Chapter 4

I didn’t go to the hospital. Instead, I took a cab home.

The apartment Alex and I rented was a small one–bedroom. By the entrance stood a bookshelf with

several textbooks.

They were remnants from when I’d pushed him to complete his bachelor’s degree through online cour at a state university.

My mother was right – his education was limited. When we met, he said he only had a community college degree.

We were both young then. I just thought he was smart, with his whole life ahead of him. He shouldn’t

stay stuck at that level.

Even entry–level positions required bachelor’s degrees these days, with higher starting salaries.

I would work during the day, then stay up late helping him study.

While brushing our teeth side by side in the morning, I’d play French lessons on my phone, helping him review yesterday’s vocabulary. He said learning French would help his career prospects.

For months of practice GRE tests, I reviewed every question he worked through.

With time against us, we managed to complete his online degree in just eighteen months.

To celebrate, we scoured every platform for restaurant coupons just to afford a nice steakhouse dinner.

But now, reading Victoria Bennett’s messages, it all seemed absurd.

even Alex. I can’t tell

from Stanford, then Oxford. He’s incredibly young for his achievements.”

forehead, leaning

I looked up to see Alex, disheveled

missed calls from him. He leaned against the doorframe, slightly out of

breath.

as he approached, took my face in his hands, examining it. His tense expression

softened.

06:34

Love. Seven Minutes

20.5%

Chapter 4

knowing I’d tricked him, he didn’t mind, just played with my

was too brave, too quiet in that moment, for

He’d always been this composed, never

it was his impoverished youth that had forged this unflappable character, this ability to

composure might instead come from

“Alex, my mom’s pressing me to

smile not quite faded from his stern

told her I’d only marry Alex. I’m waiting for him to

at him. I hadn’t meant to cry,

after marriage. Then we’d have a child – your parents would love them. Boy or girl, doesn’t matter. A girl with your big eyes, or a boy with

from my bag, head down. “Look, I put your

repay these five passionate, foolish years of

where every step down is beneath

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