My Husband's Divorce Attorney

Chapter 10

Mine and Joseph’s entire relationship could be distilled into how we rode the elevator together.

I was an overwhelmed hot mess on my first day of college; by the time I walked into my last class I was desperate to get things on track. Despite being almost ten minutes early for my English 101 class, there were a lot of students in the auditorium seats already. Small groups chatted together in scattered locations in the large room.

A dark-haired boy in glasses sat in the back corner reading a massive tome, aloof from the idle chatter in the room. He looked diligent. He looked focused. He looked pretty cute. I needed to ask a question and, for some reason, interrupting his reading seemed less intimidating than stopping the ongoing conversations.

I made my way back to the desk next to his and quietly slid into the seat. He didn’t move or adjust to my presence, he just ignored me and kept reading. Maybe I was better off interrupting someone else. However, I noticed the book he was reading was not the one I had for this class, and it caused my fears to grow. Better to find out if I was in the wrong spot sooner rather than later.

“Excuse me,” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

“What?” He responded without looking up from the book he was buried in. A little rude, but after I had asked my simple question I would leave him in peace.

“Can you tell me if I’m in the right place?”

He drew his eyebrows together, and he looked up at me for the first time. For half a moment I could only think about how rude he was, but that melted away when I saw his eyes. Framed by glasses, his hazel eyes were thoughtful and inquisitive, possibly curious as to who had interrupted him. Once he looked at me the demands of social interaction seemed to spring on him, and his demeanor softened.

“That depends,” he said with a playful smile. “Where do you need to be?”

“English 101 with Professor Jung,” I said, but continued without letting him answer. “I sat through the wrong lecture for my second class. Right room number, wrong building. So I want to make sure I’m where I need to be before class begins. I’m just struggling to get my life together today.”

He nodded at my rambling explanation, unperturbed by the onslaught. It was common for people to mix up things the first week of school, but why couldn’t I shut up?

“Don’t worry,” he said in a relaxed voice, “You are exactly where you need to be.”

A small bit of color spread on his cheeks. He closed the book he had been reading and turned toward me. “It looks like we’re classmates. My name is Joseph.”

“I’m Tiffany,” I said with too much perk in my voice. “Are you a freshman, too?”

“No,” he chuckled, “I’m a junior, but I’m retaking this class for a better grade before I apply to some law programs.”

“Oh! So you probably know your way around campus really well. Can you tell me where the study hall is from here? I was going to head there to get a jump on my assigned reading, since this is my last class of the day.”

He crinkled his nose at my question. “The study hall is an unofficial social spot. Hard to get reading done there; it’s better for group projects. I prefer to read in the library. I could show you how to get there after class.”

“That would be wonderful!” I gushed, and he shyly turned away from my enthusiasm.

Once class was over, we went to the library and took the elevator to the fourth floor. We stood against opposite sides, facing each other with the empty elevator between us. That space was filled with easy-flowing conversation as he gave me all the details on quiet spots to study, the best computer labs on campus, and the quickest routes between my classes.

That was the beginning of our friendship.

For a few weeks, we would go to the library together to study for an hour or so before heading our separate ways.

One day, as we were leaving, the elevator stopped on the third floor, and three large football players got in the elevator with us. They filled the gap between Joseph and me, ceasing our conversation immediately.

The football player who stood next to me ‘accidentally’ stumbled, pressing me against the wall. He apologized but didn’t move to give me space, and he chatted me up the rest of the ride. As we exited, he started walking with me. I stopped so that he would continue without me, but he also stopped, waving at his two teammates to go on without him.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he had asked, with obvious interest in his eyes.

“Uhhh—” He was an attractive guy, but I felt weird about the whole situation. “I live on campus, so I don’t need to go to my car.”

“Oh,” he said, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth, “Can I walk you home then?”

I froze at his question. I had been raised in a sheltered religious home, and while I chose a university far away on purpose, some beliefs were still very ingrained in me. Like the idea that men ‘walking you home’ were trying to ‘take advantage’ of you, unless they were good Christian boys of course.

I wasn’t comfortable with this large stranger knowing where I lived but he also didn’t seem like the kind of guy that handled rejection well.

I was afraid to tell this man yes, but I was equally afraid of telling him no.

“Hey Tiffy!” Joseph called. He was a few feet away, rummaging through his backpack. “I can’t find the book I borrowed in my bag. I must have left it in my car. Do you need it tonight? Or do you want me to bring it to class tomorrow?”

Relief flooded me at the opportunity he provided. “Yeah, I do need it for homework tonight. I will grab it from your car.”

I looked back at the pushy football player and shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry, maybe another time?”

The guy got my phone number and called my phone before he left. While it could have felt awkward Joseph waited politely alongside me, and he wished the guy good luck at that weekend’s game. The situation felt diffused and safe, thanks to Joseph’s gentle redirection.

“You need to learn how to just say no, Tiffy,” he chided as we walked away.

“I don’t think you understand that there are risks with open rejection,” I mumbled defensively. “Telling guys no can be scary.”

He stopped abruptly, then asked, “Are you scared of me like that?”

“Of course not,” I said, pushing him to continue walking. “You’re not trying to get something from me like most guys are.”

We walked in silence after that. Once we reached Joseph’s car, he handed me a paperback book, even though the excuse had been a ruse. It was an old fantasy series that I had read before, and we proceeded to discuss the story together for an hour before I went back to my dorm.

I took the paperback with me.

He had underlined his favorite passages in the book, and I was curious to know which words had been important to him.

After that day, Joseph started standing against the same wall as me in the elevator. We still had a respectable gap between us, but no one could interrupt our conversation anymore. I assumed it to be one of the many ways he looked out for me.

He brought me a medium black coffee every morning. We studied together and ate lunch together. He walked me to classes, and I walked him to his car on my way to my dormitory. Even though my roommates thought we were dating, Joseph was never romantic towards me. He never pressed for our relationship to be more than it was.

In all the time we were around each other he never flirted with me, or at least, not like the guys who approached me to ask me out on dates, which did happen more often than I expected. My constant dating never seemed to make Joseph jealous. In fact, he seemed amused to see them come and go, my affections always shallow or short-lived.

We were just friends.

Well, not just friends. Joseph was my best friend.

Over the course of the year, the gap between us on the elevator shrunk. The distance disappeared a millimeter at a time.

It was during my first finals week, and I had pulled an all-nighter to study. Joseph and I were on our way up to our study spot, and I inadvertently dozed off while I leaned against the wall of the elevator. It was a brief moment, but when my eyes opened I was leaning against Joseph’s arm for support.

He gave me his hoodie to use as a pillow, and I napped while he studied that day. The smell of his cologne took up permanent residence in my memory as I slept.

From that day onward we stood shoulder to shoulder in the corner, heads leaning towards one another as our conversation carried us up to the top floor. Well, more like shoulder to tricep, as my height required him to crane down low to maintain a respectful whisper. People on the elevator always seemed annoyed that we didn’t stop talking, especially the staff that had come to recognize us.

But our constant companionship was coming to an end.

After spring semester was over, Joseph was changing schools to start his law program. Even though his school was in the same city, I still dreaded the idea of our day-to-day rituals ending. I was going to miss him.

Even though he wasn’t enrolled in any classes, he still showed up to see me every day during my summer semester. His reasons for being there were flimsy at best, but I honestly didn’t mind. I was always thrilled to see him waiting for me after class, even if we just went to the library like we always did.

Except for some reason he started riding the elevator differently.

Instead of sharing the corner with me, he stood directly in front of me, leaning against the wall. Physically he was further away, but facing him was oddly more intimate.

As my back leaned against the elevator wall, I would look up at his face. The angle made his strong jawline incredibly appealing, and as he looked down at me, the moment felt jarringly familiar. It felt like the end of a dozen dates I had been on. Dates where guys that I had mostly neutral feelings for would look down at me, just like he was, and then kiss me.

This was when I realized that I did not have neutral feelings for Joseph. Because for the first time since I had started dating—

I desperately wanted to be kissed by the man in front of me.