“You’re excused,” I said, my voice throaty. Not because she was attractive. Because I was nervous. I’d asked her to join me for a drink because I felt I had to. I’d known her for years, not well, but I had known her. And so this was the first time I’d seen her since the announcement had broken like a bomb that morning. The announcement that she was pregnant.
She was supposed to be on the pill.
“The kids are at home,” I said, my voice small. I didn’t want to offend her. I didn’t want her to walk away. But I wanted her to walk away. And there was a part of me that wanted to drink, too.
She looked me up and down, her head tilted away on one side, smiling a seductive smile. A smile that said she wanted me. “A drink,” she said. “A quiet drink.”
Outside, the snow was coming down so thickly it looked like it was on the move. She took my hand as I led her through the doors to the office.
“You’re freezing my hand,” I said, shifting away from her, then letting her lead me into the faculty lounge.
By the time we were there, we were both warm. I bought a bottle of illicitly imported vodka that was on the shelves behind the bar, and a glass for her. I asked them to lock the door behind me.
All the talk in the lounge went silent as we watched it happen. The lock snapped, and the door swung open.
“All I wanted,” she said. “All I wanted was you.”
And suddenly, it was happening again. It was happening like it used to.
I let her take my hand.
She was here again in the light of the main doors. I was here again by the window, with my glass of vodka in my hand. I watched the snow in the distance. I felt it on my face like a lingering kiss, and I wondered if this would happen again.
She was there again, too. The one I knew. Our children were screaming.
“It’s okay, love,” I said. “They’ll be all right.”
She turned, and it was as if she was walking towards me. I felt her again, and I swore I could feel her skin on mine.
She was there again, on the windowsill.
“It’s all I want,” she said. “All I’ve ever wanted.”
I shook my head, no. I’d changed since she first walked into my office. I had children now. I had a family. I knew this was wrong.
But I saw her again in the reflection. I watched her form grow out of the glass.
The madness was back. Again, again, again and again.
“No,” I shouted. I took the sheet of paper and folded it up small. I dropped it down behind the desk, where I thought nobody would ever find it.
The madness was back. Again, again, again and again.
“Stop,” I shouted. I took the sheet of paper and folded it up small. I dropped it down behind the desk where I thought nobody would ever find it.
The madness was back. Again, again, again and again.
“Stop,” I shouted. I took the sheet of paper and folded it up small. I dropped it down behind the desk, where nobody would ever find.
There was no escape.
All I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, and all I’ll ever want, is you.
