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I stare at the message on my screen as I lean against my kitchen island, waiting for my microwave meal to finish cooking. My appetite is suddenly gone. After our conversation during the race today and the ominous can we talk text, I know it’s not good.
Me: Yeah, of course. Now?
A moment after I hit send, my buzzer sounds.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.” I hold down the button and let him in.
“Sorry I once again just showed up here unannounced.” He steps inside, and I close the door behind him.
“It’s always a pleasant surprise.” I smile, attempting to hide the fear that is brewing inside me. “Coffee?” I ask, gesturing toward the fresh pot I just brewed.
“No, thank you.”
“So, you wanted to talk?”
He nods, shrugging off his coat and kicking off his shoes. A good sign, I think, meaning he plans to stay and not just ditch me and run.
“Can we sit?” I follow him to the couch, both of us taking a seat. “Thanks again for signing me up for that race. I mean it; I actually had fun… and not just training for it.” He smiles and it gives me hope. “I felt bad though. We were kind of having a serious discussion, or about to it seemed, when we finished and I got caught up in that interview.”
“No apology necessary. It wasn’t exactly the ideal time to have a serious conversation.”
He looks over at me, his one arm resting on the back of the couch, the other coming up to do that thing where he runs it over his jaw. Panic grips me. I already know what’s coming next and in a last-ditch effort to make him see that I’m worth it, that he should take a chance on me, I just blurt out the words… the words I’ve been holding in.
“I’m in love with you.”
His eyes give nothing away. He doesn’t flinch or seem surprised. He just looks at me, then calmly replies, “You shouldn’t be.”
“Why?”
“We both already know the answer to that, Presley. It’s not just one reason; it’s a multitude.”
“Why? Because you’re my professor? That’s ending. You’re not going to be my client after a few weeks. You’re too old for me? Who cares as long as neither of us do? I thought that you didn’t care what people thought, Cyrus?” I can feel my voice rising an octave as I fight back tears.
“It’s more than that. I know you don’t care that I’m older, but you’re twenty-five; you have a lifetime ahead of you and I won’t saddle you with being tied to someone like me, someone whose life is already laid out. It’s not like being with me is just about a few more people hating me or judging me for being with a younger woman; it’s about you. I’ve lived a life of being judged in the public eye. You haven’t and I won’t put you through that.”
“So that’s it? You just get to make my decisions for me?” I can feel myself becoming defensive, angry. “You know what’s best for me?”
“Yes, I have age and life experiences you’ve never had. I’ve told you so many times how terrible people can be, that they’ll destroy you?—”
“Is this about what happened to your father?”
He stills, his eyes narrowing at me. “What?”
“I know about him, Cyrus. I know about how he was fucked over by people; even his friends didn’t stand beside him.”
“No, that’s not what this is about, and frankly, that’s none of your business. My father was destroyed by?—”
“Not just your father,” I interrupt. “You let those people destroy you too. You’ve taken on this burden that isn’t even yours. You saw what happened to him and decided that the only way to prevent it from happening to you was to shut everyone out, to cut off any chance of happiness because if you have nothing to lose, they can’t take anything from you.”
I can’t hold back the tears any longer. He reaches over to hold my hand, but I pull it away.
“The messed-up part is, you do feel something for me. I’ve seen it in the way you look at me. You’re in love with me too and you think that you’re protecting me, but you’re hurting me and yourself. You thought that you were preventing others from ruining this, from taking away what we have, but you’re the one who’s doing it. You made me believe”—I choke on my tears—“you made me want things that I didn’t know I wanted. You made me believe that I could have those things with you because you wanted them too.”
I’m a mess. My vision is blurring through the tears. I swipe at them furiously but they’re falling faster than I can stop them. Cyrus reaches for me, this time pulling me into his arms. I don’t have the energy to fight. Instead, I sob into his chest as he rubs my back.
“I’m sorry.” He pulls back to look at me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I tried to be honest from the beginning, telling you that this couldn’t be more than just a physical thing between us.”
