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“I can’t believe this. After all these years… How is this even possible?” I look at Bailey through watery eyes. “I wish Grandpa was alive to see it.”
“I know.”
Grandpa was like a dad to both of us, and holidays on his farm were a package deal. Bailey always went with me, and my grandparents treated her like one of their own. I miss those days, spending our days in the sun, helping out where we could. It was the best childhood, free and uncomplicated, and at the end of each holiday, I cried when it was time to go home.
Some of his last words to me were, “She’s a good one, Quinn. Don’t ever let her go.” The loss of him was hard on both of us, and I know this brings back so many memories, not only for me but for her as well. I want to go to her and wrap my arms around her, but as much as I want to, I can’t.
I feel ashamed. I feel tainted. And the way she’s turned her back on me screams that any kind of contact would not be welcomed. So instead, I stay where I am, like the coward I am.
“Thank you, Bailey. This means the world to me.”
*****
I’M IN THEshower when the enormity of it all hits me. What I stand to lose if Bailey ever finds out.
Seeing that knife has opened the floodgates, and now I can’t stop the memories of our life looping through my mind.
I often got teased for having a girl as a best friend, but it never mattered to me. Bailey could run faster, climb higher, and spit further than most boys our age. And at seven, that was the most important thing in life.
The early days when sleepovers were still allowed. How we’d stay up way past our bedtime, holed up under a blanket, flashlight shining while reading comics. As much as Bailey loved playing outside, she loved reading.
How her smiles could make me feel better no matter how bad my day was going. How with a look, we could share a whole conversation.
How those smiles and looks gradually changed, became longer and more lingering, until one day Bailey exploded.
“Ugh, just kiss me, already,” she exclaimed, her hands on her hips, challenge blazing from her eyes.
That first kiss was awkward, with our mouths pressed together and our eyes wide open, staring at each other. When we finally pulled apart, we were both flustered.
“Maybe we need to practice more?” I said, hoping it wouldn’t be a one-and-done kind of deal. It wasn’t. We practiced a lot. Often. And soon, I was hooked. I couldn’t get enough.
The first time we had sex. She cried, and I embarrassed myself. Two-pump chump is definitely a thing.
The day she walked down the aisle. I saw my world reflected in her eyes. It was a big wedding, but everyone faded away. It was just me and her, and it was my turn to cry, not caring about the ribbing I’d have to endure from my groomsmen.
How every time we made love, it was more than the physical attraction. It was the emotional connection built on countless shared memories.
And all the little moments in between. The highs, the lows. The laughter and the tears.
I drop my head in my hands, and my shoulders heave, my tears mingling with the water running down my face. What the fuck have I done? I’ve betrayed the best person in my life. The only person who’s ever accepted everything about me—the good and the bad. The only person—since Mom died—who cared for me more than she cared for herself.
If she finds out about my unfaithfulness, it will shatter her, and I’ll lose her. I’ve survived many things in my life, but I don’t think I’ll ever survive that.
Furiously, I start scrubbing. I scrub until my skin feels red and raw, but I can’t scrub away the ugliness, the knowledge of what I’ve done festering in the deepest part of me.
When I slide in next to her, I pull her into my arms. My grip is tight. If I can hold on tight enough, everything will go away. Everything will be like it was before I succumbed to this madness. I’ll bury it deep, and she doesn’t need to know. Every day, I’ll make it up to her, and hopefully, if enough time passes this shame that’s suffocating me will fade along with the memory of what I’ve done.
I have to end things with Justine. There’s simply no other way.
*****
I CAN HARDLYlook at Justine. Last night is still fresh in my mind. I’ve made up my mind to end things with her and have been avoiding her all morning. It doesn’t make it easy, though. Just because my mind has made the decision doesn’t mean my body has. It hasn’t gotten the memo yet. The lust is still there, simmering beneath the surface. It’s just not worth it to give in to it.
I know it will be best if I request her to be transferred to another mentor, but I can’t think of a good enough reason to do so. Phillip will have questions especially because I’ve been giving her glowing recommendations. So, until I can come up with a plan, I’ve assigned her to help Ben. I could tell she was hurt, but it needed to be done.
I haven’t missed the worry-filled looks she’s been shooting me. It coats me in guilt, and it’s sick and twisted. Not only am I lying to my wife, but I’m also lying to her. I’m feeling guilt towards both of them, and it’s eating me up inside. Justine doesn’t deserve this. She’s done nothing wrong, and I’m sure she won’t take it kindly if she finds out she’s been involved in an affair. That her trust in me has been completely misplaced.
She’s young enough to still have stars in her eyes, and I don’t want to be the one to dim them for her. Life has a way of doing that all by itself.
