"We'll hire a moving company."

"They'll mix them up and it will take weeks to put them back in order."

"We'll hire special movers-movers accustomed to moving libraries. They'll take your books off the shelf, pack them in order, and replace them on your shelves here in Cambridge exactly the way they were in Toronto. You wouldn't have to do a thing."

"Moving companies don't know how to catalogue books," she scoffed. "What if they mis-shelve something? I have thousands of volumes in my library, and I might never be able to find what they misplace. And what if they lose something? Some of those books are irreplaceable!"

"Professor Picton, if you would accept the endowed chair, I'll come to Toronto and move your books personally."

Katherine paused for a moment until she realized that Greg was serious. Then she burst into peals of laughter.

"Harvard sounds very accommodating."

"You have no idea," he muttered, hoping that she would change her mind.

"I'm not interested. There are lots of younger persons you should be considering instead of a sixty-eight-year-old retiree. While we're on the subject of your department, I want to talk to you about my graduate student, Julianne Mitch.e.l.l, and why I think you need to admit her to your doctoral program."

Katherine spent ten minutes telling Greg why it had been a mistake for him to fail to offer Julianne adequate funding the previous year. Then Professor Picton impressed upon him the need for Julianne to receive a lucrative fellowship beginning in September. Finally, when she finished scolding him and effectively telling him how to do the job of the Director of Graduate Studies (which was not, in fact, his job), she promptly hung up.

Greg stared at the phone in his hand with a look of incredulity.

During the last week of January, Julia was weightless, floating and happy, the skin on her neck now perfect through medical technology. Her scar removal was healed, and no one would ever know that she'd been marked. Therapy was going well and so was her relationship with Gabriel, although on occasion he seemed distracted and she would have to call his name to bring him back to her.

She'd just finished an amiable coffee with Paul, during which they discussed Christa's recent inexplicable good mood and was on her way to the library when she received a telephone call that would change her life. Greg Matthews offered her early acceptance into the doctoral program in Romance Languages and Literatures at Harvard, on a very generous fellowship, for the fall semester.

The acceptance was conditional on the satisfactory completion of her MA at the University of Toronto, but as Professor Matthews pointed out, given her letters of recommendation and the glowing endors.e.m.e.nt offered by Professor Picton, Julia should have no problem completing her degree. Professor Matthews was eager to hear Julia's acquiescence to the offer, but he knew that most graduate students would need a little time to think about it, and so he asked her to telephone him with her decision in seven days.

Julia was surprised at how calm and professional she sounded on the phone. Of course, she wasn't doing much talking. After the call ended, she texted Gabriel with trembling, nervous fingers.

Harvard just called-they want me.

Conditional on my MA. Love, J.

A few minutes later, she received a reply.

Congratulations, darling. In a meeting.

My place-one hour? G.

Julia smiled at her iPhone and quickly completed her library errands before walking to the Manulife Building. She was excited but worried. On the one hand, her admission to Harvard was the culmination of her dreams and hard work. On the other, Harvard represented separation from Gabriel.

Bolstered by Doctor Nicole's encouragement to be kind to herself, Julia decided to have a hot shower in order to allow herself a few minutes to think. She left a note on the hall table where Gabriel always dropped his keys and proceeded to make herself at home in his s.p.a.cious bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she was half-asleep under the tropical rain showerhead.

"This is a welcome sight," Gabriel whispered, opening the door to the shower. "A warm, wet, and naked Julianne."

"There's room for a warm, wet, and naked Gabriel too," she said, grasping his hand.

He smiled. "Not right now. We should celebrate. Where would you like to go to dinner?"

There was a time when Julia would simply have accepted Gabriel's suggestion because she wanted to make him happy. But on this occasion, she spoke up. "Can we just stay in? I don't want to be around a lot of people."

"Of course. Let me change and I'll be right back."

By the time Gabriel returned, Julia was standing in the center of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

He handed her a flute of champagne and they clinked their gla.s.ses together.

"I have something to give to you," he said, disappearing into the bedroom. He returned a moment later with something crimson in his hands. He held it up so she could read the lettering on the front.

"This was mine. I'd like you to have it." He took her gla.s.s and placed it next to his on the vanity, then tugged at her towel until it dropped to the floor.

Julia pulled the hooded Harvard sweatshirt over her head, standing like a nearly naked sorority girl who had just rolled out of bed with her boyfriend.

"Gorgeous," he whispered, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her enthusiastically. "This is quite an accomplishment, and I know that you've worked very hard for it. I'm proud of you."

Julia grew a little teary at his praise, for apart from Grace, no one had ever expressed pride in her or her accomplishments. "Thank you. Are you sure you want to part with your sweatshirt?"

"Of course, my smart, smart girl."

"I haven't decided if I'm accepting their offer or not."

"What?" He pulled away, and his expression morphed into a scowl.

"I just received the call today. I have a week to decide."

"What's to decide? You'd be crazy not to accept it!"

She fidgeted with her hands. She thought that Gabriel would be saddened at the idea of their separation. She hadn't thought that he would be so enthusiastic.

He paced back and forth. "Didn't they offer you enough money? Because you know I'll cover the cost. I'll buy you an apartment near Harvard Square, for G.o.d's sake."

"I don't want to be kept."

"What are you talking about?" He turned his head, peering over at her sharply.

Julia squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I want to pay my own way."

Gabriel groaned in frustration and cupped her face in his hands. "Julianne, we will never be equals. You are my better."

He stared at her, his sincerity bringing a particular light to his blue eyes, and he kissed her, before pulling her into his chest. "I have more vices and more money. I refuse to share my vices, but my money is yours. Take it."

"I don't want it."

"Then let me help you secure a loan. Please don't turn down this opportunity. Please. You've worked so hard for it."

"Money isn't the issue. Greg Matthews offered me a very generous fellowship, which will be more than enough to cover my expenses."

She grasped the hem of her sweatshirt, tugging it to cover more of her naked body. "I'm worried about what will happen to us if I go."

"Do you want to go?"

"Yes. But I don't want to lose you."

"Why would you lose me?"

She buried her face in his chest. "Long distance relationships are difficult. You're very handsome. Lots of women will try to take my place."

He scowled. "I'm not interested in lots of women. I'm interested in you. I've applied for a sabbatical. If that doesn't work, I could take a leave of absence. It wouldn't hurt for me to spend a year at Harvard finishing my book. We can go together, and that will buy me some time to figure out what I should do."

"I can't let you do that. Your career is here."

"Academics take sabbaticals all the time. Ask Katherine."

"What if you resent me?" she asked.

"It's far more likely that you'll resent me-being tied to an older man when you should be dating men your own age. And an older man who is a selfish know-it-all and can't stop bossing you around."

Julia rolled her eyes. "The man I love is not the person you described. Not anymore. Besides, there's only a ten-year age difference between us."

He grinned wryly. "Thank you. We don't have to live together if you don't want to. I'll be your neighbor. Of course, if you don't want me to go..." He swallowed and waited for her response.

Julia threw her arms around his neck. "Of course I want you to come with me."

"Good," he whispered, pulling her into the bedroom.

After Julia returned to her apartment the following day, Gabriel spent the afternoon working in his home office. He was about to telephone her to ask if she wanted to meet for dinner when his cell phone rang. Realizing that it was Paulina, he refused to answer it.

A few minutes later his home telephone rang, its unique ring indicating that the call was coming from the security guard downstairs. He picked up the phone.

"Yes?"

"Professor Emerson, there is a woman here who says that she needs to see you."

"Her name?"

"Paulina Gruscheva."

Gabriel cursed. "Tell her to go away."

The security guard lowered his voice. "Of course, Professor. But you should know that she seems upset. And she's using your name rather loudly."

"Fine," he spat. "Tell her I'll be right there."

Gabriel grabbed his keys and strode out of the apartment heading toward the elevator, cursing.

Chapter 17.

With the relief that an early acceptance to Harvard brought, Julia was able to redouble her efforts on her thesis. When she and Gabriel were apart, she worked tirelessly, spending hours upon hours in the library or at her apartment writing.

As a reward, Gabriel decided to whisk her away to Belize for Valentine's weekend. It was a celebration of love, Julia's acceptance to Harvard, and other things that Gabriel was not yet ready to share.

On the day of their departure, Julia stood on the front porch of her building, checking her mailbox. She found a letter from Harvard, which she opened immediately. It was a formal offer of admission to the doctoral program, and it included the terms of her conditional acceptance and her fellowship.

She also found a business sized envelope with the University of Toronto insignia on it. The words Office of the Dean of Graduate Studies were printed above the return address. She quickly ripped open the envelope and read its contents. Then she dragged her luggage to Bloor Street, flagging a cab to Gabriel's condominium.

She flew into the lobby, past the security guards, and into the elevator that would take her to his floor. Tripping down the hall, she let herself in with her key.

"Darling?" Gabriel walked to the front door with a smile. "You're early. I'm flattered that you couldn't stay away from me."

She batted away his outstretched arms and shoved one of the letters into his hand.

"What's this?"

He glanced down at the letter.

February 5, 2010 Office of the Dean of Graduate Studies University of Toronto Toronto, Canada Dear Miss Julianne Mitch.e.l.l, A complaint has been filed in our office alleging that you have violated the University of Toronto's Code of Behaviour on Academic Matters. In conjunction with this complaint, you are requested to appear in person at the Dean's office on February 19, 2010, for a preliminary interview. The Chair of Italian Studies, Professor Jeremy Martin, will also be in attendance.

You may bring an individual with you to this meeting. This individual may be a representative of the Graduate Student a.s.sociation, a family member or friend, or an attorney.

This meeting is for information purposes only and does not const.i.tute a hearing, nor has the Dean's office taken any position on the legitimacy of the complaint.