I went to see Chris late in the day when I knew most of the offices around his would be empty. You know that saying about feeling as if your heart is in your throat? That's exactly how I felt approaching his open door. I was showing up outside of his scheduled office hours, but I sensed he would be there.
Smoothing a hand over my shoulder-length brown hair, I glanced down at my outfit. My blue dress, while suitable for summer, was also modest, with a flowing, knee-length skirt. It was sleeveless, but the neckline revealed no hint of cleavage. My sandals were almost soundless against the tiled corridor floor.
When I reached Chris's doorway, he looked up expectantly. Gone was the warm smile he used to offer me. He barely managed one now, and it didn't reach his eyes. It now felt like my heart slipped from my throat to plummet toward the pit of my stomach.
"Do you have a minute?" I asked quietly. While I spoke, I was struck by the change in Chris. Though he was well into his forties, his dark hair had little gray. His form was lean and strong, and his hazel eyes normally shone with a brightness that made him appear far younger. But today, he looked exhausted. He also looked guilty, and that was all because of me.
Chris finally nodded, but when I entered his office and moved to close the door behind me, the way I always had before, he said, "Leave that open, please."
I briefly closed my eyes to hide the way his words wounded me. So the damage I'd done was irreparable. Still, I had to try to fix it.
As I sat down in the chair in front of his desk, he avoided looking at me. How many times had he invited me to pull this same chair around his desk so I could sit at his side? Back then, he'd trusted me. This man was my professor and mentor. He'd taught me so much, always encouraging me whenever I started doubting myself.
And I'd made the grave mistake of falling in love with him.
For months, I'd succeeded in hiding my feelings from him. But as graduation neared, my despondency grew, soon overpowering my excitement at earning my degree. Once I finished school, I'd be living and working in a city within easy driving distance of my hometown. Even if I stayed here, having a relationship with Chris was out of the question. He was married, and from what I could gather by studying the framed photo of him and his wife that he kept on his desk, the marriage was a happy one.
Just last week, on the day I'd so foolishly ruined everything, I'd invented an excuse to stop by Chris's office. Far from begrudging me these visits, he generously offered his time. And as I sat by his side, listening to him offer advice on some issue I pretended to be concerned about, I sneaked glances at that photo. It looked as if it had been taken while he and his wife were on vacation. They appeared relaxed, both sporting healthy tans, and a vast ocean formed the backdrop behind them. His wife was blonde and beautiful, with an ebullient smile.
In short, she was nothing like me. Studious and dedicated, I was the epitome of a mousy bookworm. I'd planned and worked toward my future with the utmost care, and I would soon be graduating summa cum laude.
Still, I couldn't banish my sadness, which sharpened into a pang of grief, when I imagined saying goodbye to Chris for the last time. While sitting at his desk that day, I struggled to conceal my emotions. For his part, he suspected nothing was amiss. Turning toward me, with his face just inches from mine, he said, "You're brilliant, Erin, and I know you'll do great things."
It was merely a kind and encouraging compliment, like so many others he'd given me. Yet it proved to be my undoing. When I leaned even closer to him, he looked mildly surprised but didn't pull away. I felt a strange wildness overtake me as I abandoned all caution and kissed his mouth.
At first, Chris froze. But then I heard him moan from low in his throat. I was certain he started to kiss me back.
Then he withdrew, his eyes wide with alarm. "I'm sorry," he said, though I was the one who had kissed him. "We can't do this."
I was mortified, lightheaded from humiliation. Sputtering an apology, I grabbed my things and fled his office.
Since then, I'd been in an agonized state, aware that I'd majorly fucked up and having no idea how to fix it. In class, I could barely look at Chris, and he seldom let his eyes meet mine. His face was blank, almost cold, during the brief moments when he regarded me.
Now, I knew I had one last chance to atone for my reckless behavior. After taking a deep breath, I began, "I want to say how sorry I am—"
"We can't have this discussion here," he said, his stare drifting toward the door.
"We can if you allow me to close the door. Please, Chris." Long ago, he'd told me I could call him by his first name when we were outside of class, and I prayed I wasn't overstepping by doing so now.
He studied me for a long moment before again nodding. Once I closed the door, giving us some privacy, I returned to my chair. Resting my folded hands on his desktop, I couldn't hide the sorrow I felt, but I was determined to handle this in a mature way.
"I feel horrible about what I did," I told him in a voice just above a whisper. Despite his reservations, he leaned toward me, his gaze softening a little. "I can't deny I've developed deep feelings for you, Chris, but I never should have..." I struggled for the right words. "I never should have made an advance toward you." My lips quivered, and I had to look away while regaining my composure. "I've learned so much from you, and your support and encouragement mean more than I can say." I fought to speak past the lump of tears forming in my throat. "I'll hate myself if you're still angry with me when I graduate."
"I'm not angry, Erin." His tone was surprisingly gentle.
"So you can forgive me?" Though I quickly blinked back tears, Chris still saw them. He extended his hands, as if to reach for me.
"There's nothing to forgive! I'm the one at fault here."
My mouth dropped open. "No, you're not! I'm the one who—"
He only shook his head to stop me. "Throughout my career, I've been so careful. I've worked with countless students, and if anything, I've always been too cautious, too formal, in trying to maintain appropriate boundaries. But with you..." His expression grew distraught, and it was then that I realized how much he was struggling. "I sensed you were attracted to me, Erin. I see now that, in my own subtle way, I encouraged that attraction. Because I have feelings for you, too."
When Chris's eyes locked with mine, I grew flushed, my pulse racing. Right now, he wasn't looking at me as a student, or even as a friend; he was looking at me as a woman he desired.
It was my own fierce lust that made me climb to my feet and circle around the desk to stand at his side. Though I could hear his quickened breathing, he remained almost motionless.
"Soon, you and I will be saying goodbye. We'll probably never see each other again." Though my voice broke as I spoke those words, I managed to continue. "But before that door closes, Chris, I'll take whatever you're able to give me." With a trembling hand, I caressed his cheek. He leaned into my touch, as if he craved it. "If you can't give me anything, and you want me to leave you alone, I promise I will."