Page 68 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
“On what?”
I've been out of her life for eleven years. I don't catch her drift.
“I used to think about you, all the time after you left. For years … How stupid I was. You'd already moved on!”
“I’ve explained—”
“I was fresh out of high school, living in a small town, having to listen to the rumors. I was looking after my mom, I was there for my brother and sister, because my father vanished. He left us. He didn't care about the family he had. We didn't matter to him, even after my aunt told him what my mom had done. Life was awful and you were my escape. At least, in my head you were. You were the fantasy I turned to when things got tough.”
I slide my hand towards her, across the tabletop, aware that people are looking at us, but pull it away when she flinches. I'm unsure of whether I should sit beside her or not. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“My life fell to pieces, but you didn’t waste any time finding someone and starting a family. You were supposed to be taking care of your baby niece. Or is that another lie? It must be, because it doesn’t add up how you found the time to get married and start a family. How could you do that if you were taking care ofyoursister’s family?”
“It didn't happen in that order, and we didn't have anything, Megan.” I stare at her, needing her to understand this. “We didn’t have a relationship.”
She throws me a look of pure vitriol. “You worm yourself out of so many things. I feel sorry for your wife.”
“Soon-to-be-ex-wife.” I suck in a breath. “You and I weren’t together.” It's harsh, but it’s the truth. Megan and I weren’t a couple. How could we be when I was her teacher? I don’t deny that it was emotional, but we weren'ttogether.
That night changed things, and I can see now that she’s held onto that longer than I did. I wish I hadn’t given in to her. I wish I hadn’t succumbed, but she was irresistible.
We weren’t together. I didn't give her ideas that we ever could be. We both knew it was forbidden, and yet ... I failed and gave in and pleasured her.
“You were a student, and I was your teacher. Just because rumors spread around about us, they weren't true.” This isn't the conversation I thought we'd be having, but I need her to remember how it was back then. “I didn't owe it to you to stay single. There was no us.”
She looks at me, her eyes filling with pain. Then, she giggles. It’s so out of character, that it alarms me. She slaps the table playfully. “It was all in my head. I was a silly giggly high school teen, and I used you as my fantasy to help me get through the bad times.”
“You were never silly, or giggly.” She was the opposite. Too serious, always working too hard, bright, smart. And worn down by life. Even I could see that. She didn’t have the carefree attitude to life that many of her peers did. Megan Summers used to walk into the classroom with the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“Is this why you asked to see me?” To talk about the past, to have me explain? I hate that nothing between us goes smoothly. Not even something as simple as a conversation.
She falls silent and she looks so broken that I’m worried. I scoot to the seat next to her.
“Don't,” she cautions, but her voice is weak.
“I'm sorry. That's harsher than I intended. I cared for you Megan. I still care for you now. I didn't care for the rumors, or the warnings from Principal Fielding and the other teachers. I didn't let that stop me from caring about you, but the rumors going around the school weren’t true, were they?” I whisper, lowering my head, watching her stare at the fabric of her skirt.
“You felt ... nothing?” she asks, softly.
“I did feel something for you. You know I did. I just couldn't do anything about it. It was a fine line which I tried so hard not to cross. I almost succeeded, until that night when I gave in.”
“I needed you that night.”
“You tempted me,” I clarify.
“But I needed you.”
“And I was there for you,” I reply. I wish I’d been stronger and not caved in. That night flashes through my mind, wreaking havoc with me even now. “You were so gorgeous, but you were also vulnerable, and I was weak.”
She looks hurt. Injured. Like a wounded bird who can’t fly. “That really makes me feel good.”
“I don't want us to argue about it,” I tell her. “I did care about you. I did want to be with you, but I couldn't think about the future. I couldn't think about anything because it was wrong. Things were so intense. Teachers were watching me, and the girls sniggered every time they walked past me. It must have been incredibly tough for you. I recognized that. My intentions were to stay away. You were going to graduate, and I fully expected that you would get a scholarship and go off to college to start a new life. I didn’t know until now that that’s not how your life turned out.”
“And in the meantime, you got married and had a child.”
“You can't blame me for that.” She sees the past as different to how it was. “You can't think of it as you and I being an item, because we weren't. We weren't.”
“You sure know how to make a girl feel good.”
