Late Satisfaction

[Lucius]

With this, we say goodbye to Anthony Robertson.

Don't let the elevator door close on you on the way out, Professor!

[Lucius]

There is one subtle continuity detail embedded in the narration of this part that I like a lot.

Let me take a stab at this.

He was lying to himself again. He realized that quickly. In a single minute he could have shot someone as well. Would he forgive a murderer who lived a virtuous life for the 10 million, 519 thousand and 200 minutes that made up the 20 years before the second he pulled the trigger?

Why 20 years? That's not his age; Eleanor might be twenty, but that's not about her.

... Sex with his wife had become a rare occurrence, a perfectly normal development after being a couple for 20 years. At least, that was his hypothesis.

Is this it?

[Claire]

@Lucius I didn't think that deep about it. But I like how you think. That number does look suspicious.

It's simpler than that. It's in reference to chapter 4 part 2.

[Lucius]

@Lucius I didn't think that deep about it. But I like how you think. That number does look suspicious.

It's simpler than that. It's in reference to chapter 4 part 2.

Is that so? [EDITED]

[Claire]

@Lucius You got it! 3 points for you.

edit: @Lucius removed his correct answer. So if anybody else wants to guess and earn 3 points, go for it!

[Vela Nanashi]

Yeah huge mess you made there Prof, I really hope that Ms Green does not believe him that Eleanor did not want the position.

Also yeah his wife's life may end up messed up as well. He is well and truly in deep shit of his own making.

Silly man, yes, that type of 'mistake' is not something you recover from unless your victim decides to show mercy for some insane reason.

Yeah coming clean to his wife is the least destructive path he could take.

Will not fix all the damage he did though, that could take a lifetime if he is even allowed to.

Not super long comments this time.

No clue on the continuity though

[Claire]

Yeah coming clean to his wife is the least destructive path he could take.

That's an interesting take. I wonder what the least destructive path would be for him if he was taking the most selfish course of action not caring about accountability at all.

To me, the chain of evidence he left feels compelling already. I'm pretty sure that the university won't back him up. But how would a jury in the US judge this case? I don't really know.

[Vela Nanashi]

I mean I am sure that Ms Green was quite able to smell cum in the elevator and on him. So she probably knows something is up but probably did not say it right then and there, also I am sure uv light would light elevator up too. As panties are not usually an epically absorbant cleaning product

If he wanted to not get into trouble at all he most likely would have needed to bribe Eleanor, and make fucking sure to grovel and beg. I don't think that would work. Also sure maybe if he was more evil and capable he might try to get rid of her, but I kind of doubt he is capable of that himself. Also should she vanish I am pretty sure Ms Green would have cops on him real quick and he would fold like a wetwipe.

[Lucius]

That's an interesting take. I wonder what the least destructive path would be for him if he was taking the most selfish course of action not caring about accountability at all.

The least destructive path of not caring at all? Do nothing, I suppose, and hope that Eleanor does the same.

To me, the chain of evidence he left feels compelling already. I'm pretty sure that the university won't back him up. But how would a jury in the US judge this case? I don't really know.

I guess his lawyer would advise him to plea bargain with the DA, reduce the charges to something like 20th degree sexual assault.

[Claire]

Chapter 5 - Part 2

“Thanks, Dad. Talk to you soon!”

Eleanor hung up the phone. It was 4 p.m. and she was home again. After taking a shower, changing clothes, and getting rid of the cursed skirt once and for all, she had come to a decision. She was lacking the strength to tackle her problems alone. She needed help.

Her father was the first person she wanted to tell about what had happened. She had barely managed to get out that she needed to talk to him about something. Then her voice no longer complied with her original plan. She knew he’d blame himself for not protecting her. Most people saw in her the tall, strong woman she was. But to her father, she remained the little girl he had to protect from the dangers of this world.

She was unable to burden him with the truth, to make him feel like he failed at his most important duty. Not today, not on the phone. She’d tell him, soon and in person, but then and there, mere hours after the second assault, the experience was still too raw for her.

When her voice faltered and her father asked if everything was okay, she decided to tell him instead about her fight with her mother and how she had cut her off. He had promised her that he would talk to her mother and bring her to reason. And she had believed him, knowing he wouldn’t be intimidated by her.

This was one less burden for her to carry, although her financial troubles had become the least of her worries. Still, it was a start. She was sitting at the kitchen table, incredibly tired and wanting nothing more than to lie down. The pain in her lower abdomen and breasts reminded her of the assault in the elevator.

While cleaning herself up to the best of her ability in one of the women’s bathrooms on campus, she had found a small amount of blood between her legs. She only noticed the large bruise on her right breast at home when she undressed for a shower. As cathartic as resisting Professor Robertson had been, the trauma inflicted upon her wasn’t undone by her decision.

Usually, she preferred to endure pain rather than take painkillers. As a fighter, she disliked the idea of numbing herself for what she considered to be a minor inconvenience. But before calling her father, she had taken one nevertheless. She could feel it beginning to work. She’d have to face her trauma, eventually, she knew that. But she didn’t have to do it today.

She had enough left to do, exactly two things. First, she needed to talk to Eugene. She wanted to ask him for forgiveness, then tell him the truth if he was willing to accept her apology. She needed him as a friend and ally. But more than that, she simply didn’t want him to suffer anymore because of what she had done. She'd do anything in her power to make up for her mistake.

He wasn’t home. But he had left his phone and a receipt for a basketball on the kitchen table. That gave her an idea of where she might find him. But she wanted to tackle the second point on her to-do list first.

She had to know what the connection between Professor Robertson and her mother was.

“I love coming inside you, Victoria!”

That was what he had said to her before she pushed him away. The memory made her shudder. How did he know her mother? Had they been a couple at some point? Had he taken revenge on her for something her mother had done?

She didn’t want to tell her mother that he raped her. All she needed to know was that one of her professors recognized her. Eleanor would pretend that she was just curious how they knew each other. A perfectly normal question for a daughter to ask her mother. But she already expected it wouldn’t be that easy. Not with her mother. It never was.

While most mothers enjoyed telling their daughters about ex-boyfriends, their school days or other nostalgic memories, Victoria considered such girl talk to be a waste of time. Still, despite knowing she’d be fighting an uphill battle, Eleanor was determined to keep pushing until she got a clear answer.

She had already pulled up her mother’s contact on her phone. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and called her mother.

Eleanor was lucky. Her call got through. The phone rang three times, then her mother picked up.

“Yes?”

The familiar, deep feminine voice sounded the same as always.

“Hi, Mom. It’s me, Eleanor.”

The words had barely left Eleanor’s mouth when she realized she had already made a mistake.

“I know. I can see who’s calling. I wouldn’t have picked up otherwise.”

Eleanor suppressed a frustrated sigh.

“Just wanted to ask you a quick question if you’ve got a sec.”

She had no trouble imagining her mother rolling her eyes.

“You know I’m working at this time. That’s why we agreed to schedule our weekly call for Wednesday evening, in case you forgot.”

She hated that, to her mother, she was nothing more than another appointment in her busy schedule.

“I know, but it’ll be just a min...”

“Ms. Gardner?”

Another voice on the other end interrupted their call.

“Wait a moment.”

Just like that she had lost her mother’s attention again. Obviously, she wasn’t speaking directly into her cell phone anymore. But if Eleanor focused on the distant sounding voices on her mother’s end of the line, she could understand what they were saying.

“Yes?”

“The congressman has sent word that he will be 10 minutes late.”

Eleanor recognized the voice of the man speaking to her mother. He was her personal assistant. She had met him only a couple of times, but he had always been nice to her. She could hardly imagine how someone so considerate was able to endure her mother’s presence day in and day out.

“Thank you. Let him know that this is the first and last time I’ll support his campaign if he is late again to a meeting I asked for.”

Her mother’s world was foreign to her. Eleanor had been raised by her father and taken on his last name. And her mother didn’t talk about her private life in public. So nobody associated Eleanor with the Gardner name. Fortunately for her, this meant she never had to learn how to navigate the world of politicians and powerful businessmen. Then her mother spoke to her again.

“You’re in luck. I have 10 minutes for you. What do you want?”

Eleanor was determined to use those 10 minutes.

“Um… You might find it hard to believe, but today I…”

She was briefly considering how to phrase what she wanted to say.

“… spoke to one of my professors, and I think he knows you from way back. Crazy coincidence, right?”

A moment of silence, then she got an answer.

“That’s why you’re calling me while I’m working?”

Why did she have to be like this? What was so difficult about simply saying ‘Oh wow, tell me, what’s his name? Let’s see whether I know him.’? Eleanor tried to ask her question regardless, but her confidence was all but gone.

“I just wanted to know how you know him. I think he liked you, and um… his name is…”

Her mother interrupted her before she could even finish the sentence.

“Eleanor, you know that I don’t care for gossip. Is that all? Or did you want anything else?”

Eleanor was shaking like a volcano about to erupt. If her mother hung up on her now, she’d throw her cell phone against the kitchen door just like the glass last Friday.

“What the hell is your damn problem?! You make it sound as if I’m calling you all excited three times a day because I saw some girl in class wearing something from the newest White Mare collection! One of my professors knows you and I just want to know how! What’s so fucking horrible about that? For once in my life, could you stop being Victoria Gardner for FIVE! FUCKING! MINUTES! and just be my mother?!”

Eleanor was huffing into her phone. There was only silence on the other end of the line. For a moment she wondered whether she had missed how her mother had hung up because she felt disrespected. But then she got an answer.

“What’s your professor’s name?”

What was that in her voice? Pride? Approval? It didn’t matter. She had to stay focused on her goal. This was a rare opportunity she couldn’t let slip by.

“His name is Anthony Robertson. He’s my linear algebra professor.”

Her mother knew immediately who she was talking about.

“Yes, I know Anthony. A sharp mind. But ultimately an unremarkable man who wasted his potential seeking the comfort of a tenured professorship, settling for mediocrity. He’s no one you should look up to.”

Her mother’s judgment of Anthony Robertson was precise and brutal. The self-assurance with which she expressed it made it sound less like an opinion and more like the sober declaration of an undeniable truth. Had she said the same about him a week ago, Eleanor would have defended him. But after everything she went through because of him, she saw nothing worth defending about him anymore. Looking up to him was the last thing on her mind. Eleanor didn’t respond to her mother’s assessment of him at all. There was another question she had to ask even if she already had some idea what the answer was going to be.

“And um… have you two… ever been a couple… maybe? He seemed to be… quite fond of you.”

She couldn’t wait to hear her mother’s response.

“No, we spent quite a bit of time together in school though. He was obviously in love with me, but we were never a couple. We must have been 13 or 14 when we met. We even went to the same university for a year. But after I went to Princeton, we lost contact. I suppose he gave up on his infatuation with me shortly after. Last thing I heard, he got married.”

To Eleanor, it sounded like Professor Robertson had been in love with her mother throughout his entire youth. She took a deep breath. There was no point wondering how much less she would have suffered at his hands if her mother had thoroughly rejected him early on. She imagined her mother had strung him along for quite a while because he had been useful to her in some way. Still, no matter what her mother had done, she wasn’t responsible for the fact that he raped her.

“Thanks, Mom. That’s all I wanted.”

Her mother hesitated briefly before she responded.

“Good, I have to go. We… we could talk again tomorrow if you want to.”

They hadn’t spoken at all in the past few weeks. But before their fight, Wednesday evening had been reserved for their weekly call.

“Dad wants to talk to you later today. If you still want to call me after that, just let me know.”

Her mother let out an exhausted sigh.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand that man…”

Eleanor was able to detect a hint of affection behind the exaggerated exhaustion.

“Bye, Mom.”

“Bye, Eleanor.”

All things considered, this went better than expected. Her mother had been Professor Robertson’s unrequited love and she had paid the price for it. She didn’t know what to do with this new information. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t seem to matter much. But at least it gave the part of her that had been searching for a reason a kind of peace.

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We're getting close to the finish line! One more part to go. As always, ratings and comments are very welcome!