"Thank you for your attention." Sylvia exhaled a long breath while she arranged the papers in front of her into a neat stack.

I did it. One hundred and fifty students, and they all listened to me. Sixty minutes about the Flemish Masters from the late 15th century.

She nearly burst with pride and couldn't wait to tell Edgar all about it. He'd painted all sorts of horrible images about having to face a large crowd of students for the very first time, and hadn't been stingy with mortifying anecdotes from his early days as lecturer.

As if he'd had decades of experience.

He was only six years her senior and not a retired university professor with an endless list of accolades. His jokes were harmless, but his patronizing attitude sometimes annoyed her. As if her job as assistant professor of art history was worth less than his position as university professor at the institute of business law. Money wasn't more important than art, even though she had to admit that her every day life often proved her wrong.

She swept her glance over the auditorium as the level of noise gradually rose. "Just a quick reminder to the students of my introductory seminar that your essays are due by the end of next week."

A few guilty faces turned towards her.

That's what I thought. There's always a bunch who have forgotten about the due date.

She threw a meaningful glance towards Philipp and Amelie, who suddenly delved into an animated conversation.

As soon as she had left the auditorium, she pulled out her phone and texted Edgar. Calling wasn't an option, as he would be moving back and forth between lectures and seminars until late afternoon.

Nailed it, xoxo

Sylvia herself had a fully packed schedule, including a meeting about bursaries. Then she had to take care of a group of students from abroad, who were spending the semester at the university. Originally, this task had been appointed to Martin, her colleague, but he'd gotten sick, so she had to jump in. All this meant that her lunch would fall through, and she'd have to make due with a cold chicken wrap and a smoothie from the supermarket across the street. Possibly adding to the mix a few coffees from the university's coffee vending machine, even though these didn't get anywhere close to the way Edgar prepared cappuccino with excellent crema.

Her movie night with Caro was the light at the end of today's rather dull tunnel. They were planning to go to the new pizzeria downtown, which, according to Caro, served a supreme/delicious/spectacular lasagne al forno.

Come on, don't think about lasagne now, or you'll never make it through the day. Concentrate on your work. Edgar wouldn't allow himself to get distracted by an empty belly.

She pulled her mouth into a lopsided grin while she strode through back to her office through the corridor.

Maybe not by an empty belly, but a pair of nicely shaped boobs attached to a pair of equally nicely shaped legs definitely would do the trick.

With a slightly soured mood, she entered the office she shared with Martin. Maybe it wasn't so bad he was sick today, that way she could work in peace and didn't have to listen to Martin's complaints about the supposedly pungent smell of her wraps. She'd been this close to remind him that using a deodorant should be considered an act of basic human decency. Going "au naturel" in a tiny shared office wasn't really what she deemed considerate.

When she had dropped her bag under her desk, her phone vibrated.

Well done, princess

She smiled to herself, and then another message came in.

Remember, no flirting around tonight

The smile froze on her face, and she dumped her phone inside her bag without bothering to type an answer. She opened her laptop and started working, but her focus was off.

Jealous control freak. Just for once, I want to go out with my friend, and all he's worried about is that some guy is going to stare at me for longer than five seconds.

Despite her anger, she managed to advance a few more pages on the bibliography of her paper about the altar of Gent. At exactly five minutes to twelve, she closed her laptop and grabbed her papers for the meeting. If she was quick, she could make a detour to the coffee vending machine. Those meetings were usually boring as hell, so she would need some caffeine to make sure she didn't doze off right in the middle of it. She reached for her bag, when there was a knock at the door.

Great, if those are the exchange students, they're two hours early.

She shrugged.

Maybe they got jet lag?

She put on a smile and said, "Come in."

The door opened just a bit, and then the curly redhead of Amelie showed up in the crack.

"Erm, sorry to bother you, professor, but I have a question about the essay." She kept her body outside the door, as if she was somehow afraid of getting too close to Sylvia.

"I would ask you to come in, Ms. Walker, but I'm afraid there's a meeting I need to attend." She held up her papers and pointed at the open bag on her table. "But if what you want to discuss doesn't take too long, then I suggest we can walk together towards the library, and you can tell me what's on your mind."

It felt strange to her ears being addressed as professor by someone who was only a few years younger than her, but she had established the rule that keeping it formal between teacher and student was a good way to go about strengthening her authority as a young assistant professor. It was not just because Edgar had suggested it to her.

"Yeah, thank you. It won't take too long." Amelie backed away from the door and Sylvia pulled it open to step out of her office, her messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She graced Amelie with a small smile that turned her face a shade of red that was close to the bright red of her hair.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Sylvia said with an encouraging smile. Amelie had always been timid, but today it appeared even more so, as the girl scuttled along beside her, her patent-leather shoes echoing loudly beside Sylvia's silent trainers. Her short plaited skirt and the skin-tight black top were probably two of the reasons Philip couldn't take his eyes off her during the lecture.

"I...I just wanted to say that..." Amelie stammered, while staring at the shiny tips of her shoes.

What in all the world is the matter with this girl?

Sylvia threw her an assessing glance, but Amelie still didn't look at her. "If you're having difficulties completing your essay by the end of next week, I suggest you ask for help. That's always a good idea. I'm pretty sure there's someone who'd be willing to help."

Philip for example. The way he stared at you during the lecture, I wouldn't be surprised if he volunteered.

"Okay, then...that's what I'll do. I just don't want you to be disappointed if my essay isn't as good as you expected it to be, professor."

"Of course not. Don't worry so much about it. This is an introductory seminar, and you're not expected to deliver a doctoral thesis. It's more about learning how to work efficiently and how to organize yourself. A lot of it is actually just trial and error, and it's no shame to ask for help, either."

They were now standing in front of the entrance to the library, right beside the coffee vending machine. Sylvia rummaged in her bag, searching for some coins, while she motioned with her chin towards the library door. "The library would be a good start, working through the literature, something that helps you build a good base for your essay."

"Thank you, that's what I'll do." Amelie smiled briefly and for a moment Sylvia had the impression that there was something else she had wanted to say, but then the glass doors of the library opened and a group of students poured out. When they had passed on, chattering loudly as they walked, Amelie had left already and all Sylvia saw was her back as she entered the library.

The first step is always the hardest, especially when one is as distracted as those two.

Sylvia grinned to herself while she fed the vending machine with coin after coin. It hadn't been much different when she and Edgar had started dating. She hadn't been able to take her eyes off him, and he hadn't been able to keep his hands off her. When she pressed the button for latte macchiato, her bag suddenly started playing Super Trouper.

Not Edgar then, but Caro. This ringtone was the one she'd reserved for her best friend, after they'd spent one night karaoke-ing their lungs out with Abba songs until their throats had been sore.

Those were the good times.

Sylvia sighed. Suddenly a wave of nostalgia overcame her, and she remembered with fondness the times she could simply go out whenever she wanted and didn't need to have everything approved by Edgar.

The clattering and gurgling of the vending machine catapulted her back into the present. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. If Caro was calling, it had to be urgent.

"Hi Caro, what's up?" she said, while straining to extract the hot paper cup from the vending machine's claws. When there was only a soft sniffing coming from the other side of the line, a bad feeling settled inside Sylvia's stomach.

"Syl, I'm sorry...and please don't be angry with me, but I have to cancel for tonight."

"Oh," was the only word Sylvia's mouth could form. "Did something happen? Are you sick?" There had to be a solid reason for Caro to cancel, because she knew that her friend had been as excited as her for this date. They'd been pushing it around for months now. First, Caro's mother had been sick, and then both of them had been buried under loads of work.

Oh God, no!

A cold shiver ran down her spine. 

"Is something wrong with your Mum?"

"She...had a relapse." Caro sniffled again. "Everything looked good on her last checkup, and the doctors were really happy with her progress. You know how well she had responded to the chemo...and now...now—" Caro broke off, her voice shaky. It sounded like she was trying to hold back tears. "Oh, Syl, I'm so worried about her."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Are the doctors sure? Did you get a second opinion? Does she have to go back to the hospital? Can you accompany her?" The questions shot through Sylvia's head like bullets.

"I don't know. I've just been on the phone with her, and she's trying to downplay everything, because she doesn't want me to worry. But she knows that's not going to work, because I will worry. She's my mum, after all." There was a pause during which she could hear Caro blowing her nose. "I wanted to go to her tonight and at least stay the night. Dad's a mess, too, and Nina's too far away to be able to just come over for one night."

"Of course you have to go and be with her. We can always do our thing some other time. Your mum is more important right now."

"You're sure you're not upset? I know you've been really looking forward to this."

"No, of course not. Family is always first. We'll find a moment that's good for both of us."

"Okay then. You know that I really wanted to get together with you. We haven't seen each other in ages."

"We'll see each other again, don't worry. There's enough time."

Time your mum might not have.

This she didn't say, because she didn't want to worry Caro even more. Her mother had defeated cancer already once. She could do it again.

"Yeah, you're right." She could hear that Caro was drawing a deep breath.

"Call me as soon as you know more."

"Yes, I will."

"Your mum is a strong woman. She's got this."

"I hope so."

When Caro had hung up, Sylvia stood in front of the vending machine, the paper cup with scalding hot coffee in one hand and the papers for her meeting in the other.

Why is life so fucking unfair?

She had half a mind to shoot a very nasty complaint skywards to whichever gods sat up there. They clearly didn't give a shit about humans and their suffering.