A Dead Heart Needs No Farewell

"Why are you dressed so thin? Russell's driving me home in a bit. Here, put this coat on for now."

Elaine walked over to me, slipping the coat off her shoulders and holding it out.

That coat was the one I'd given Russell a few days ago, for our anniversary.

I hesitated, my hand still at my side, but before I could move, Russell reached out first, took the coat back, and draped it over Elaine instead.

He pulled her collar snug, the back of his hand brushing lightly along her chin.

Then he turned to look at me, calm as anything.

"Elaine's delicate. She can't handle cold like this."

Elaine's smugness was almost spilling off her face.

"Vanessa, why don't you come with us? I'll have Russell drop you home first."

Something jammed in my throat. Russell didn't spare a glance for the loss written across my face.

"The back seat's stacked with school flyers. There's no room."

"Just hail a ride home yourself."

His voice held no warmth at all. He turned and walked off the moment the words left him.

As the two of them drove past, I was still rooted where I stood.

Elaine even rolled down her window on purpose to wave at me, the corners of her mouth curved up in that way that only comes from being thoroughly adored.

"Vanessa, we're heading off, then."

Russell, in the driver's seat, wouldn't even give me a single look.

I watched until the taillights vanished completely from my sight.

Every ounce of strength drained out of me in an instant. I stumbled twice and nearly lost my footing.

2.

The winter snow drifted down and settled over me layer by layer, and still it wasn't a fraction as cold as my heart.

When I reached the campus gate, the old gate guard called out to me.

"Snow this heavy, don't go catching a cold."

He handed me a battered umbrella, one rib snapped short, so that half of it sagged when it opened, exactly like whatever was left between Russell and me.

By the time I got home, the snow had melted through and soaked my right shoulder.

Russell glanced at me without much interest, a note of mockery in his voice.

"I told you to hail a ride. Grew up in the sticks, no wonder you don't know how to enjoy a little comfort."

My background was the thing he looked down on most, and years of his disdain had ground me into someone who couldn't hold her head up.

I'd kept stretching onto my toes, trying to reach him up there on his pedestal.

But looking at it now, all of it had been for nothing. No matter what I did, in his mind I was still the same country-smelling Vanessa Hughes from five years ago.

"You know full well that with my record I should never have been cut in the preliminary round."

Russell's fingers, tapping at his laptop, paused for a beat. He said nothing.

"You cut me to clear the way for Elaine, didn't you?"

He closed the laptop, set it down on the coffee table without hurry, and only then turned his head to meet my eyes.

"I've told you many times. We have to avoid any appearance of favoritism."

"There's a professor from the state university on the preliminary review committee with a famous loose mouth. She ran into the two of us in the underground parking garage once. I did this to shut her up, so no gossip gets out."

The self-deceiving tone of it made me want to laugh.

"Just because of a flimsy excuse like that?"

He looked at me, cold and indifferent.

"It's true your file was fine, and your teaching was fine. But I want your promotion to come through clean, not because someone was doing me a favor."

I let out a scornful laugh.

"I didn't even pass the preliminary round, and you want to talk to me about clean?"