Owning My Professor

Things Fall Apart

Marcus Pov

“Are you really serious right now?”

I stormed into my wife’s room and threw the divorce papers onto the table.

She barely looked at them.

She was sitting in front of her mirror doing her night routine like nothing had happened.

Like she did not just decide to end seven years of marriage with paper.

“You were the one that betrayed me, I was the one hurt, I was the one that had to live with what happened, yet I chose to forgive you and chose my family and you go and do this?”

My voice rose.

I hated that it sounded desperate.

She looked at me through the mirror.

“Please Marcus, you have been making me walk on eggshells ever since.”

She finally turned around.

“If your forgiveness means silent treatment and cold shoulders then I do not want it.”

I stared at her.

Silent treatment?

Cold shoulders?

“No one would be okay.”

I laughed once.

Not because anything was funny.

“I needed time.”

I shook my head.

“I needed time to process things and learn to trust again.”

She sighed.

Then said quietly,

“I don’t need your love anymore Marcus.”

I froze.

Her eyes stayed on me.

“If I’m being honest, I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”

Something in my chest tightened.

I swallowed.

“I thought you cared about the boys at the very least.”

Her expression shifted slightly.

Then she looked away.

“They are boys.”

She crossed her arms.

“They need stability.”

I stared.

“And asking for a divorce fixes that?”

She looked tired.

“The only thing I want to fix right now is my sanity.”

Then she said quietly,

“I’m choosing myself.”

I stared at her.

For a second I genuinely wondered if she could hear herself.

“Can you stop for a minute and listen to yourself?”

My voice echoed.

She stood up.

Walked to the wardrobe.

Started packing.

I stared.

At first I thought she was trying to make a point.

Then she kept going.

She folded clothes.

Picked up bags.

Opened drawers.

And suddenly it hit me.

She was leaving.

I walked closer.

“What are you doing?”

She did not stop.

“You can move back into the main house.”

She continued packing.

“I’m moving out.”

I laughed.

Then stopped.

“What?”

She zipped the bag.

My chest tightened.

“What the actual hell, Maggie, please don’t do this.”

Nothing.

I followed her.

Tried talking.

Tried reasoning.

Tried reminding her.

Seven years.

The boys.

Everything.

Nothing.

Eventually she picked what she could carry.

Then walked toward the door.

She stopped.

Turned.

And said calmly,

“I’ll come back for the rest later.”

Then added,

“If the boys ask, you can tell them whatever you want.”

Something in me broke.

I stopped talking.

Stopped asking.

Stopped begging.

She looked at me.

Then said quietly,

“Don’t worry.”

She adjusted the strap of her bag.

“I won’t fight for custody.”

She gave a tired smile.

“You can have them.”

And she left.

I stood there.

Not moving.

Then I looked outside.

A car.

Someone sitting inside.

I recognised him immediately.

Fred.

I had not spoken to him since that day.

I watched her get into the car.

And drive away.

That feeling…

It felt like losing something while still standing.

Like watching your life leave and being expected to continue breathing normally.

I slowly sat down.

Then at some point…

I cried.

I do not know when I fell asleep.

But when I opened my eyes…

It was already 5am.

I got up.

My back hurt.

I went to check on the boys.

Still asleep.

Peaceful.

I stood there longer than necessary.

Then went to make breakfast.

Eggs.

Toast.

Fruit.

Normal things.

Normal mornings.

I woke them.

Helped them dress.

They asked where their mum was.

I smiled.

Too quickly.

“She travelled early.”

They looked disappointed.

My youngest asked,

“When is she coming back?”

I looked away.

“Soon.”

The lie tasted horrible.

I dropped them at school.

Then stopped by my lawyer friend’s office.

After that…

I sat in my car.

Campus felt impossible today.

So I called.

Debbie answered.

“Good morning sir.”

I closed my eyes.

“Miss Greene.”

My voice sounded strange.

I cleared my throat.

“I won’t be coming in today.”

Pause.

Then quietly,

“Please give them assignments during my period.”

She paused.

Then said gently,

“Okay sir.”

I ended the call.

My life was really going downhill.

Debbie’s Pov

The moment the professor spoke…

I knew something was wrong.

His voice was normal.

Too normal.

That kind of normal people use when they are trying not to fall apart.

I remembered the office.

I remembered him crying.

So I did not ask questions.

I just followed instructions.

Prepared assignments.

Handled class.

Answered questions.

Students kept asking where he was.

I just smiled.

By the end of everything…

I realised something.

I had been avoiding my hostel.

Yesterday I stayed with Bella.

Today I wanted to stay somewhere else again.

But I could not keep running.

Eventually…

I had to go back.

So I locked the office.

Collected my things.

And headed home.

When I opened the door…

Elaine was there.

She looked up immediately.

She stood.

I stayed near the door.

She looked nervous.

“Debbie.”

I nodded.

Silence.

She spoke first.

“Can we talk?”

I looked at her.

Then quietly sat down.

She started immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

I nodded.

She continued.

“I didn’t mean for things to happen like this.”

I looked at her.

Then asked calmly,

“When did it start?”

She looked away.

I already knew.

That answer was enough.

I looked at her.

Then smiled.

Small.

Sad.

“I think what hurts me is not even Jason.”

She looked up.

I continued.

“You watched me suffer.”

Her eyes dropped.

“You knew everything.”

I swallowed.

“And you still hid it.”

She started crying.

“I’ll end things.”

I looked at her.

Then shook my head.

“No.”

She blinked.

I continued.

“You don’t need to.”

Her face changed.

I smiled.

Because suddenly I understood.

It did not matter.

I stood up.

And quietly said,

“I don’t care anymore.”

Her eyes widened.

I took a breath.

Then said softly,

“I don’t think we can be friends after this.”

She stared.

I looked around the room.

Then nodded.

“I’ll start looking for another place.”

Her face crumpled.

“Debbie…”

I shook my head.

“No.”

Then smiled.

“I wish you well.”

My phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered.

“Hello?”

Pause.

Then Professor Sullivan’s voice.

“Miss Greene…”

His voice sounded tired.

Then quietly he asked,

“Are you busy?”