Selena froze, staring at him.
“Did you go to the apartment?” she asked.
“Yes, and the doorman told me he saw you leaving with a backpack, crying, at midnight,” he admitted.
“Then I found you at the motel, and even though I didn’t go up to your room, the receptionist told me you had borrowed scissors at three in the morning,” Carson added.
Selena lowered her gaze, not out of shame, but out of the sheer, overwhelming pain of being seen so clearly.
Carson took one step closer, his posture softening.
“I didn’t need anyone to explain the rest of it to me, and I should have been on your side much sooner, Selena,” he said with regret.
She felt her eyes welling up with tears that she refused to let fall.
“Yes, you really should have been,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with years of pent up frustration.
Carson nodded slowly, accepting the heavy truth of her words without trying to defend himself or offer a hollow excuse.
He just stood there with her, and that simple act was, in his own way, a silent form of repentance.
The room door finally opened, and they all went back inside together.
The synod took their seats with the heavy, solemn weight of a life changing moment.
Selena felt her pulse pounding in her ears as Dr. Dominic adjusted his glasses, looked at the papers on the table, and finally spoke.
“Candidate Selena Herrera has successfully defended an outstanding doctoral thesis,” he announced clearly.
“The synod’s recommendation is unanimous approval with honorable mention and immediate nomination for the faculty’s prestigious research award,” he finished.
For a second, the words didn’t even make sense, and then came the applause, which started like a distant rain and grew into a roar.
