"But don't treat me like a fool."
Doris's eyes were red from crying. She tugged timidly at Fabian's sleeve.
"Professor Morton, please don't fight with your wife because of me. I don't need this paper anymore..."
"This is all my fault."
Fabian rubbed his brow in frustration. "Doris, go home for now."
Once the door closed, only the two of us remained in the lab.
Fabian watched me in silence for a moment, then sighed.
"Fine. I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Since you won't give it up, let's drop the whole thing. Forget I said anything."
I didn't respond. Didn't even look at him.
Fabian suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind, his voice impossibly gentle.
"Sara, we've been married for years."
"Why argue in front of a student and give people something to gossip about?"
He said he'd just had a lapse in judgment—that he felt sorry for Doris because she had talent but hadn't found her footing yet, and he'd been too eager to help her along.
But it sounded like nonsense to me. I pushed him away with a cold laugh.
"Fabian, are you lying to me?"
I stared straight into his eyes.
Every word deliberate.
"Why did it have to be my paper you took for Doris?"