Hello hello! How are you all doing this lovely day? Hopefully well. Hopefully you're in a good spot in terms of emotional/mental health cause this chapter is bringing the angst. Like, so much angst, y'all. Hold tight. Anyway, I also wanted to say the clonecest thing sorta weirds me out, too (not knocking it if it's anyone's thing, it's just so close to, ya know, incest, that it's hard for me). But on the other hand, I totally understand 1) most of the female characters are clones, which makes reading into subtext real effing hard, and 2) the dynamics in play are these sort of hatesex/powerplay (for Rachel and Sarah) and hurt/comfort (for Beth and Alison) sort of archetypes that we often see played out in really sexual ways. So, I get it. And I figured I'd give all you shippers of soccercop a break cause this is an AU so they're not related, and also y'all probably have to read so much cophine. Anyway, ramble ramble ramble. Get on to the story, right? Thanks for your lovely reviews, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Her phone vibrated again in the pocket of her jeans, and Cosima resigned herself to looking at it. She tugged it out with minimal hip maneuvering, holding it beneath the table so she wouldn't distract the other people sitting around her. One missed call and one text message.
Cosima, please.
The texts had gotten shorter and shorter, the first few of them asserting the sort of confidence and false humility that comes from one expecting simple forgiveness, like a Catholic at confession. They'd said things like let me explain and I miss you. And now, it was just these two words, this death rattle of a plea. At first, Cosima hadn't intended on ignoring the texts. She'd gotten one, feeling its presence dig in and sting, and she'd put it away for tomorrow—when she could give a response that wasn't reflexive, wasn't aimed to harm. She could respond later, yes, and give it thought. She could sort through this. But then the next day came, and she still didn't know what to say. Another text message came through, somewhat frantic in its tone, a hint of begging hidden in the text. It felt good to have power in this situation, to feel in control of it. To hold Delphine's heart the way she'd been holding Cosima's. With the ability to toss it aside, to give it away, to hold it close.
Maybe all the power went to her head, but when the texts kept coming and she had some time to discuss the situation with Sarah and Felix, the anger had begun to take over. As the memory of Delphine's smile—of her kiss—faded, the pain had overtaken her and all that was left was rage. She'd been used, been cast aside when it wasn't convenient for her to be decided Delphine needed to do something more to prove herself. Fixing this would take more than 'I'm sorry,' more than rushed kisses in cars like teenagers. After all, everyone in her life assured her Delphine was destruction and heartbreak. Make her prove she's not. Actions speak louder than words, she'd always believed that.
"Cos." A hand nudged at her upper arm. "Cosima."
She shot her head up, glancing around the small table at Felix, Sarah, and Helena in turn—all of them watching her expectantly—before responding. "Yeah?"
"Helena asked you a question."
"Oh. Sorry." She slipped her phone back into her pocket. "What did you say, Helena?"
"How is your schooling, druh?" Helena repeated, eyes perpetually red-rimmed and sunken, as though she hadn't slept since that day at the hospital.
"Oh. It's going well. The final showcase is soon." She shrugged. "Really not very exciting." She leaned forward, bracing her forearms against the table. "What about you? Are you liking it here? Are they nice to you?"
Helena's gaze dropped to the table, and she traced a gash in the formica with her index finger. "I do not like it, the man in the suit does not believe me."
"The man in the suit?" Sarah was leaning forward now, too, brows furrowing, anger bubbling below the surface. "Who's that, Helena?"
She glanced around, finding a man in a brown suit across the room and raising a finger to him. "He asks many questions, writes down words. Scribble scribble scribble." She pantomimed writing on a notepad. "He calls me liar."
"Psychiatrist." Cosima muttered to Sarah, who just nodded.
"I'll talk to him, see what I can do. Okay, meathead?"
Helena locked Sarah in an intense gaze, moving slightly closer. "Do not call me this. My head is not meat."
"She's got a point, you know." Felix, who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, piped up. "Meat's nowhere near sugary enough to be what her head's made of."
Sarah just rolled her eyes. "You wanna show us your room?"
Helena grinned and nodded vigorously, all of them standing and wandering off down the hall.
"There's something so creepy about this place." Felix leaned over to Cosima, speaking lowly so Sarah and Helena, walking a few paces ahead of them, wouldn't hear. "Like a hospital meets a bloody prison."
Cosima nodded. "Yeah, it's super institutional. Like, what even is that gray-blue on the walls? And the tile?"
"Can you imagine winding up in a place like this?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "I wouldn't last a day, and not because of the withdrawals."
"It would def be weird." She hesitated, watching Helena swing open the door with pride, still paying most of her attention to her sister at the expense of the other two. They'd all gotten very close, when Helena had found Sarah and practically moved in with them into where they were all squatting in Rimbaud at the time, but her twin sister was still the apple of her eye, her connection to some mythic origin of What Could Have Been. And Sarah, though she was more grounded than Helena, found herself caught up in the same eerie attachment. Helena had been so different then, when they were living at Rimbaud. A little eccentric but mostly a normal young woman. Then... "I know her drug problem's out of control, but I just can't imagine her benefiting from this. I mean, what is Helena gonna get out of group therapy? She's not like any of these people."
Felix let a long breath out through his nose, leaning his weight onto one hip. "I don't know, honestly. I can't imagine what could help her at this point."
"Are you coming in or not?" Sarah's head popped out of the doorway, one eyebrow raised in a way that suggested she needed some backup.
They didn't respond, just simultaneously lurched forward and into Helena's room.
The rest of the day was thankfully uneventful. They sat in Helena's room, they talked. She didn't like it there, that much was obvious, but she'd gotten better about loudly insulting the staff. Sarah reminded her they couldn't keep her there, but that it was a good idea for her to get clean and stay clean. Helena, ever the dutiful sister, agreed to stay. At least for another week, when they could discuss it again. It was unlike Helena to cry, but both Felix and Cosima had noticed the tears sliding silently down her cheeks as she hugged Sarah goodbye, trying to bury them in her leather jacket.
They got as far as the car before Sarah spoke, teeth clenched together tightly, one hand resting on the top of the battered truck's open door. "She's a lost cause, isn't she?" There was a beat when no one spoke. "Christ. What am I supposed to do? I already have a kid, I can't take on another one."
"We're here for you, Sarah." It was all Cosima could think to say, despite the fact that she knew neither Felix nor herself could take the burden of Kira or Helena from her shoulders. They were family, too uniquely positioned to be anyone's problem but Sarah's.
"I know." Her eyes were glistening, as she glanced between the two of them, and she swallowed, hurling her eyes quickly up at the sky. "Looks like it might rain."
Yeah. That's why you're looking up.
"So, what are you waiting for? Get your little arses in the car." Felix sassed, sliding into the backseat.
During the drive, Sarah's hand rested on the middle console, clenching and unclenching arhythmically, in time only with the beat of thoughts in her head. Cosima reached across and settled a hand over it, offering a small smile when Sarah glanced up at her. The hand on the console flipped over, letting Cosima's fingers slip in between her own and squeeze a slight pressure into her palm.
"You're awake." Delphine did her best to smile, feeling it wind tight in her cheeks. "Would you like some coffee? Maybe a glass of water?"
Alison nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you." She dropped into a seat at the kitchen table, holding her head in her hands. "We didn't—last night, I don't remember, but-" She trailed off, glancing at Delphine through the space between her fingers.
Delphine laughed, her tight smile becoming instantaneously genuine. "Non, we did not. We talked, you broke one of my picture frames, and then you fell asleep." She placed buttered toast and jam, a glass of water, and a cup of coffee in front of Alison, returning a second later with her own breakfast.
"Oh, thank all that is holy." Alison brought the glass of water to her lips, freezing suddenly. "Not that I wouldn't want to if I—I mean, I don't want to, but it's not anything against you." She pushed the toast off to the side so that she could drop her head into her folded arms on the table. "Forget it."
Delphine reached a hand out tentatively, resting it on her upper back, rubbing in tight circles, that gradually swept outward as she felt the body beneath her relax. "It's okay, Alison. I understand what you are trying to say. I am also glad we did not have sex last night."
Alison nodded against her arms, but made no move to lift her head.
"If I may, can I ask what you're going to do about your situation?"
She felt Alison stiffen under her hand, head raising slightly to look at her. "What did I tell you last night?"
"You told me a lot about... Beth?" She accentuated the name, raising her eyebrows as she did, watching carefully for a reaction.
Alison straightened further, taking a second to spread jam across her toast and return her normal poise to her face. "I don't know what I'm going to do." She admitted finally, setting the uneaten toast back down on her plate. "I don't know what the right thing is. I know what my mother would say is the right thing, and what my friends would say. But... maybe—maybe that's not what I think the right thing is."
Delphine nodded, watching her with pliant eyes, urging her on.
"Not that I don't care about Donnie, because I do. I really don't want to hurt him. Things with him just aren't as... electric as they are with Beth. Does that make sense?"
Delphine nodded again, leaning forward on her elbows. "I think that when you're with someone for long enough, you begin to build this future with them in your mind. Whether it's conscious or not, it's happening. Day by day, your brain is saying 'I can see myself buying a house with this person, having a child with them.' And it's more than just the plans the two of you make together, though that's certainly a part of it. It's also having expectations for your own future you've been forming since you were young, and beginning to see this other person fitting into that vision.
So, you realize at some point that what you're asking yourself to do is not let go of a person or a history because that—while certainly difficult—is something I think we've all done before with friendships that were unhealthy or work relationships, perhaps. What you're really letting go of is a microcosm of tiny plans, little moments where you cemented yourself to this other person for life, often without even realizing it. You're letting go of the future you had planned, and by consequence, you're letting go of your sense of control over that future. Which is a scary thought."
"Wow." Alison closed her mouth, averting her eyes back down to the table. "I didn't realize you were so thoughtful."
"Yes. Well, this particular topic is one I've been mulling for quite some time." She admitted, biting into her toast.
"I think you're right." Alison announced suddenly, very firmly, glancing up to connect her eyes with Delphine's. "I'm holding on to a—a ghost of a relationship. A mirage. It's not the todays with him I want, it's the tomorrows, but I'm not going to be any more in love with him tomorrow." She smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thank you."
"It's no problem. I'm simply happy I may be able to help you avoid making the mistakes I did."
"So, no word from Cosima, then?" Alison's hand reached out tentatively, settling on Delphine's elbow.
"No." She breathed, shaking her head slightly. "I have been trying, but... she will not answer my texts or my calls."
"I'm sorry." She squeezed the arm still resting casually beneath her hand. "Maybe she just needs a little time?"
Delphine forced herself to smile. "Yes. Maybe."
The two spent the day together, finding that they actually had quite a bit in common. It was strange, really, to have Alison show up after ending things with Donnie, wanting to talk and asking how to approach things with Beth. It was odd, to have someone who listened to her side of events with Cosima without judgment, who was not pro-Paul or pro-Cosima. It was a strange feeling but a nice one to have someone be pro-Delphine.
They walked through the street festival in their small group, Aynsley, Chad, Alison, and Delphine. The group was mostly Alison's friends from school, but Delphine was grateful for the company. Being with other people helped her feel more solid, more grounded, more like she belonged in this throng of artists and performers and tourists, looking at the arts and crafts of street vendors, and eating various fried foods from questionable-looking stands.
Alison grabbed her suddenly by the elbow, stopping her. "Oh, my gosh. There she is." She whispered harshly, reaching up instinctively to pat down her hair. "How do I look?" She glanced up at Delphine, jumpy and hovering, waiting for the okay so that she could go talk to Beth.
Delphine had followed her gaze to the small group sitting on the grass in the park, Sarah and Cal together as he strummed on his guitar and sang to her, Felix watching Beth and Art dance to music coming from a laptop plugged into a large speaker set, and Cosima on the edge of a fountain, laptop on her knees, with Scott and someone Delphine had never seen before, laughing and leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
Finally, she turned back to Alison's wide eyes, which seemed to twitch impossibly larger in her impatience. "You look great." She assured, offering as much of a smile as she could manage, despite the chill that started in her sternum and radiated out at seeing Cosima. At seeing Cosima cuddled up with someone else.
"Are you sure?" Alison was patting down her clothes now, straightening the hems of her shirt and her skirt.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay. Come on." Alison grabbed Delphine's hand, tugging her toward the park.
"Oh. No. I couldn't." Delphine insisted, keeping her feet rooted tightly to the spot.
Alison whirled around, mouth gaping open. "You have to come, though! Please."
Delphine waved a hand. "No, Cosima would not want me there."
"Well, they're my friends, too, and I want you there. Besides, Aynsley and Chad will be there." She tugged on her hand again. "Come on."
Delphine could put up a fight. She could continue to struggle against Alison, continue to insist. But if she'd learned anything from spending time with her the last few days, it was that Alison was far more stubborn than she seemed, and it would take considerably less time and energy to simply do as she asked than it would to argue endlessly with her about it. So she moved forward, unsteadily, following her friends, lagging a shy pace behind.
"Hey!" Beth was the first to notice them coming, and she turned from where she'd been watching Art so she could hug Alison.
"Hi, Beth." Delphine noticed the faint color in Alison's cheeks as she greeted Beth, the way she made eye contact yet still ducked her head just a little. It was nice, somehow, to see the two dance around one another, trade unsure smiles and eye contact that breathed, had a life all its own. It was nice to think that Alison could have what Delphine had with Cosima—vitality that gaped, electric and manic, that pulled at the rubber band of time until it had to snap. She could have someone who made every second mean something. "These are my friends. Delphine, Aynsley, and Chad."
Beth smiled, shaking everyone's hands, eyes lingering on Delphine for just a beat longer, smile fading softly into creased lines as she glanced between her and Cosima, still distracted by the computer and her friends, then moving onto the rest of them.
Chad grinned, smacking Beth's ass. "You look good out there, kid."
"What the fuck!" Suddenly, Beth sent Chad stumbling back a foot with a hard shove.
"Hey! What was that for?"
"You smacked my ass, you douchebag!" She took a step forward, staying in his face, not backing down and wanting him to know.
"Look, it was just a joke." He was still grinning, the sort of smile that comes when you're used to getting your way. "You can't take it, that's fine. But I'm not getting roped into hitting a girl."
"I told you nobody thinks that's funny, Chad." Aynsley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
Beth cocked her elbow back, ready to strike, and Delphine and Alison jumped forward simultaneously, Alison grabbing Beth by the bicep and Delphine stepping in between them, facing Chad.
"Apologize." She snapped, settling into the persona her father had helped her develop, for dealing with people he considered less important than them. She hated using it, had always despised the way he'd treated other people, but found it felt more natural than she'd ever admit.
"For what?" He scoffed. "She's the one that hit me."
"Chad, it was inappropriate, and you know it. Now apologize." There must have been something in her that reminded him of his mother, or maybe an aunt or teacher, someone who'd inspired the sort of crushing shame one feels as a child when one doesn't live up to expectations, because he raised his hands, palms out.
"Okay, okay. Relax. I'm sorry."
The rest of the group, attracted by the commotion, came tearing into the small crowd that had begun to form.
"What the hell did you do?" Cosima snapped, but it wasn't until her hand grabbed Delphine's elbow, dragging her so she'd turn and face her, that Delphine realized the question was directed at her.
"I—Nothing, Cosima."
"Bullshit." Cosima snapped back, something stone and harsh about her, when usually she was liquid and light.
"She didn't do anything." Beth stepped forward, glancing between the two of them. "It was that asshole, she was just trying to help, Cos."
"What are you even doing here?" Beth's intervention didn't stop her, didn't even divert her gaze from Delphine's. "Nobody wants you here."
"I do." Alison was by her side now, putting her arm around Delphine's waist. "She's my friend."
"Since when?" Cosima's nostrils were flaring, and she flickered her eyes over to Alison's. "What, did you start a cheating wives' club or something? Experimenting straight girls anonymous?"
"Hey, back off." Beth stepped forward, grabbing Cosima's arm.
She tugged it away harshly. "Don't. Touch me." Her voice was low, warning, a nip or growl from a rabid dog.
"Okay, fine. Just—look, you're being a little cruel, Cosima."
"I'm being cruel?" She snorted, turning her attention back to Delphine. "Am I the one who kissed Delphine, then told her it was out of pity? Am I the one who showed up time and time again, to kiss her and tell her how much I want and care about her, just to go back to my stupid, boring straight boyfriend? Am I the one who neglected to tell her that I was fucking some creepy old capitalist dickwad? I don't think so, Beth. She used me, played with my emotions, led me on, just to dump me when it wasn't easy anymore, when I stood up to her. She pretended to care about me, but clearly-" By now, tears were poised on the wells of her eyelids, and she had to look up, to the side, flare her nostrils, to try to keep them from falling. "Clearly she didn't ever give a shit about me. So, no. I don't think I'm the one being cruel here." She turned, wiping at her eyes as she began to move on trembling legs back to the where she'd been sitting earlier.
"No. No, Cosima. Wait." Delphine grabbed her wrist, losing the grip instantly when Cosima spun around, holding her hands up, eyes an icy, liquid burn.
"Don't."
Delphine dropped her hand back to her side. "Just, let me tell you one thing." She was leaned forward slightly, resisting the urge to touch her, to move closer so she could read Cosima's eyes more clearly. "You can call me whatever names you want, I deserve it. But don't ever say that I didn't care about you. I made many mistakes, but the worst of them was caring about you more than I should have."
Cosima scoffed and rolled her eyes to the side, grinding her jaw tight together, making the muscles at the base twitch and pulse.
"I couldn't let you go, even though I had someone I cared for, even though I knew it would complicate everything for me, I was drawn to you. I didn't want to fall for you, Cosima, but I did. I have. So completely." She breathed. "Please, if you don't believe anything else I've said, even if you never want to see me again, know that."
Cosima glanced back at her, at her eyes, grown glassy and large, at her lip tucked between her teeth, at the flared nostrils and the palms that sat up, facing her, as though they were waiting for hers. She looked at these things, and felt the power rise back up, felt like a hunter who had fallen a deer but not killed it, and now held the rifle to its temple, waiting to finish it. She's hurting. Good.
"Yeah. You just don't care enough about me to stop fucking your way to the top. Stop groveling, you spend enough time on your knees with Leekie."
Delphine exhaled, glancing down at her hands, feeling surprisingly calm despite the storm brewing in the depths of her chest. She smiled, one that reached only the very corners of her lips and convinced no one. "Okay." She turned, not saying anything more, and disappeared into the crowd in a few long strides.
"What the flip was that, Cosima?" Alison turned on her, waving her left hand in the air, letting the other rest on her hip. "She doesn't deserve to be publicly shamed. I'm sorry she hurt you, but you're acting like a—a—a child!" She turned, and stormed off, Beth jogging off behind her.
And somewhere, where the part of her that loved, that was the gentle, slow-to-anger and ready to forgive Cosima resided, pounding perhaps in the left atrium, bustling around with the oxygenated blood ready to bring life to her body; that part sighed with a maternal displeasure.
"Do you think I was too harsh on Delphine today?" Cosima was looking out the window of her apartment, glass of wine untouched in her hand. Delphine's utter surrender paired with Alison's ire had unsettled her usual self-righteousness.
Sarah glanced up from where she was editing photos on her computer—her side business as a band photographer was picking up fast. "I don't know, Cos. What do you think?"
"I think it felt fucking great to say those things." She began, looking down into her wine, the deep burgundy somehow calming her nerves. "But when I think of her face after, when she walked away... How hurt she looked." She turned to face Sarah completely. "I liked it in the moment, but now..."
Sarah waited a second, to see if she'd finish what she was saying. Speechlessness was not something Sarah was familiar with when it came to Cosima. "You gonna finish one of those sentences?"
Cosima shut her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "I don't know what to say."
"I think you're hurt, and you lashed out so that she'd hurt, too." Sarah stood, walking over to wrap her arms around Cosima's waist and rest her head on her shoulder. "But I also know you care about her. So, while hurting her was fun for a minute, now you just feel like an asshole."
"Thanks for the analysis, Sigmund. But that's not really all that helpful."
Sarah shrugged, pulling away from her. "What you do next is sorta up to you. I can't tell you what to do or how to feel."
"She said she fell for me." She brought her free hand to her temple, rubbing at it slowly. "But how is that possible? I mean, she has two other lovers she's still with. She says all these things, but she doesn't mean them. It's not fair."
"Alison says she and Paul broke it off." Sarah had settled back on the couch, and patted the cushion next to her.
Cosima followed, dropping down and placing the wine glass on the coffee table. "What?"
"Yeah, apparently she broke up with Paul right after Leekie left town."
"Christ." Cosima rubbed at her forehead. "I don't know, Sarah. Why isn't this easier?"
Sarah snorted. "You still expect things to be easy? After all these years?"
She dropped back, deep into the fluffy cushions. "No, I guess not."
"Knock knock." Cosima stepped through the door, tilting her head to try to catch Siobhan's attention.
"Cosima." Mrs. S glanced up from the papers in her hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I, uh," she stepped further into the room, resting her hands on the back of the chair across the desk from Siobhan, "was wondering if you had a minute to talk."
"Actually, I'm quite busy at the moment, it's the end of the school year." She responded, warm smile still on her face.
"Please, Mrs. S."
Siobhan settled the papers onto her desk and took off her reading glasses, motioning to the chair which Cosima settled on the edge of, fiddling with her hands in her lap. "What would you like to talk about?"
"Delphine." Cosima caught Mrs. S's glance, holding it. "I need to know why you told me to stay away from her."
She sighed, leaning back into the plush leather chair and folding her hands in her lap. "I just don't want to see you hurt, love."
"Well, I am. I am hurt." Cosima's voice was flat and harsh, and she moved her hands from her lap to the desk. "And I don't know what to do now. Please, Mrs. S."
Siobhan watched this woman, who had become like a daughter to her. They all had become like her children, Sarah and Felix and Cosima, and they all needed protection in their own ways. Sarah needed protection from herself, from her tendency to shove people away as violently as she could, to keep herself at a distance even when it caused her undue pain. She needed help letting people in, letting people love her for who she was. Felix needed to be protected from Sarah, most of the time, but also from his desire to help. He was an enabler, a pushover for those he cared about. He never could tell who was worth his time and effort and who wasn't. He didn't value himself enough as a person, didn't value his usefulness beyond how attractive or fun or witty he was.
And then there was Cosima. Cosima, who managed to remain naïve after years of suffering and trickery, who still trusted too quickly and too easily, who still fell for a pretty smile and intelligent conversation. She forgave too easily, she followed her heart too readily. She loved brashly, not willing to see the bad things. Paired with a somewhat explosive, cutting temper and possibly a touch too much insight and intellect, her romantic entanglements often ended in hours of tears on the couch, endless screaming matches, bottles of wine and joints.
But, she'd come for advice and that was something, right? A step in the right direction, perhaps?
"Like I said, Cosima. I've known Delphine since she was a little girl. But she's acted like an adult for as long as I can remember. She knows how to play the game, and she does it."
"Alison said she broke up with Paul, though." Cosima pushed herself closer to the edge of the chair, eyes bright with hope and wariness. "I mean, why would she do that if she didn't care?"
"I never said she doesn't care about you, chicken." Siobhan leaned forward as well, placing a hand on the back of Cosima's. "I just said she's highly driven. I suggest you don't stand in her way, because I've never seen her take her foot off the gas pedal for anyone before."
Cosima licked her lips, glancing down at the hand atop her own. "She's sleeping with Leekie."
"You know about that, do you?" Mrs. S's gaze was scrutinizing again, taking in every detail of Cosima's body language, trying to gauge the direction this conversation would take.
"I found out the day of the lecture." Cosima didn't usually mumble, preferring to speak only when she could put great power and intention behind her words, but these came out in a tangled mess. "It's what we were talking about when you and Kira showed up."
"Yes. Well," she stroked the back of Cosima's hand with her thumb, "that's a part of what I was trying to warn you about."
"The thing is, I don't know if it's about power or pleasure." She shook her head. "I don't know which one would be worse. And that makes me feel like such a hypocrite, because everyone I know has had sex for reasons other than love before. I mean, I'm certainly not innocent."
"If it bothers you, it bothers you." Siobhan responded. "If you're jealous now, I don't see why that would go away."
"You don't think she'd stop if I asked her to?"
Mrs. S retracted her hand, placing it back on the arm rest, smiling with restrained pity. "No, love, I don't. They've been doing this for a decade, I don't see why they'd stop now."
"A decade?" Cosima's brow twisted, and nostrils flared. "But she can't be that much older than me. She's, like, what? Twenty-eight?"
"Sounds about right." Siobhan confirmed, nodding slowly.
"He started sleeping with her when she was eighteen?" Cosima's mind felt crowded suddenly, a thousand thoughts screaming through her brain with such deafening noise she couldn't make out any of them in detail.
"When she went to America for her undergraduate degree, yes."
"That's disgusting." She snapped suddenly. "He was in his fifties and sleeping with an eighteen year old? How did he get away with that?"
"Like it or not, that's the way of the world, Cosima."
She nodded slowly, standing and grabbing her bag off the floor where she'd dropped it. "Thanks, S." She stumbled slightly, tripping up on the chair leg and barely noticing as she droned out the door.
"Anytime, love."