"It has nothing to do with the sex," he said. I rolled my eyes. He leaned forward and put his hands on the desk, reaching for mine, but I kept my arms crossed. "Dahlia, we have a connection." He was really starting to piss me off.
"You're just saying that because you don't want me fucking Richard!" I spat the words out and he cringed.
"Are you having sex with Richard?" He asked me.
"That's none
of your business," I said looking out of the window again.
"Dahlia, I've never felt this way about anyone before, not even my wife. My wife and I haven't been intimate in a very long time," he told me.
"Save it. I don't want to hear it. As long as you're still married, there will be nothing going on between you and I. I'm no one’s side chick!" I said, standing up abruptly. I grabbed my things and left, shutting his door behind me. I was so mad that I was shaking. I had to get out of there.
Professor Moore text me:
‘Divorces take time.’
Before I could stop myself, I text him back:
‘Well maybe this will help speed up the process’
and sent him the pictures of his wife and Gemma. Moments later, he started calling my phone nonstop, but I didn't answer. It started raining and I had to run home. I realized that I was crying. I had got myself in a mess! I let the rain wash away my tears.
By the time I walked in our apartment, I was all wet. Gemma was there making tea. She looked like she wanted to make a snarky remark, but when she saw how sad I looked, she decided against it.
"Want some tea? I won't drug yours," she offered. This was the first thing that Gemma had said to me in days. She was trying to make me smile but I wasn't in much of a smiling mood. I sat down at the table and she put a mug with a teabag and hot water before me. Then she went in the refrigerator to get the almond milk and brought over the sugar and spoons. We made our tea in silence. Meanwhile, my phone was vibrating like crazy in my pocket. I put it on silent. Gemma's phone vibrated on the table and she smiled at it, picking it up and texting someone back.
"Sharon and I have been talking all weekend," she said happily. At this, my ears perked up. "We're planning on meeting up again. For a real date this time." I genuinely smiled at Gemma. This was good news. Maybe I hadn't made a mess after all, maybe everything would work out for the best.
"That's great Gemma. I'm happy for you," I told her. Then I remembered something that made me jump up out of my seat. "I'm supposed to be meeting Richard for breakfast!" I exclaimed as I rushed into my room to change out of these wet clothes. Gemma followed me and stood in the doorway watching me.
"Who's Richard?" She asked me.
"This guy from my Figure Drawing class," I answered her as I got dressed. Gemma nodded thoughtfully. Once I was dressed, I rushed past her, then doubled back and hugged her. "Thank you!" I said and then let her go and preparing to leave.
"For what?" She called after me but I didn't answer. It had stopped raining but the ground was still wet as I hurried down the hill to campus, hoping that I hadn't kept Richard waiting too long. On my way to the dining hall, a deep voice called my name. It was Professor Moore. I ignored him and tried to keep walking but he caught up with me and grabbed me by the arm, steering me into one of the academic buildings. He didn't let me go until we were inside an empty classroom with the door closed.
"We need to talk," he told me.
"You need to be talking to your wife, not me," I said.
"How did you get those pictures?" He demanded.
"Does it matter?! Will it change the fact that she cheated on you?" I snapped. Professor Moore looked pained and I felt guilty for hurting him like this, but now that my guard was up, it was going to be hard for it to go back down.
"We've already talked about divorce. I'm going to see my lawyer this week," he said it like it was supposed to make me feel better. "Dahlia please, look at me." I looked him in the eyes and saw his sincerity. "I love you," he said. Those three words were like a wrecking ball to my defenses.
"Don't say it if you don't mean it," I told him.
"I do mean it," he said. "And to show you that I'm serious, I got you something." He pulled a little black box out of his jacket pocket. When he opened it, there was a ring inside. It was rose gold with a cluster of pink diamonds arranged into a flower. The ring was beautiful, but I didn't understand what it meant.
"If you're not going to propose to me, please do not get down on one knee," I told him. He smiled and removed the ring from the box.
"This is a promise ring," he told me. He took my hand in his and slid the ring onto my finger. I loved how it looked, although I didn't want him to know it.
"A promise of what?" I asked him.
"A promise of forever. A promise that you are the only one to ever make my heart feel like this and that you are the only one who ever will. A promise that one day soon, you will be my wife," he told me. I fought a smile. This was all very convincing but I wasn't sure if I could trust him. Lots of married men make empty promises of divorces that never happen. I just didn't want to be naive.