Her body sagged, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “How did it happen?” Her voice was so low, I barely heard her above the din of the lunch time rush. I winced and blanched, unsure if I could reveal to this already heartbroken woman how her husband had pursued me. It took me laying myself bare to Dalton to realize that was what happened, not the other way around. I’d put so much of the blame on myself that I didn’t see how skillfully he’d orchestrated the events surrounding our affair.
“It started out just as any other relationship would. There was flirting and catching each other’s eye when no one was looking. He pulled me aside after class one day to go over an assignment, telling me how well I’d done. After that, he gave me a lot of personalized attention, helping me with the things I struggled with and praising me when I did something right.” She sat stoically, absorbing every word as though committing it to memory. “He asked me to stop by his office one evening because he’d forgotten to bring the assignments to class. It was Thursday and he wanted to go over it before the weekend so I would have the correct answers for our test the following week.”
Her jaw tightened and her nostrils flared. The ruse was obvious to her, but I’d been so enamored with him, I didn’t realize what he was doing. Or maybe I did, but was so willing to go along with it that I simply didn’t care. After all, I never suspected I was in danger of becoming the other woman, not just his forbidden love interest.
“That was the first time he kissed me,” I confessed. Thinking about his lips on mine once made me giddy with excitement, my body flushing with heated anticipation. Now it just made me sad and a little nauseated. He kissed me, then probably went home to kiss her.
“Let me guess,” she gritted out, her hands gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white, “he asked you to become his teaching assistant so he could keep you close.”
It wasn’t a question. No, it was a statement of fact. Did he tell her how he’d seduced me?
“Yeah, how did you-”
“He’s done it before,” she spat, her face hardening. “A couple years ago, he started messing around with an undergrad and I caught them making out in his office.” My eyes widened in surprise. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this? She had seemed so willing to place all the blame on me, even though she knew he had a history of seducing his students.
“I wanted to believe he’d changed,” she confessed, her voice cracking. “He promised.” A single tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped at it angrily.
“I’m so sorry.” I reached for her hand, but hesitated. I didn’t even know her first name. I doubted she would welcome my touch or my comfort.
She sucked in a shuddering breath before continuing. “He claimed he never slept with her, but deep down I knew he was lying. I didn’t want to believe it though, so I pretended I didn’t. How could I be so stupid?”
“You’re not stupid,” I assured her. “You love him. He makes it very easy.” There it was. The truth I hadn’t wanted to face. The undeniable fact that made his betrayal even more excruciating. I’d fallen for him. He was so charming and attentive, it was hard not to love him. But that love fizzled and burned out, his infidelity extinguishing that flame like a fire hydrant to a candle.
“So did you,” she affirmed, an array of emotions playing over her features. Sorrow, anger, heartbreak, jealousy.
“I did,” I admitted. “But not anymore.” My heart belonged to another.
Dalton.
He was like a ray of sunshine, illuminating my self-worth in my darkest of days. His invitation to paradise was my saving grace. That week I spent with him put the broken pieces of my soul together after another had shattered it.
“I still do,” she confessed. “How pathetic is that?” My heart broke all over again for her.
“You are not pathetic,” I declared. “He is your husband,” I echoed my earlier statement. “You vowed to love him unconditionally and through any hardship, right?” She nodded her head. “So, you’ve held up your end of the bargain.”
She wiped at her eyes again. I didn’t know what it was like to be in her position, to be married to someone and love them so deeply, even though they betrayed you. I wouldn’t judge her for continuing to love him, but I wouldn’t pretend he deserved her forgiveness, either. Ultimately, that was her decision to make.
“It’s okay to keep loving him. You probably always will. But you don’t have to forgive him.” Her expression morphed from defeated to stunned. “That part is totally up to you. Nobody else can make that decision for you.”
“I have to,” she choked out. “Our baby,” she said, cradling her stomach.
“I understand.” I reached out again, taking her hand this time. “You do what you think is best for you,” I instructed, my eyes dropping, “and for your child.”
Did I think she should leave his ass and take him for everything he had? Of course. But she needed to come to that conclusion on her own. If she decided to forgive him and give him another chance, I hoped he took it and cherished it. I hoped he became the best father and husband anyone could ask for. I just didn’t have much faith in his ability to do so.
Her shoulders shook with silent sobs and I squeezed her hand, offering what little comfort I could. I couldn’t imagine the pain she must be feeling. Jason was lucky to have someone love him so deeply. He was a damn fool who certainly didn’t deserve her.
“Mrs. Barret, I-”
“Melody,” she corrected. “Please, call me Melody.”
“Okay,” I agreed. She looked like a Melody, all poised and beautifully put together. “Melody, I hope that no matter what, you find happiness. You deserve better than the mess that’s been heaped on you, and I’m truly sorry for my part in it.”
“Thank you,” she sniffled and wiped her eyes one last time. “And I’m sorry for attacking you like that,” she added sheepishly, hanging her head in shame.
“It’s okay. I honestly think anyone else would have clawed my eyes out.”
She giggled, then broke into full-on laughter. I was relieved she found my joke funny. Someone had to lighten the mood around here.
“Ah, thank you. I needed that laugh. It’s been far too long,” she admitted, wiping at her eyes that were now watering from laughter. I was thankful they weren’t tears of despair anymore.
Our lunch arrived shortly after, putting a hold on further conversation. We left that bistro with our bellies full and our hearts a little lighter.
“Thank you for that,” Melody said, motioning to the building we just exited. “I needed to hear your side of the story and the brutal truth about my husband.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry we had to meet this way. I think under different circumstances, you and I could have been friends.”
“I think you’re right.” She smiled, and the look suited her far more than the sad, angry visage of a woman scorned.
“I’m Taylor, by the way. I don’t think I properly introduced myself.” I reached out and offered my hand.
“I don’t think I gave you much of a chance,” she replied, taking it.