I watched the boats drifting across the bay, jealous of their freedom, knowing it should have been mine as I began my senior year. They hoisted their sails to take advantage of the gentle breeze.
Advantage. That’s what some would have said he’d taken of me. As for me, I wasn’t sure. The guilt tried to squeeze in again. I chased it away. Was he to blame? Was I? I didn’t know. Either way, I refused to feel shame. No. I hadn’t known. Hadn’t known anything other than the way he made me feel.
My flesh tingled with the memory of his touch. His trembling hands on my arms after he’d removed my wet shirt. The tickling sensations of his fingertips gliding up and across my back to move my hair away. The sweet softness of his lips against my neck, nibbling their way toward my ear where the sound of my name came to me on a breath, a whisper.
A gust of wind rushed around me, cooling skin that burned, yearned for him, even now when I knew it could never be.
He’d come to me one rainy night at the end of May. I’d just left the house of a new friend, foolishly walking home alone when the heavens opened up. From a cool evening sky filled with scattered clouds to a torrential downpour, it happened quickly, much like my life.
Much like the affair.
“Can I give you a ride?” he asked, rolling down the window just enough so that I could hear and see him. I hesitated, and he laughed. “I don’t bite.” He pushed open the passenger door, and I got in, still apprehensive but relieved to be out of the rain. My instincts told me I should not be there, yet something drew me. I was reminded of the moth and the flame.
It wasn’t like he was a complete stranger. I’d met him at Allie’s house. No, that wasn’t true. I only saw him there. He hadn’t stayed long. An older man, I assumed he had come to see Allie’s father and left when he wasn’t home.
I sighed, trying to push the angst away, and he smiled, just like he had at Allie. She’d seemed so at ease then, casually hugging him before she’d returned to my side, before we wandered off to meet and greet the others she’d invited to her end-of-school bash.
He asked my name and I told him, along with my address two blocks north, closer to the bay. We made small talk while he drove.
“Looks awfully dark,” he said, pulling up in front of my parent’s home.
“Yeah.” My voice shook. I hated staying alone while my parents were away, which happened too often. I foolishly told him so and he offered to walk me in. I should have said no but agreed anyway, feeling more afraid of being alone than with him.
He helped me with the key and then the lights, roaming around, closing the curtains I had forgotten to shut before I’d gone to Allie’s.
“There.” He smiled. “All better … except that you’re shaking. You need to get out of those wet clothes.”
The way he looked at me … I’d never felt desired, needed, never knew what it was to hurt with longing. How could I have known that one night would completely change my life? How could I have known that was how fate worked?
* * * * *
“I’m sorry,” he said, though not until the morning light crept through the curtains. His words could not replace my innocence or squelch the loneliness I felt after he left my side. My feelings were unjust. Somewhere between that first kiss and our parting, I’d noticed his ring.
Weeks later, when I needed to talk to someone, I met his wife ... and learned he had another child besides the one I held secret, growing inside of me. I’d gone back to Allie’s house to tell her, feeling she was someone I could open up to. That’s when she introduced me to her mom and dad. I knew then that I could never tell anyone about what had happened between me and the near-stranger that rainy night in May.
A sudden rain halted my retrospection. I turned to go back inside knowing the shelter of my home would not shield me from the drops that fell from my eyes. What a cruel keeper fate was to have brought me heaven and hell all wrapped into one.
One more glance at the bay. The boats were lowering their sails, the unexpected rain cutting short their dreams of a perfect day.
What a shame.
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