Gabriella Ch. 06

Patricia froze as her throat dried out.

"Oh," the girl said, before she ducked her head back out and read the name on the door. She glanced back at Patricia. "Have you seen Professor Graham?"

Patricia couldn't speak as she shook her head.

"Crap. Okay, sorry."

"What's your name?" Patricia asked when her vocal cords resumed function.

The girl looked skeptically at Patricia. "Allison," she said slowly, sounding out each syllable.

Patricia exhaled. Not Sarah. Not her nightmare. Not her opponent. "Hey, Allison. I'm his wife. Did you want to leave a message for him?"

"Oh, cool. Can you just tell him that I can't take the make-up test today because if I'm late for practice, Coach won't let me start tomorrow."

Patricia smiled. She had missed out on so much of this when she was in school. "Sure, I'll let him know."

"Thanks!" The girl jetted out of the door when Patricia heard a thud and then her husband's voice.

"Whoa, slow down Alli. And where are you going? You're supposed to be taking a test now."

"I know, I just told your wife I can't today. Coach Davis won't let me start tomorrow. Monday? Please?" the girl begged.

Patricia strained her ears to hear his reply.

"My wife?"

"Yeah, she's in your office. So, Monday okay?"

"Uh, yeah," he mumbled before he walked through the door.

His hair was slightly disheveled and lighter brown in color without gel to keep it tame. He wore the same clothes from the day before, but he still looked sexy. For an instant, she wished she had married someone less attractive. Someone who most women in a small town wouldn't fantasize about sleeping with.

Patricia gave him a small smile. "Hey."

"Hey," he answered softly, his baby blues searching her eyes. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. You?"

He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I'm better now that you're here."

They were both quiet. She rubbed the small bump from the thumbtack injury and the slight pain got her to refocus. "I had some free time for lunch and wanted to talk. Are you free now? I mean, if it's a bad time, we don't—"

"No, I'd love to talk now." He must have realized how eager he sounded because he stuffed his hands into his pockets and in a calmer voice said, "If you're okay with that."

Patricia nodded.

Simon was about to speak when another voice cut him off.

"Professor Graham, I need to talk to you about my grade. This is just retarded," the female voice carried into the room, right as blonde hair came into focus behind him. She couldn't make out the face, but the high pitch squeak in the girl's voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

Simon turned around. "We can talk about that later."

"But—"

"Not now, Sarah. Monday."

Patricia's stomach hit the floor. Her throat went dry and she could hear a drumbeat pounding in her ears. Blonde. Sarah. Simon's shoulder obstructed the girl's face, but Patricia knew it was her. It had to be.

"I—" the girl tried again.

"Out. Now," Simon ordered then shut the door. He turned around and shook his head. "These kids are driving me—" His eyebrows drew together. "What's wrong?"

Patricia's insides were trembling. She had faced the other woman before in college with Rodney. The girls who claimed they slept with him would look on with smug expressions as they whispered to their friends and laughed in Patricia's direction. She stood alone with her chin up while her body burned with shame. She hated those girls, hated being the butt of the joke. And most of all she hated that it was Rodney who had helped make her junior year of college one of constant humiliation.

Those feelings had been dead and buried for years...until now.

Simon turned toward the door again, before looking back at her. "Patri—" he started, before his eyes widened. It was almost comical how it clicked in his mind right before her eyes. "Oh! No, no, no, no....tha—that wasn't her."

"I have to go," Patricia whispered through her constricted vocal cords. Simon grabbed her as she rushed around the desk.

"Patricia, look at me," he said, spinning her around. There was a frantic sound in his voice. "That's not her, I swear to you, that's not her!"

She jerked free and reached for the door, before Simon grabbed her again, this time from behind, barring her hands from grasping the knob. He pulled her to his body, her back pressed against his chest. His arms were like steel bands around her.

He breathed against her ear. "I swear to you, that wasn't her, honey. I swear."

Patricia struggled to calm her breaths as adrenaline still flooded her system. She felt scared, like she had been dropped from a building.

His grip tightened around her and he buried his face in her hair as he slowly rocked them back and forth. "God, I'm so sorry I made you like this." She heard the strain in his voice. "I'm sorry."

"That wasn't her." Patricia wasn't sure if she was asking a question or declaring a statement. But either way, she felt that she had to hear the words out loud once more.

"No."

Patricia slumped against him. Every bit of energy she had was drained. She assumed after Myra's efforts to get her a day off from work, it would be less stressful then it had become.

They remained joined together, back to front, for several minutes. Her eyes remained on the door as his heartbeat vibrated through her body. Students laughed and talked as they passed his door, and each time she prayed the surprise visits had finally ceased for the day. She couldn't take any more surprises.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked.

Patricia nodded.

Simon released her long enough to grab his office keys and lock up. He held her hand as he navigated them around the horde of people waiting to get into classes. A few girls chatted in groups while several guys acknowledged their friends the only way that young college boys know how...cupping their mouths and shouting their names. Some eyed her and one of them was so bold as to say, "Nice, Professor Graham."

Patricia hid her smile.

They reached an empty lecture room. Simon released her hand and walked to the white erase board located at the front of the room. In big bright red letters he wrote: Professor Graham's 2pm and 4pm Ancient History classes are cancelled for today.

He turned to her and smiled. "Let's go."

***

Patricia stared at Simon's profile in the car. He needed a shave and his eyes seemed deeper set than normal. His brown hair flirted with the tips of his ears, something she knew he hated, but she thought was adorable.

"Where are we going?"

"Home," he answered, keeping his eyes on the road.

"What's at home?"

"I just feel it's the best place for us to start again. Not away at some resort. I should have realized that the first time."

Patricia turned to the window and considered his answer. She really believed that a weekend in a winter wonderland would erase their problems. But she hadn't been able to push it aside. Nothing had fallen back into place once they returned, and she couldn't pretend.

When they pulled into their driveway, Simon hopped out.

Patricia wrestled with her seatbelt before swinging her door wide. A thud sounded on the other side and she looked up to find Simon limping backwards.

"Ow."

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" she said. "Are you okay?"

He rubbed his knee and limped toward her. "I might not have a career in pro football anytime soon, but I guess I deserved that. At any rate, I was trying to open the door for you."

Patricia held back a giggle. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

Once inside, Patricia dropped down onto the couch. Now that they were alone in the house together, she was clueless on how to begin this "healing" process.

Simon sat down beside her. He placed his face into his hands and noisily exhaled before turning to her.

"Do you hate me?" His eyes were full of sadness.

It was a simple question. Patricia had asked herself the same thing last night as she tossed and turned. Did she hate him for what he had done? What he destroyed?

"No," she answered quietly. "I hate what you did, but I don't hate you. I could never hate you."

He nodded and leaned back. "I realize that this is a deep wound that I can't cover with a band aid. I can't expect a trip and one month to make it better. This is something that might take more than a month or two...or even a year if not longer. I feel like I was giving you a time limit for the amount of pain that I've put you through. I was just being stupid and trying to take the easy road out of this fu—crazy mess I caused."

Patricia stared down at her hands. "Why did you do it?"

When he didn't answer, she looked up at him. He was staring at his interlaced fingers while he twirled his thumbs over one another. His light pink lips were turned down.

"I think if I just knew that, it could help me cope with all of this. But I'm left wondering everything," she added.

"I think..."

Patricia held her breath. Now she wasn't so sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"...she reminded me of how I used to be. Of a different life I could have had." He spoke slowly as if he were thinking about the words as they left his mouth. How they sounded. What they meant.

Patricia folded the words over and over in her brain to make sense of them. "Of a better life?"

He shook his head. "No. Just different."

But did different mean better? Patricia watched his thumbs as they rolled back and forth over one another. He was nervous although his voice didn't betray it.

"Do you regret marrying me?"

He turned to her, his eyes serious. "Absolutely not. There's not been a single day that I've woken up and regretted that decision. If anything, it's the opposite. I can't imagine my life without you."

She ran her sweaty hands down her skirt. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"I guess I should turn that question on you. Do you regret marrying me?"

"No." She couldn't give the conviction around why she felt that way, but her answer was still the same as his.

Simon nodded.

"What was she like?" Patricia couldn't bear to utter her name again.

His body tensed. "Nothing like you. And I mean that as a compliment."

"So, what was she like?" She wasn't going to let him off that easy. If his married life was so great, then what was it about Sarah that was strong enough to make him stray?

He sighed and wiped a hand down his face. "I don't know. I—well..." He shrugged. "She was very combative and stubborn."

"Sounds like a winner," Patricia snorted, turning away from him. She hadn't meant to sound sarcastic, but it was hard to remain diplomatic.

Simon gave a nervous chuckle.

"So she was combative and stubborn...and obviously good in bed."

"Patricia, let's not go there, please?"

"Fine. I think I'm going to head back into work," she announced. She stood as his hand jetted out and grasped her arm.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, pulling her back down. When she was seated, he looked away from her. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath. The obscenity got her attention. Well, she wanted Simon to be real with her. That's the only way this marriage had a chance to work. He shook his head and turned back toward her. "I think my relationship with her was strictly sexual."

"You think?"

"I know."

"So she could have been any random girl, right? She wasn't special to you in any way? You didn't have any feelings for her while you were seeing her for a whole year?" Patricia actually didn't know which was worse. Finding out that he would just sleep with any random girl, or finding out that this girl was special to him.

"I don't know what to say to you."

"Just tell me the truth."

"The truth," he repeated. "The truth is none of it was planned. And I can't explain why it went on for as long as it did because I was miserable most of the time. You asked if I had feelings for her. Yeah, I feel responsible and guilty because I realize now that underneath her tough girl bravado was just a girl who needed someone to believe in her. I should've been there for as a mentor and a friend, and nothing else." He sounded disappointed in himself and Patricia started to believe he'd never jeopardize their marriage this way again.

"The truth is, I was wrong, Patricia. I have no other defense than I'm sorry to the billionth degree. And I'm not sorry because I got caught, I was sorry from the first time it happened."

"Has she accepted that it's over?"

A dark look crossed Simon's face. "Yes. She's with someone else." He gently ran his fingertips over her hand. "I just want my life, our life, back."

A warm sensation flowed through her arms as she looked up at his face. His eyes held an intensity that she had never seen in another human being. The first time she had noticed it, was when he stared down at her as a cocky eighteen-year-old while she filled out his orientation papers. She found it hard to concentrate during their tour of the campus. She felt his eyes on her the whole time, making her feel exposed in a crowd full of strangers. He strolled off to the side, his hands in his pockets but his eyes never left hers. Not even when she asked the group to look in a certain direction.

"If I could go back and undo everything, I would in a second," he continued. "Honestly, I don't know what else to say to you. If I was an English professor, I could quote you some sonnets, but I'm not. My specialty is history and analyzing the past. And I've done that with my past behavior a million times and a million times later, I can't justify a single thing during the affair. I—I really don't know what's left for me to say other than I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

For the first time since Patricia's world fell apart, she unleashed tears. She covered her face and turned away, but he pulled her closer to him.

"I love you, wife," he whispered again in her ear, as he cradled her.

She was ready to make things right. There was no magic button to transport her to the past and stop what happened. There was no quick fix or special cure to make everything better again. It was going to take work and trust and love. And she was willing to put one hundred percent into all three.

She wiped the streaks from her cheeks. "W—we can make this work, ri—right?" she hiccupped out.

He pulled her face to his and kissed her.

Patricia felt the ice melting around her heart. Feeling his lips against hers made her body tingle with an old familiar feeling. Simon was not Sam or Nigel or Rodney and neither of those men could ever be him. Despite this one setback in their relationship, he had been damn near flawless, and at times causing her to feel like she wasn't good enough for him. She remembered thinking what exactly did she bring to the relationship besides baggage? A disgruntled teenager and no money. But he accepted her with arms wide open and gave her a chance. She would now return the favor.

She pulled away from him and walked to the window. She peered out.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, just wondering when Ella will be home." She turned around and crossed her arms over her chest.

Simon glanced at the cable box. "Not sure, but she usually isn't home until late in the afternoon."

Patricia held a straight face as she walked past him, her hips swinging a little more than they naturally did. She didn't give him another glance as she removed her belt and dropped it to the ground. She slowly unzipped the back of her skirt as she glanced over her shoulder. Simon remained seated on the couch, but his fists were balled and his eyes were blazing. His chest rose and fell as she zoned in on the strong outline of his desire through his pants.

She blew him a kiss before turning around and stepping out of her skirt.

**********

Gabriella

Ella contemplated her nails. She had never really cared for that sort of thing, but maybe a manicure with her mom wouldn't be the end of the world. She didn't really have girlfriends, so the whole concept made her nervous. Sitting with another woman and talking about life. She'd rather do that with Simon. She felt herself around him.

She bit the hangnail from her pinky.

"Ow, shit." She shook off the sting and scanned the parking lot. A sigh escaped her, knowing that she had been sitting in Nolan's car for almost two hours. Never in a million years did she imagine being the girlfriend to a jock. Screw them, yeah, why not? But date one of them, she just never pictured it. In high school she avoided them like the plague until they came sniffing around while their girlfriends heads were turned.

But at least they had been honest with her. She knew where she stood with them. With Simon, had she really read all of his signs wrong? Did he really not care about her?

Ella removed her sneakers and oversized long-sleeved shirt, leaving her with a tight white tank top underneath. She tilted the seat back and placed her feet on the dashboard. At least today was a little warmer than it had been.

She closed her eyes, hoping that thoughts of Simon would fade away.

"Hey, Ella."

She knew that voice. Just the slow pronunciation of her name irritated her.

"Hey, Bryan," she said, looking up and shielding her face from the sun. His black hair was shiny and slightly curled from being wet.

He smiled. "What's a sexy girl like you doing out by yourself?"

"Waiting on Nolan. Is he coming out?"

"Yeah, I think he was talking to coach about something."

"Oh." Ella faced the window hoping Bryan would take a hint.

"So...you hooking up with my boy now?"

"Kinda none of your business, is it?"

"Hey, chill out. He already questioned me about it. I told him we fucked once so have at it."

"Gee, thanks."

"Well, I could have told him more."

"Like what?" Ella asked.

"Well, how you like to do friends. And cousins, brothers...whatever," he said with a smirk.

Ella closed her eyes and held up her middle finger.

"I wish," she heard him say.

"Bryan, why don't you go bother Rebecca?"

"She's at some sorority meeting." He sounded annoyed. But that was Rebecca. It's as if she watched Mean Girls for for the purpose of learning how to be a complete and utter bitch. Asshole boyfriend? Check. Group of Cronies? Check. Joining every social group for popular girls so you can rule the world? Check.

Bryan squatted and folded his arms over the windowsill. The shoulder area of his white polo shirt was wet and a clean soap smell filled her nose. He rested his chin on top of his arms. "She really doesn't like you, you know."

Of course she knew. Rebecca wanted everyone to know. She had made that clear back in high school when she began spreading every rumor in the book about her. Ella had thought going away to college would change it, but it hadn't. It had only worsened over the years. "I give a shit?"

He shrugged. "She said you two used to be best friends until you fucked like half the basketball team or something."

"I'm sure she did say that."

"Well then tell me, why do you hate each other now?"

"Bryan, seriously, why do you care? I know you don't want us to make up and be besties, especially not now."

"Oh, this isn't just about you two...this is about me. If you guys are friends again, maybe I could talk her into a threesome." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as Ella pushed his arms away from the window.

"Go away."

He laughed. "I'm just playing with you. Besides, I know Becca...she was just jealous of you."

"Right," Ella said slowly. "She had everything...what on earth would make you think that?"

"Because she talks about you all the time. Even now. 'I hate that slut' and 'she thinks she's so hot'," Bryan mimicked in a high pitched voice. "Gets old after a while."

Ella took in this information but refused to think too hard on it. Rebecca was in the past. "Whatever."