Page 42 of Kismet

The fact that this was her first concern above all just proves my point.

“I’m not saying one of us needs to move out tomorrow. We have stuff to figure out with the house. It’ll give us both time to figure out what we want to do… separately.” I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into me, as tears of my own fall silently.

Despite how incompatible we are for one another, despite hownotin love we are anymore, and despite these intense growing feelings I have for someone else, it doesn’t negate the love I hold for Aida. She was my first love and we’ve been together for half our lives. It’s the end of an era, and it’s sad, regardless of the facts.

Wiping her eyes, she looks up at me, honey eyes shining with moisture and swimming with defeat. “You want to sell the house?”

“Well, yeah. It would make the most sense. You’re not working, and getting half of the money would probably help you figure out what you’re going to do. And I can buy a new house on my own.”

“I can’t fucking believe you, Stone,” she seethes. “After all these fucking years, you’re just kicking me out.”

What?!Has she been listening at all? “Aida… I said we don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

“I can’t deal with this right now. I need to go to bed.” She stands and walks off, and I’m left wondering if we were even a part of the same conversation.

I don’t know where we’re going to go from here, but a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, knowing that I at least got that off my chest. I head to my office and lose myself in grading for the next several hours. By the time I head up for air, it’s after eleven. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I have a few texts from Cash. We’ve spent a lot of time together over the last two months. Almost every weekend, we find ourselves at the fields, lying under the stars and talking about life.

Keeping this a secret is becoming increasingly difficult. Every single time we’re in class together, all I want to do is hold him, kiss him, breathe him in, and show him off. None of which I can do without losing my job. Hell, just the other day in my office after class, we ended up making out, completely forgetting where we were, and another student almost caught us. Thankfully, they knocked before opening the door.

We tip-toe around what we’re doing, but whatever it is, is growing stronger by the day. There isn’t a single day that goes by that I don’t speak to him one way or another, whether we see each other in class, or we’re texting or FaceTiming, or falling asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms under the night sky.

I talk to and see him more than I do Aida, and we live together. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve talked to Cash more in the last few months than I’ve talked to my wife inyears.I still feel extremely guilty about cheating on her, but when I’m around him, I lose my sense to care. It’ll be better once we’re divorced, I’m sure. I bring my attention back to my phone, a smile plastered on my face while I read his messages.

Cash: Your girl, Whitney Houston, was playing at Target today. Should’ve been there.

Cash: I finished grading Professor Dillion’s class papers. Fuck that whole class.

The school still doesn’t have a replacement for Professor Dillion, so we’re stuck grading her papers this semester too. I’m going to miss having him as my aide in the fall. Even if we weren’t sleeping together, I’d still miss having his help in class. He’s smart as hell, and a total natural at teaching. He’s made my job much easier this year.

Me: You’re never going to let me live that song down, are you?

Cash: Hell no, teach. Not a chance.

Me: What’re you doing, Bambi?

Cash: The frat’s having a party, so I’m partying.

Cash: You?

Me: Just finished grading papers.

Cash: BORING.

Me: Can I see you? For a little bit?

Cash: You’ll have to come to the frat. I can’t drive. But yes.

Me: Now an okay time?

Cash: Sure.

Nerves rush through me like a tidal wave. Now that I’ve talked to Aida, and us splitting up is out there, things with him feel immediately different. Like what I thought could never be, can maybe be after all.

Grabbing my keys and wallet, I head to the garage, and opt to take the bike tonight. It’s a clear night, not too cold, and the open road on a motorcycle sounds amazing. The ride over doesn’t take too long, and I don’t spend much time going over what I may want to tell him. Once I park a little down the street from his house, making sure no one sees me, I pull out my phone and let him know I’ve arrived.

Not even five minutes later, he’s strolling over to where I’m standing. My throat feels coated in chalk as I take him in. He’s such a beautiful fucking man, and I want him to be all mine.Does he want that too?

“Hey, teach,” he drawls, stopping right in front of me. His eyes are glazed, giving away the alcohol he’s consumed tonight.“Looking sexy on that bike.”

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