Just a Number(15)

Sunday comes much faster than I’d like, and I head up the stairs solemnly, not ready for what’s about to happen. Her back is facing me and I watch her pack her things for a few minutes before knocking. She jumps, startled, and turns to face me. She smiles, but it doesn’t look happy. “Your ride going to be here soon?” I ask, sounding more forlorn than I mean to.

“She will,” Amelia whispers, dropping her eyes and turning back to her bags. She can’t even look at me.

“Amelia,” I begin, stepping farther into her room and sitting on the bed next to her bag. “Look at me.”

She complies, but only after I notice her fight the tremor in her chin. I try to tell myself it’s ridiculous to feel this broken up inside after sleeping with her once, but it’s a futile attempt; I crave her like I’ve never craved anything before.

“This weekend,” I tell her, taking her hands in mine, “was unbelievable. I just wanted you to know that, and that I’d like to think if the circumstances were different, we might—”

She stops me from continuing by smiling brightly. “I had a lot of fun, too” she replies. “Which is exactly what we wanted.” Inhaling deeply, she pulls one of her hands free, cradling my face, and leaning forward to rest her forehead to mine. “No regrets,” she whispers, kissing me softly before a car horn blares from outside her window.

After saying goodbye once more, she grabs her bag and heads for the stairs, leaving me on her bed. Alan’s already at work, having said goodbye to his daughter that morning after breakfast, so she’s able to keep moving without looking back. My heart wrenches and my stomach churns. I miss her, and she’s barely been gone a minute.

I mope around the big empty house, looking for anything and everything to keep my mind off of our time together. I know it’s best that I let her go—that we leave this as a one-time thing like we agreed—but I can’t shake her. She just keeps creeping back in, and I can’t deny that she’s reminded me what it’s like to feel desired for more than just my paycheck. It’s a feeling my beloved wife has never really been capable of evoking.

Gretchen showing up at Alan’s, reminded me of just how selfish she is, and it pissed me off. Hearing her accuse me of sleeping with Amelia was laughable after what I’d learned of her extramarital affairs, but a part of me wanted to let her believe it—wanted it to be true, even. I didn’t entertain her idea that Amelia and I were together, but I didn’t exactly squash them either. My nerves were rattled by the time I got rid of her, and when I returned to the kitchen, I found myself in Amelia’s arms as she did her best to comfort me. She’s always been a little wise beyond her years, so maybe that’s why it was so easy to give in to my desires, regardless of how inappropriate.

And then I kissed her and it was like the planets aligned and other miraculous shit happened all at once. The rational part of my brain screamed at me to stop—told me it was wrong—but I found it hard to believe when it felt so goddamn right.

Until Alan showed up.

Amelia and I broke apart, short of breath and red-faced. I tried to apologize for stepping out of line, but she brushed it off as though it was nothing. Yes, she had confessed to wanting it to happen as much as I did, but that didn’t make what happened okay…

Did it?

Thankfully, Alan had no idea what he almost walked in on, which meant I got to keep my life another day. It terrifies me to the core to think about how he might handle hearing about what happened between Amy and me.

Originally, I’d planned not to venture any further into forbidden waters where Amelia was concerned. I’d made up my mind, and was feeling resolved in my decision…until she joined me in the living room and sat next to me. Looking into her eyes made my resolve crack, and her taking my hand brought the first brick tumbling down. But it wasn’t until she said it didn’t have to be about anything other than us giving into our urges that it all came crashing down around us.

I don’t know if she’d truly intended for it to be just that one time—maybe she only wanted to know what it would be like to live out the fantasy she’d confessed to having about the two of us—but I soon realized that sleeping with her destroyed any possibility of me walking away from her. She woke something in me that I’d forgotten existed.

For the first time in over a decade, I feel alive again, and I don’t want to give that up just yet.

Without another thought, I grab my keys from the front table and race to my car. She’s got about an hour on me, so I’ll have to head straight to her apartment if I’m going to try and plead my case.