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21
Luke
In the end, Natalie took not just the following day off, but the day after that being a Friday, she decided to spend that with me as well. Though being the honest “play it by the rules” kind of woman she was, she phoned the Dean and explained her situation with the divorce. In the end she took the days as personal leave rather than pretending to be sick, like the rest of the world would have.
Apart from gigs and rehearsals, and me returning to the apartment I shared with Arlo to grab fresh clothes, we spent four blissful days together like a real couple, until she returned to work the following Monday.
We went to the park for our picnic, like I’d suggested, but instead of reading Shakespeare, like Edward did for Vivian, she would quote me scenes from her favorite movies in between marking papers. Because, like her movie twin, she truly was a workaholic who could never quite fully switch off from work, no matter how much fun she was having.
We spent the vast majority of our time in bed, fucking, napping, and snacking as well as fitting in a few movie marathons. She introduced me to the world of French New Wave cinema, and we binged classics of the genre until our eyes were square, fucking, napping and snacking between each one. It was intellectually enlightening, physically stimulating, and emotionally challenging.
I never wanted it to end, but knew it would all too soon. How it would end, for “us” if there was even such a thing, I was entirely unsure. I knew what I felt, and to an extent what Natalie felt, but how the whole thing would play out was hard to predict, and pretty much out of control. Though I hated the fact, Natalie was clearly the one holding all the cards.
On Sunday night, the dread of the coming week and the future in general really started to set in. I had a knot at the base of my stomach—it was as though a physical ball made up the complex mix of emotions I was feeling had settled there like a rock at the base of a riverbed. I tried to focus on the positive—just having an incredible a woman like Natalie in my life. Someone who was so far out of my league it wasn’t even funny, but who for some reason saw something in me I wasn’t even sure I saw in myself. A woman who’d done the virtually impossible—occupied a space in my psyche I thought would only ever belong to Marnie. Unfortunately, those things didn’t stop the doubts from creeping in.
“Luke?” We were lying spread-eagled on the bed, coming down from an intense lovemaking session. I felt weird even thinking that phrase—making love, but this was definitely way more than screwing or fucking. Come to think of it, since we’d had the whole Pretty Woman chat days earlier, each time had been more intimate and emotionally charged than the time before.
“Yeah?” We were splayed on our stomachs, heads turned toward each other, and I was trying desperately to read her face, wanting to gauge what she might be about to say before she went ahead and said it. I’d been gently stroking her body with my fingertips, loving that a rash of goose bumps would erupt where I touched, but I held everything still, including my breath, waiting for her response.
“I can practically hear your mind turning over as you lie here. Your thoughts are loud.”
“I know. They are to me, too. I guess I know that in a few hours’ time we go back to reality, but at this point I don’t know what that reality looks like.” The unasked question was obvious in my careful choice of words. The ball was in her court, and we both knew it.
“I’m not Edward.” Her voice was level, giving no real clues to her meaning.
“What?”
“Pretty Woman. I’m not Edward Lewis. I mean I’m not Vivian either, but I’m definitely not him. He didn’t know what he was feeling, or what he wanted until way late in the game. I knew. I always knew, but I thought it was the wrong thing to want, you know?” She looked at me uncertainly, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“So I pushed those thoughts and feelings aside. But that’s not the same as not having them or not recognizing them. I’d like to believe I have a lot more emotional intelligence than that. In fact, what was holding me back was the long and terrifying list of reasons why contemplating what I was contemplating and feeling what I was feeling was such a very bad idea.”
“Yeah, but the thing is, that list can be ten miles long, and the whole thing can be eclipsed by just one good reason.”
“I still don’t know if you’re right about that. I just know that the more I thought about it, the more I was plagued by the feeling that love and relationships shouldn’t come with a laundry list of concerns and caveats, but that’s the only way we can even think about moving forward together.”
“Okay, so what’s your list?”
“You really want to know?”
“Sure I do.”
She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. I lay even stiller than I was before, counting the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. I was glad she was breathing—however heavily. That made one of us.
“My concern is that if this thing blows up, I’ll come off much worse than you. Not only do I have way more to lose, in terms of my career and my professional standing, but being a woman, my reputation in general would suffer if something like this were to get out, sexist though that is. The whole teacher-student thing is still so taboo, even though we’re both grown adults and we were… We knew each other before I was your lecturer.” She paused closing her eyes momentarily before speaking again.
“As the male in this scenario, and a rock star in the making, this would probably help your reputation in equal measure to the amount it would damage mine. In a nutshell, there are basically no repercussions for you, whereas I could lose everything.”
I searched her face, still unsure which way her thoughts were taking her.
“So?”
“So if we’re going to do this, it’s a huge leap of faith and a major act of trust for me. I’m putting my career, my reputation, my livelihood, and my professional and personal dignity in your hands.”
“If?”
“Yes, if. I’m going to need your word that you can do what I ask. One hundred percent of the time.”
“Okay, so ask.”
