Page 23 of My Defiant Mate
Henderson's thin lips curl into what might generously be called a smile. It doesn't reach his cold, pale eyes. "I won't waste your time or mine. I've received some... concerning information about your conduct as an RA."
This is it. He knows.
"Sir?" I keep my face a neutral mask. Give nothing away. Don't let him see the terror.
He slides a printed email across the desk. "I received this from a concerned student yesterday evening. They witnessed you entering Mr. Alarie's room yesterday evening. They report that the door never opened again until this morning, and when you both emerged, you were..." he pauses, letting the word hang in the air, savoring the moment, "...a mess."
Heat rushes into my face, a hot tide of shame. I say nothing. My silence is its own confession.
"I might have dismissed this as hearsay," Henderson continues, his voice dripping with false reasonableness, "if not for this."
He pulls out another sheet of paper. This one has grainy black and white images printed on it. Security camera footage. The air in my lungs turns to stone. The sound in the room fades to a low buzz, like a dying fluorescent light. My vision narrows until the only thing I can see is the grainy image on the page. It's the hallway outside Jionni's room. The timestamp shows 11:42 PM. There I am, a ghost in the dim light, clearly entering his room.
He slides another page across the desk. The next image shows me leaving at 7:16 AM. Wearing his clothes.
"Leaving at 7:16 AM, Mr. Song-Gi," Henderson says, his voice laced with a sneer. "In Mr. Alarie's... clothes. Not a very professional look, is it?"
I feel sick. Exposed. Like my skin has been peeled away, leaving every nerve raw and screaming.
"I..." My voice fails me. What can I possibly say? The evidence is absolute.
Henderson's expression is one of calculated disappointment, but I can see the victory glinting underneath. He's enjoying this. He's been waiting for this moment since the day he met me.
"Mr. Song-Gi, I hardly need to remind you of section 4.3 of the Resident Advisor handbook. 'RAs shall maintain professional boundaries with all residents in their assigned building at all times.' Professional boundaries," he repeats, savoring the words like a fine wine. "Not romantic entanglements. Certainly not sexual relationships."
Every word hits me like a fist.Termination. Loss of scholarship. Professional misconduct.
"This is a serious violation of your contract," Henderson continues, leaning forward, his hands flat on the desk. "Grounds for immediate termination."
Termination.The word echoes in the buzzing silence of my head. No more job. No more free housing. No more scholarship stipend. No more Westbridge. No more future.
"However," Henderson says, and a sliver of desperate, foolish hope cuts through the panic. "I am willing to offer you an alternative."
I look up, hardly daring to breathe. "Sir?"
"Option one." He holds up a bony finger. "You immediately terminate your... inappropriate relationship with Mr. Alarie. You submit a formal letter of apology acknowledging your lapsein judgment, and you agree to weekly performance reviews with me for the remainder of the semester."
Every cell in my body rebels at the thought. But my logical brain, the part of me that has guided my entire life, seizes on the lifeline. A way out. A way to keep my job, my scholarship, my future. A way to not destroy my family.
"Option two," Henderson continues, holding up a second finger. "You are terminated from the Resident Advisor program, effective immediately. This will, of course, mean the loss of your housing scholarship and stipend. Additionally, a formal notation of professional misconduct will be added to your permanent academic record."
He pauses, letting the implications sink in like stones. "Which, I hardly need to point out, will be visible to any reputable law school you might apply to."
I feel dizzy, the gray walls of his office tilting around me. He knows. He knows everything. My career plans. My dreams. And he was tearing my future apart, piece by piece.
"I..." My voice cracks. I clear my throat, forcing the words out. "I need time to think."
"Of course," Henderson says magnanimously, the smile back on his face. It's the smile of a predator that has its prey cornered. "You have until the end of the day to decide. I'll expect your answer by 5 PM."
He sits down then, a clear dismissal. "That will be all, Mr. Song-Gi."
I turn and walk out, my legs moving on autopilot. I don't remember leaving the building. I don't remember crossing the quad, the sun feeling too bright on my face. Somehow, I find myself back at my dorm, standing in front of my door, my key shaking in my hand.
I step inside and close the door behind me. My room. My perfect, orderly room. Everything in its place. Everything except me.
I sink onto my bed, staring at nothing. The choice he gave me isn't a choice at all. It's a gun to my head.
Option one: Reject my mate. Deny the bond. Pretend the most intense, real thing I've ever felt doesn't exist. My chest constricts painfully at the thought, a physical ache so sharp it makes me gasp. But I would keep my job. My scholarship. My future.
