Calamity

Chapter 21

This chapter contains sexual assault that may be triggering for some audiences. Please read with caution.

-

YALE LAW SCHOOL, NEW HAVEN - CIRCA 2014

"He is so dreamy," Makayla swooned over the lanky TA that sat at the front of the class. "I mean, gosh his eyes are just..."

"Makayla," Caitlin giggled. "You do realize he's engaged, right?"

"When will it be my turn to be happy?" Her head dropped against the desk. "Anyway, are you going to Jackson's party tonight? I hear all the boys from 3L will be there."

"My head still hurts from last weekend,"

"Excuses, excuses, excuses... It's so hard to get you out of the dorm these days,"

"Not everybody came here to party,"

Makayla clicked her pen once and then twice before smiling cheekily at Caitlin. "You have a secret play toy, don't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous,"

"It makes sense; how you never want to go out with us and the way you turn down every guy that comes your way." Makayla pinched one of her cheeks. "A beautiful girl like you should have trouble keeping that dorm room quiet,"

Caitlin threw her head back and let out a haughty laugh. "You know," she said. "I'm starting to think you have a crush on me. Maybe if you keep those compliments up and take me out to dinner—you'll have a solid chance."

"Sorry, babes, but I wish I had the money to afford the lavish dinners you treat yourself to. However, ask me again after I land a corporate law job."

"Yet here I thought we had something special,"

Makayla chuckled. "You seriously won't come out tonight?"

"Maybe another time, Kay. I have a pint of vanilla ice cream and a new season of Stranger Things waiting for me in my room."

"Party pooper," she jutted her bottom lip out in a pout. "But, since I'm such an amazing best friend, I'll let you slide this once. Next weekend you're coming out, no exceptions."

"Miss Campbell," Professor Cowell's gruff voice echoed throughout the classroom. "Would you be so kind to let us join in on your conversation?"

Makayla straightened her posture. "No, sir,"

"Great. Save it for later then. Class is dismissed but stick around, Miss Morgado. I need to speak to you about something."

The entire class broke into murmurs as Makayla gave Caitlin a sympathetic look.

"Sorry if I got you in trouble,"

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure he's just being an ass about how my paper isn't up to his standards. Again."

"Call me when you're back at the dorm?"

"Of course," Caitlin smiled. "I'll talk to you later, Kay,"

Once the lecture hall was empty, Professor Cowell rolled up his sleeves and leaned against the mahogany desk up front.

"You didn't call me last night,"

"You just embarrassed me in front of the whole class," Caitlin glared at him.

Professor Cowell's lips curled upward into a smug grin. "Why are you so on edge today, darling?"

"Because," Caitlin gripped her bag tighter. "You're going to get us caught at this rate,"

"Trust me," he pushed himself off the desk and stepped into her personal space. Glancing around the empty hall one more time, he glided his fingertips up her forearm. "We won't. Why don't we grab some coffee and then head to my office?"

-

Her love affair with Professor Cowell carried on for another month before shit began to hit the fan.

Published in the Yale Daily Newspaper was a photograph of him and another woman at the annual banquet event where he accepted an award for his outstanding work as a professor.

Normally, Caitlin would've brushed past something like this. She never considered herself a jealous person until the realization dawned on her that the woman in the photograph was his wife.

"You okay?" Makayla asked, oddly confused as to why Caitlin was so focused on reading the newspaper.

"Yeah, I just... Felt a little dizzy for a second. I swear I can't even read for my own enjoyment anymore."

"Law school will do that to ya, babes. Why don't you take a break from all the weekly readings and watch some television? You finished your essay for Cowell already, right?"

'Yes,' Caitlin thought. 'All it took was letting him hold me after sex to get an A on it,'. Suddenly feeling disgusted with herself, she swallowed the lump in her throat and put on a forced smile.

"Where would I be without you?"

"Probably in some corner sulking," Makayla responded teasingly.

"I'm going to take a quick shower before I start my movie marathon. Will you lock your door on the way out?"

"Of course,"

In the shower, Caitlin scrubbed her skin until it was red and raw—desperate to get the filth and faint memories of Professor Cowell's body on top of hers off. She should've known better.

He was a successful man who had the entire world in the palm of his hands. What would he want to do with a naive young girl like her? She valued their long conversations and all the time they spent together.

And from what he said during their throes of passion, he valued them just as much. Maybe even more than she did.

More importantly, she sought comfort because he didn't care about all the demons she brought along with her every step of the day and how powerful her father was. He saw her as her own person.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she choked back a sob, her head resting against the shower tile. God, she was a fucking fool.

-

"What are you doing here?" Professor Cowell stepped to the side and opened the door wider.

"I'm not coming in," Caitlin said firmly. "But I figured it would be easier to do this in person instead of a phone call,"

"Caitlin," Professor Cowell pulled her inside his office and locked the door behind her. "What's going on with you?"

Caitlin reached into her bag and slammed the newspaper onto his desk. "This," she pointed at the picture of him and his wife. "This is what's going on with me,"

"Can you let me explain?"

"You told me you were leaving her," she croaked. "Were you lying about that this entire time?"

"We have children together. It's not that easy."

"But isn't it? You're Simon Cowell, for fucks sake. All of this is supposed to be easy for you!"

Professor Cowell pursed his lips. "She's pregnant,"

Overcome by rage, she slapped him across his face. "Fuck you," Caitlin spat. "You were just going to string me along as some dirty mistress until you got bored, huh?"

"No—" he ran a hand over his face. "I... God, Caitlin, I love you. Not her."

"You don't love her but you knocked her up anyway. How fucking pathetic are you?"

"Stop," he pulled their bodies flushed. "Don't you feel it? Feel this?" He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "She'll never be you, darling. I swear on my life."

"Get off of me," Caitlin said weakly. "I don't want to be near you,"

"Caitlin," her name coming from his lips didn't sound the same as before. "Look at me,"

She turned her head to the side, refusing his request.

When she didn't oblige, he pressed his lips against hers and pressed her against the desk. She pounded her fists against his chest, but he was hungry—determined to get it out of his system.

That despite her protests, he took whatever he wanted anyway.