away from Rowe and out the window to see if the shuttle bus was there.

“I had a dream,” he said suddenly.

“What sort of dream?”