If I close my eyes, I can still relive that night this past winter when I broke a wonderful man's heart. It was not intentional. Chris Morgan is one of the kindest, most genuine men I know. I tell myself I'm just a human-- far from perfect. We're teachers, you see. My entire purpose is to educate and show love and kindness to all individuals. Chris and I had been showing lots of kindness and making lots of love to each other for about eight months at the time. Chris is the sexiest forty nine year old I have ever seen, and by far the best lover I'd ever had. We are teachers at the same school, and what drama we could have created given our twenty year age difference!
Matt Phelps began his job second semester as a PE teacher, and I was assigned to be his mentor, even though I teach English. What had developed into a crush for both of us came to a head after an amazing night out with him. See, even though Chris Morgan and I had been involved in an intense sexual relationship, I didn't know how to tell him I wanted to go out with Matt. And who said the lives of teachers can't be just as complicated as the teenagers we deal with on a daily basis?
I slept with Matt. I know, I know. You're reading this now and thinking, damn! This girl makes her rounds! I've never been the promiscuous type at all, but how could I resist either man? That particular night I lied to Chris and told him I was going out with a girlfriend from college. I had made the mistake of leaving my cell phone at his house, and being the wonderful man that he is, he took my spare key and had planned on surprising me. Imagine his astonishment when he beat me there, and I showed up later that morning, wearing the clothes of another man.
"Chris!" I uttered in shock as dropped my purse. "I...I didn't expect you."
"I don't even know what to say right now," he uttered, his voice constantly at an even keel. Even in the most frustrating moments with students, Chris stayed calm. He stood, a dour expression marring his rugged, handsome countenance. "You didn't have to lie to me."
He sauntered to the rocking chair by my patio doors and stared out. I walked to him to touch his arm, and he shrugged it away as though I were a shot of venom.
"But, what was I supposed to do? I- I truly didn't expect things to happen the way they did-"
"But they did, Danielle," he said strongly, his voice catching. "I'll tell you something, though." He turned and looked at me. "I saw it coming. As bad as I hoped and hoped you wouldn't, you did. And now, there's nothing I can do about it."
"What are you saying?" I said tearfully. I shook, though it wasn't cold in my apartment. My teeth rattled and I hugged myself, longing to feel him, touch him. Anything!
"The way he looks at you," he said softly, gently. He continued to stare out the window. "The way you smile and blush when he's around you, the way you giggle, the way he comes into your class for no apparent reason... Oh, God..." His voice trailed off. I heard the pain in his voice as his litany continued. He finally turned and looked at me, and in his indigo eyes, I saw them shine with the promise of tears he would not let fall.
I began to cry openly, and I longed to go to him. I knew that right now wasn't the time. To my surprise, he inched closer and closer, and he put his hands on my face.
"What the hell was I thinking," he seemed to say to himself. "I'm an old man. You won't want someone like me in ten years, or probably even five. I let myself get too close, but what was I thinking?"
"Chris," I sniffled, caressing his hands that still cupped my face tenderly. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I've hurt you."
He smiled bitter sweetly, and then ran his hands into my hair, pulling me into him. I cried into his chest as he held me close.
"Why, Danielle? Why didn't you just tell me!" He asked as he pushed me away. His action wasn't rough, but it wasn't gently, either.
A dam broke as I poured my heart out to him. It felt good to cry, and it felt good to let him know what had been in my heart.
"He pays attention to me! He makes me feel good about myself even when we're not in bed! Damn it, Chris! Don't you understand? I play along for you. I am polite and professional- not a single person we work with has any clue we've been intimate. But with Matt... It just felt good to do something other than have sex."
He laughed a rueful laugh, and he turned to me, a fire blazing in his face.
"And who is always ready and waiting to suck on my cock or ride on it every chance she gets?" His face reddened and the even keel was breaking. "I didn't hear any complaints when I had my head between your legs just the other evening!"
"Stop it!" I cried, wiping the tears that still would not cease. They were no longer tears of sadness, but of anger. "You've never wanted more from me than sex! You've never taken me out to dinner! We've never seen a movie! Didn't you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, deep down I wanted to be more than your bed partner? Heaven forbid one of your buddies would find out you were involved with me. Or maybe they already know I'm your whore and they just keep silent about it."
He stopped, his expression changing. The lines around his eyes crinkled and he shook his head in amazement.
"You think that's all you are to me?"
"You've never proven otherwise." I said painfully.
I watched him sit in the wooden rocking chair, putting his head in his hands as he let out a long sigh.
"I am twenty years older than you, Danielle," he said after a moment. "You're not even thirty yet. You have your whole life ahead of you... Marriage, children... You're young, beautiful and vibrant. It hurts me more than I can even bare to think of you with Phelps, but it's what you deserve. You need to be with a younger man who can give you all the things I can't. You were far from nothing but my whore. I was- I do- have very deep feelings for you."
He sat up and walked over to me, cupping my chin as he kissed me gently, lingeringly. It was the most wonderful kiss- I wanted it to last, but he stopped. He eyed me carefully, the sadness returning. He ran a hand through his silky dark brown hair flecked here and there with gray with frustration.
"It just isn't fair," he seemed to say to himself again. He shook his head as he continued. "I use to lay in bed with you, holding you, kissing you, making love to you, and I wondered when the day would come when you'd realize this wouldn't work."
"So, you're basically letting me go now, aren't you?" I asked in wonder. "But Chris, our age difference means nothing to me. We could make this work. I started out just feeling a physical and sexual chemistry with you, and now it's more. I don't want to you to go like this."
"Later you'll realize it's for the best," he said. "You can't tell me you don't have feelings for the guy."
I looked away in shame. No, I could not tell him I was devoid of feelings for Matt. I met his eyes again, and my expression was enough.
