Julian Mercer set his pen down with a practiced motion, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Another paper on lease agreements done, and he’d soon start dreaming about usufructuary rights. Someone knocked on the office door. 

“Come in,” he called generously — it was just him and Elliot Vaughn in the department again today. The door cracked open, revealing the familiar blonde mane of a third-year student — one of those who asked just a few too many questions after lectures, only to veer into entirely different territory. Surprisingly, today she was dressed rather modestly — a black turtleneck and jeans. Though Julian suspected even that was calculated — the turtleneck, while modest in theory, clung to every possible curve. 

“Professor Mercer, can I ask you a quick question?” 

“My office hours are written on that very white piece of paper you stared at before opening the door, Miss Ardent.” 

“I don’t need a full hour,” Camille Ardent said sweetly, flashing a smile that had the power to short-circuit the reasoning of her male classmates.

Julian rolled his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind — the naive act was just that, an act. 

“Alright, come in.” 

As she stepped closer to the desk, she cast a quick glance of annoyance at the ever-present Elliot Vaughn sitting at the side table. But she quickly looked away. 

“So I was rereading the lecture notes and got a little confused about this part…” She dropped her notebook on the desk, leaning in a little too close, and surrounding him with a cloud of sweet perfume. “If a shareholder agreement has been signed, but one party violates it — that doesn't make the contract invalid automatically, right?” 

Julian sighed. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” 

“Well… yes,” she replied, smiling shyly — though the move was clearly rehearsed. “I mean, I tried to figure it out, but I’m still unsure. I really did try…” 

“She tried,” Elliot said without looking up from his laptop. “That alone deserves a medal. Just give her a passing grade, Julian.” 

Julian didn’t respond, but Elliot’s interjection eased the tension a little. Camille sat up straighter, remembering that she wasn’t alone with the professor after all.

“Alright then, let’s go through it. Have a seat,” Julian said, waiting for her to drag a chair over to his desk. “First off, it’s not even about the type of contract. This isn’t even covered in my lecture — it’s basic logic. The contract was signed before the violation?” 

“Yes…” 

“So it’s legally binding?” 

“Yes…” 

“And what else remains binding?” Camille’s lips parted as she clearly struggled to come up with an answer. “The consequences of breaching it,” Julian prompted. 

“Oh! Right — the consequences outlined in the agreement.” 

“Thank God,” Elliot said dryly. “Congratulations, Julian. Someone actually listens to us in class.” 

“Much appreciated, Elliot,” Julian nodded. 

She paused, staring between the two professors like she was trying to solve a puzzle. 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Elliot muttered, not looking up. Camille blinked, then gave a forced little laugh. 

“Focus, please, Miss Ardent,” Julian said quickly, hoping to steer the whole thing back on course — he had a few words for Elliot after this. “So, the consequences outlined in the contract apply if?”

“If?” Camille blinked innocently. 

Julian narrowed his eyes. 

“If what?” There was silence. “Camille, are you serious?” he asked, exasperated. 

“Oh! If the consequences are actually written into the contract!” she exclaimed at last. 

“Bravo,” Elliot clapped mockingly. 

“And if they’re not? What happens then when someone violates the terms?” 

Another pause. Camille batted her eyelashes, then smiled again: 

“That’s what I came to ask. So in that case… is it grounds for invalidity?” She twisted a lock of hair around her finger and bit her lower lip like she was deep in thought, peeking at Julian from beneath her lashes. 

He remained entirely unmoved. 

“Camille, have you read the relevant sections in the Civil Code?” 

“Well… I don’t know the exact numbers to search. And it’s hard to find them by theme — not like your faculty profile on the university website,” she said with a wink, lowering her voice just enough that only Julian could hear. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Interesting priorities. I suppose the Code has fewer photos.”

Camille laughed — open, light, unbothered. 

“And why not just search the СС directly, Miss Ardent?” Elliot chimed in again, making it clear he’d heard the whole exchange despite the lowered voice. “Don’t you own a copy of the Civil Code?” 

“I have access through the online database,” she said quickly, glancing back at him while arching her back just enough to ensure the view from Julian’s side remained generous. 

“Not what I asked. Do you have your own printed copy?” 

“Well, it’s in the database…” 

“So, when preparing for seminars, you don’t even open a physical copy?” 

“I do… just… online.” 

Elliot rolled his eyes. 

“I’m out of questions, Julian. You can resume your consultation. Though I fail to see how any of this will help her improve if she’s never even held the Civil Code in her hands, has no idea how to use it, and hasn’t read the key articles.” 

Camille flushed scarlet, right to the roots of her carefully styled hair. She hated Elliot in that moment more than anything. She had almost gotten the conversation where she wanted it — why did he have to bring up her grades?! 

Julian rubbed his forehead. He knew perfectly well she was flirting — he wasn’t born yesterday. But still, he hoped to steer her focus back toward her studies. Maybe others would dismiss it as harmless student banter, but to him, it felt like something else. Like he was a prop in someone else’s game — or worse, an unwilling actor in a play he didn’t want to be part of. The worst part, though, was that he felt Elliot watching him. Every sarcastic jab at Camille came with an edge of something sharper. Anger? Disappointment? It unsettled Julian. He didn’t want this to cause a rift between them. Students flirted all the time — with Elliot too, and Julian never got mad about that. Students were young, hormonal, after all. This didn’t mean anything. Time to end the farce. 

“Miss Ardent, please purchase a printed copy of the Civil Code,” Julian said firmly. “That’s your assignment for Monday. Practice using it. Then read, at least partly, the commentary section online — it covers all the key points. Once you’ve done that, if you still have questions, you’re welcome to return during official consultation hours. But that’s all for today.”

“Oh, of course! Thank you so much for your time,” Camille said quickly, scooping up her notebook. “You must be swamped with work — you even look tired, Professor Mercer. Maybe I could bring you a coffee? The machine just got fixed. Black, no sugar, right?” 

Julian blinked. 

“How do you know that?” 

“Oh, I was behind you in line once,” she said with a dreamy little smile, eyes cast modestly down. “Just noticed.” 

“Do you usually peek over people’s shoulders like that, Miss Ardent? I imagine you also read their texts…” Elliot Vaughn cut in snidely.

“Curiosity isn’t a sin,” Camille said with an offended tilt of her chin. 

“No, just a casual violation of privacy — which happens to be protected by the Constitution,” Vaughn finished with a biting smile. Camille flushed a deeper red. 

“Goodbye, Professor Mercer,” she said icily, directing the farewell only to Julian and completely ignoring Vaughn. She turned on her heel and exited, slamming the door behind her. 

“Well, looks like she changed her mind about bringing you coffee. Tragic,” Elliot chuckled, turning back to the fresh commentary on the civil code glowing on his laptop screen.

Julian ran a hand down his face and let out a heavy sigh. The room fell into a loaded silence, filled only with the lingering trace of Camille’s perfume. Finally, Elliot couldn't hold it in anymore — he was practically bursting. "The civil code isn’t as easy to Google as your university faculty page,” he squeaked in a mocking falsetto. 

“Maybe they should just attach your photo to the code. That way students might actually read it.” 

“You don’t have to be so sarcastic,” Julian said tiredly. 

“Why not? Just because she walked in here flirting with you? Am I supposed to sit there in silence? Come on. If she’s asking those kinds of questions in her third year, then either she’s pretending to be clueless to get attention, or she really is clueless — and it's a miracle she hasn’t been expelled yet.” 

“Does it matter?” 

“You want to waste your time on that little performance?” 

“No, but—” 

“Or was it the coffee offer that flattered you so much?” Elliot’s voice was sharpening, his irritation rising visibly.

“Maybe she was just... being nice?” Julian offered weakly, not even convinced himself. He only wanted to diffuse the growing fire. They didn’t fight — not really — but given the secrecy surrounding their relationship, this moment had probably been inevitable. Julian had just hoped it would come later. Until now, he’d thought Elliot didn’t care at all about the students who flirted with him. But now… now it seemed like Julian had missed the slow simmer building under the surface, and Camille Ardent had become the final spark. 

“‘Being nice’ means coming in after having studied and asking what interpretation of the statute you expect them to present at the exam — not offering you coffee with a wink.” 

“Still, there’s no reason to be cruel about it.” 

“And what should I do instead? Sit back and enjoy the show?” 

Julian hesitated. 

“Wait… are you jealous?” 

Elliot didn’t respond right away. He held Julian’s gaze for a long moment. 

“Do you want me to be jealous?” 

“I mean... I’d like to know if you care.”

“That’s not an answer. I asked: do you want me to be jealous?” 

Julian’s brain jumped to an old joke: You can be endlessly right, but what’s the point if your spouse’s a lawyer? He could already tell Elliot would hang onto every word now, dissecting it with ruthless precision. Not that Elliot was his spouse… He had one of those already. 

Elliot slowly closed his laptop. 

“Let’s talk when you actually figure out what you want,” he said with a sigh, interpreting Julian’s silence in his own way. 

“Elliot, I appreciate that you stepped in. That whole flirtation made me uncomfortable too, but…” Julian trailed off. 

“But?” 

“You could’ve been more tactful.” 

“Why? Did you enjoy it?” 

“Of course not!” 

“Then what exactly are you blaming me for?” 

“Nothing. Just... you didn’t have to be so obvious about claiming territory!” That earned a pause. A dangerous pause. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Elliot repeated, his voice soft but laced with menace. “You think I’m out here pissing circles around you like a dog marking his turf?”

“No, I just meant—” 

“You think I should just sit there, listen to one of our students babble nonsense — clearly without reading a word — and I don’t get to comment or offer advice?” 

“Of course you do…” Julian shrank back a little. 

“Exactly. And I’ll do it however I damn well please, Professor Mercer. You’re not the only one in that office, remember that. Dial that ego down a few notches, it’s practically blinding.” 

Julian blinked, stunned. He’d never heard Elliot so openly furious. The man had just admitted — more or less — to being jealous, and now he was painting Julian as some arrogant narcissist. Julian felt embarrassed and hurt all at once. He wanted to say something, to stop the conflict from escalating, but he was too stunned to speak. 

“I’m done for today. If anyone’s looking for me, they can wait till tomorrow,” Elliot added sharply, grabbing his leather folder and heading for the door. “I’ve got a meeting with Irene anyway.” There was a pointed bite to the way he said her name. “See you tomorrow,” he tossed over his shoulder, then disappeared down the corridor. 

Julian slumped into his chair, his hands trembling slightly. He was shaking. They’d never fought like this before — never really fought at all. And the idea that they might not talk until the next day made his stomach sink. He couldn’t just run after Elliot like some lovesick student in the hallway, grabbing his arm and begging him to stay and talk. That kind of drama wasn’t an option. And Elliot wouldn’t forgive it either. Julian let out a broken sigh. He’d have to wait until tomorrow. Clearly, tonight’s visit was canceled. Wonder how long he’ll be with Irene… The thought made his chest ache. He dropped his head onto the desk with a loud thud. No — this was bound to happen sooner or later. Students flirted with him all the time. It wasn’t like he ever encouraged it. Not really. He was just… polite. That’s all. Like today. He got up and paced the room, trying to calm down. It wasn’t the end of the world. Tomorrow everything would be fine again.

Trying to believe it, Julian found himself at the window. He leaned his forehead against the cold glass and stared down at the parking lot. The cool surface soothed his aching head — he hadn’t even noticed the headache creeping in. A white Kia pulled up right below the department building. The car looked vaguely familiar. Someone was already walking toward it. Julian’s heart skipped a beat. Elliot. He stood at the front of the car, talking to someone through the driver’s window. His blazer was open, leather folder still in one hand, the other gesturing animatedly as if explaining something. His face… looked relaxed. Almost warm. No sarcasm. No stress. A clearly feminine hand reached out from inside the car to adjust the cuff of his shirt — and Elliot laughed. A full, unguarded laugh, the kind Julian never saw in public. Then Elliot circled the vehicle and got inside. Julian stood frozen, watching as the car blinked, backed out, and slowly disappeared from view. He didn’t move. Just gripped the windowsill like it might be the only thing keeping him upright.

It wasn’t news that Elliot had a wife. Julian had known that since he was a student. He’d learned much later that Elliot no longer lived with her — but hadn’t divorced, either. And now, seeing them together, casually, like nothing had changed — it still stung. Even if he hadn’t seen her face. Just her hand. Julian turned away from the window and slowly returned to his desk. He picked up his mug without thinking — empty. He set it down with exaggerated care, then slumped into his chair and stared at his monitor. The cursor blinked at him like an accusation. He was supposed to be reviewing student papers. Instead, he pulled out his phone and stared blankly at the screen. 

Last message from Elliot: “Chasewell scheduled the planning meeting for 8:20 tomorrow. Don’t be late.” No “see you then”, no “goodnight”. Not even a damn emoji. Julian dropped the phone on the desk like it burned him and leaned back in his chair. There was a tight, heavy sensation in his chest — like he was back in college, stuck at an oral exam no one had explained the rules to.