Chapter song: Fallen by Sarah McLachlan
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He sits in his tiny office so lost in thought that he doesn't even hear her come in.
"Hey… You look tired."
Startled, he looks up and clears his throat, "I am."
She touches his arm. He flinches.
Confused by his reaction, she slowly removes her hand from his arm and says, "So, uh, we haven't been able to talk much since the summer classes started…I figured if you're free right now, we could go get some lunch…"
He puts his head back into his hands. He's tired. He wishes he didn't have to do this, and not because he wishes he could be with her.
He should have never been with her in the first place.
"I can't do this anymore- we can't do this anymore," he says in a strained voice just above a whisper.
Silence. He looks up at her.
"You're not just talking about lunch, are you," she states quietly.
He shakes his head and says, "I love my wife…"
Looking down again, he fists his hands in his hair, trying to think of how it ever came to this. In a quiet but forceful tone, he adds, "She doesn't deserve any of this."
She takes a deep breath, trying to come up with something to say without sounding like a petulant child.
It doesn't seem to be working.
"You've never…. You don't even," frustrated to come up with the right words, she finally says, "I didn't even realize you still loved your wife….. You know, you have a real funny way of showing it."
He rubs his hands over his face as unwanted images from his dream earlier this morning race through his mind.
Cold, lifeless, stiff.
"I know," he whispers.
Silence settles upon them again. His mind is filled with guilt and regret. Hers is filled with confusion and anger.
She stares at him, he stares at the floor.
Her confusion and anger win out over the silence. She needs answers.
"I just don't understand. What changed?"
When he doesn't answer, she continues, "I mean, I know we haven't really seen each other in the last few weeks, and I know what we have isn't exactly conventional, but after six months of…whatever this is," she says as she waves her hand back and forth between them, "I think I deserve an explanation."
Silence again.
He leans back in his chair. Looking out the window, he quietly replies, "You don't."
Shocked at his answer, it takes a moment for her to speak.
"Excuse me?"
He looks down and shakes his head slowly. Finally meeting her eyes, he says, "You don't deserve one. She's my wife, Kate. That's the only explanation you need."
She knows by his tone that this is final. She's always known in the back of her mind that their arrangement of sorts wasn't going to be anything more. She had just hoped. He's never even taken her on a date besides the occasional lunch in between their classes, or take-out dinner when they worked late in his office. It was just sex and the occasional blow job for him.
When he first came to the university, they worked closely together and became good 'work' friends. She knew he was having problems with his marriage after his first year here, even though he would never talk about it. She just knew by the way he started staying later after work, when he could have easily taken the work home. She also noticed that he stopped excusing himself at lunch to call his wife. She even asked him about it once, but he just brushed her question off.
She noticed all of these things because, at the time, she was having similar problems with her own marriage.
When she was going through her divorce, something just switched. They both just needed a release. And that came in the form of sex.
For a while, it was just sex for her too. It's just been in these last couple of months that she started thinking about him differently, fantasizing about a future with him. She can't even pin point what changed for her or why she even started thinking of him that way. He's always been the same; never calling her, even though he has her phone number. Knowing where she lives, but never stopping by. She talks to him about her life, he never talks about his.
He's never really even kissed her. The only time his mouth had ever touched hers was right before they had sex, and even those kisses were rare.
Now something has changed, and she probably won't ever know what that is either. She knows him well enough to know that he's a very private person who holds everything inside. If he doesn't want to talk about it, he won't. She's only seen his vulnerable side once.
And that is right now.
Breathing in deeply and letting it out slowly, she knows what she needs to do. She's going to walk out of here with her dignity. He's right. She knew he was married. If he wants to end what they have between them, what argument does she really have? She's still confused and angry, but not with him. Mostly with herself, now, and the situation she put herself in. She's a 41 year old divorced woman, sleeping with a married man. She's smarter than this. She has a doctorate for Christ's sake.
The need to break down is strong, but she can't let him see that.
Shaking her head at herself, her tone is resolved. "You're right. I'll just... go."
He watches her walk out the door, confused and relieved that she accepted it so easily. He doesn't have it in him to try and figure out why. His focus is finally where it's supposed to be; his wife, his marriage, and his family. Now, he just needs to figure out where to go from here.
The need to call his son, to make sure everything is going okay, weighs heavily on his mind.
He hopes his son wasn't too concerned when he woke him up this morning. With that dream so fresh in his mind, he needed reassurance. As long as their son was with her, he had to believe that she'd be okay. He handed him a fifty and told him to just let her sleep, but take her to breakfast or lunch, maybe even see a movie when she got up. His son agreed, but then remembered that he had to work at two.
Anxiety had spiked in him again, until he realized that he could make it home by five.
Looking at the time, he sees that it's almost one o'clock and starts gathering the things he needs for his next class.
Making it to the lecture hall just in time, he sets his things down on his desk right as students start to file in. The next two hours go by surprisingly quick, and before he knows it, it's time for their 15 minute break.
As he closes the door to his office, he wastes no time in getting his phone out to call his son.
After a few rings, his son finally picks up.
"Hey, dad."
"Hey, how'd it go with your mom today?"
"Oh, uh, she never got up. I waited 'til around 1:30 before I had to start getting ready for work."
"What do you mean 'she never got up'?" He asks immediately, but trying not to sound too panicked.
"I mean, she never got up," his son responds to, what he thinks is, a stupid question.
Silence.
Knowing his dad's silence is never a good thing, and he's most likely not happy with his sarcastic answer, he explains, "I looked in your room at, like, twelve, and she was still asleep... You told me not to wake her up."
What his son doesn't know is that his father's silence is out of pure paralyzed fear that, this is it.
This is his nightmare coming to life.
A/N: Huge thanks to my pre readers in this chapter, Crackylu and my wifey, BittenIn Ca, AND my sister, Ashley… and also to my kick ass, super fast beta, Allison Cullen!