Page 13 of Good Intentions, Vol. 1

Chapter Seven

Heather

What the fuck have I done? Standing in the shower trying to wash all that happened away, I hear my phone ringing. Usually, I would jump out and answer it, since it could be only one person calling, but now I’m not so sure. Last night, after he whispered those words in my head, things got awkward. Or maybe they were awkward because the reality of what we had done started to invade? I don’t know, what I do know is, I got dressed and walked out of that office with my cheeks burning and without a word said. All the while Nicks eyes tracked my every movement. He didn’t say anything either, didn’t stop me from going. And he didn’t threaten to fire me if I breathed a word of what we had done to anyone. It was understood without saying anything that no one can know about this. Then I woke up to a message on my phone.

Good morning pretty girl, how are you feeling?

I dropped my phone like a hot potato and ran to the shower. Now, standing here I’m debating what to do. Should I go to work and see him today, acting like nothing happened? Like my world didn’t shift, and I haven’t broken all my beliefs? Or should I call in sick, try to find another job, and eventually quit leaving this mess behind me? One thing that won’t stop are images from last night.

His face, his voice, his hands on me... him inside me...

And every time they catch me unguarded, my knees buckle, I get wet and I must... just must put my hand between my legs and get some relief. I’ve never masturbated so much in my life, as I had in the last twelve hours. I thought after I had him one time, just this once, it would get easier, I would get him out of my system, take a bite from the forbidden fruit, and go my way. I didn’t count on this lust to intensify. I didn’t think that the knowledge of how it would feel, how he would feel, would be a much bigger torture, then what imagining how it would all feel were. That it would wake up the cravings

.

Hearing my phone start ringing for the second time, I shut down the water, step out and wrap my towel on the way to my bedroom to answer it. I can’t hide forever. With whatever I decide I will have to face him eventually. There’s no denying the relief that courses through me seeing Erin’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey,” I answer.

“What’s wrong?”

I could never understand how she can know that something is wrong just by hearing me say one word. I gave up bullshitting her a long time ago and decided to get over whatever was bothering me quickly, to save time.

“I don’t wanna tell you,” I admit.

“That may be the truth, but you’re gonna tell me anyway,” she sing-songs. “So, spill.”

There’s no reason not to. She is my only friend in the whole world. After what happened, happened, everyone just shut me out, no one wanted to be even near me. They all blamed me as if I had done it. Only Erin stuck by my side. Being there for me whenever I needed her, doing everything in her power to help me live a normal life despite the situation. And when I finally came to her, after weeks of her begging me to tell her what’s going on and admitted that I can’t be there anymore. I can’t live with that stigma for one more second and can’t have another asshole stomp all over my heart just because they associated me with what happened. I had to leave. I had to leave that godforsaken town and never look back. She didn’t do what I expected, shutting the door in my face, calling me all those names that constantly surrounded me. No. She hugged me, told me she would be there for me every step of the way, calling me every day, and coming to visit as much as it was possible, and when do I need to pack. She stayed true to her word. She calls every day, and in a year, I’ve been here, she came twice. Sometimes we talk three times a day, and our chat box is always open. The one I ended up doing what I did last night for.

“Remember when we joked about my boss....” I try to tell her without saying the words.

“Yes...”

“Well...”

“Well, what?”

“I did it,” I whisper looking around to confirm that I’m alone and nobody can hear me.

“You did what?”

“I slept with him,” just saying that out loud brings back the lust. And the guilt. “Jesus, Erin, I slept with a married man.”

“Was it good?” her question throws me. I just admitted that I did one of the biggest mistakes of my life. That I slept with someone’s husband, and she’s asking me if it was good?

“What?”

“I asked, was it good?”

“It was exceptional, but that’s not the point,”

“I know, honey. I know that you’re torn up about this. Especially with your track record, and what happened all those years ago. And I’m not going to say, yes, you go girl, because he is married. What I am going to tell you is, you’re my friend, I love you, and I know you’re not the kind of person to go and wreck a marriage. You’re not them, you’re not your parents,” she cooed in my ear. “Now, after that being said, I’m going to give you more. You did not go after him. All you did was fantasize about him, which is not a crime. If there wasn’t anyone fantasizing about a married man or woman for that matter, there wouldn’t be sex symbols in this world. You are kind, honey. You’re a good person. And if anyone should have thought about his relationship status, it was him.”

“Still... I did something horrible.” Her words are like balm to the wound, but I can’t just say no biggie.

“No, all you did, was giving in to weakness, to desire.”

“How can you justify all this?”