“Breakfast is good,” I said, pouring some syrup over my waffle. “Thanks.”
Hansen nodded and finally looked up at me, but not for long. A second later, he dropped his gaze again and didn’t look up for the rest of breakfast. And while the guys had already forgotten about his strange mood, turning instead to polish the bacon from their plates, I couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that something was really wrong.
After breakfast, I took the dishes to the sink and started to load the dishwasher as the crew filed out to begin their morning routine. Others went home to sleep. Hansen was the last one to leave, and I couldn’t help but notice the distance between us as he piled dirty dishes onto the counter for loading.
“Hey,” I asked after a few minutes of heavy silence. “Are you really okay? Something seems off.”
“I’m fine.” He said, but he still didn’t look at me.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“Yeah, well, I am.” He finally met my gaze, but there was no warmth in his eyes, only wariness. A complete 360 from his attitude last night. “Isn’t your shift over? You can go home, you know.”
“I know,” I said, trying not to sound too annoyed. “I’m just not sure I want to put up with Jeremy’s shit right now.” It was the first time I’d even mentioned Jeremy’s name in the station—it sounded weird.
“He’s your fiancé,” Hansen said, and I swear I could sense a hint of bitterness in his tone. “That’s what you signed up for when you said yes.”
“Whoa.” I dropped the dish I’d been holding back into the sink, caught off guard. “That was both unexpected and extremely unprofessional. What’s your problem?”
“What, the truth?”
“My personal life.”
“You brought it up.”
I couldn’t argue because I knew I had. Even if I did want to kick Hansen in the knee.
“Where is all of this coming from?” I asked instead. “Why are you being an asshole suddenly? I thought you already forgave me for what happened the other day.”
“That was both unexpected and extremely unprofessional,” Hansen said, scolding me just like I’d done him.
“What was?”
“Calling your boss an asshole.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I meantCaptainAsshole.”
Neither of us said anything for another few minutes, and the only sound in the room was the clank of the dishes as I rinsed the last of them and started the washer. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I had the feeling that he didn’t, either. Finally, after the last little bit of counter had been scrubbed and the final dish loaded, Hansen spoke.
“I’m serious, Hill,” he said. “Go home and spend some time with Jeremy. Becoming a workaholic is a dangerous thing. You’ll end up losing him if you don’t.” He turned away from me and walked out of the room, leaving me staring after him like an idiot with my mouth slightly agape.
* * *
Hansen’s odd demeanor was still on my mind when I arrived home later that morning. But I wanted to take his advice seriously and try to make up with Jeremy. He was my fiancé, the man I loved, the one I planned to marry and spend the rest of my life with. We had to see if we could work this out, and I knew we couldn’t avoid it forever. Something had to change.
Jeremy would be at the school until after five, so I tidied up the house. I ran down the street to the store for some groceries; a case of Jeremy’s favorite beer, a bottle of wine for me, oysters, crackers, fancy cheese, and some chocolate-dipped strawberries that I hoped would help aid fix whatever issues we still had between us. I hopped on the treadmill for an hour and then showered before slipping into a sleek and revealing black dress, which I knew was Jeremy’s favorite, despite my hesitance to ever wear it. At five, I lit some candles around the house and uncorked the wine, ready for him when he walked through the door.
A half an hour passed, and I looked at my cell phone, wondering where in the hell he was. At five-forty-five, I texted him to ask if he was on his way home. A few minutes later, he texted me back.
Working late. Sry baby. Don’t wait up.
Damnit.
I tossed the phone aside and swallowed my disappointment. My eyes flickered around the house at the silly, romantic gesture I’d tried so hard to pull off. I was about to take a chug of the wine but then thought better of it and corked the bottle, slipping on my sluttiest high-heeled shoes. If Jeremy couldn’t tear himself away from the office, I could surprise him at work, just like we used to do when we first met. Once upon a time, I loved watching him clack away on his computer or seeing his brow furrowed in concentration as he read a student’s paper on the Civil War. Seeing him work, my brilliant, articulate boyfriend had been such a turn-on. I missed that.
I drove to campus in the stupid little black dress and parked near the History building, toting the bottle of wine and the six-pack under my arm as I made my way inside. It was almost six, so the place was deserted as I crossed the dimly lit hall, footsteps echoing down the corridor. The place was eerily quiet as I tried to remember where Jeremy’s office was. A janitor with a mop, bucket, and headphones glanced at me briefly as I passed, raising his hand in a polite wave. I smiled and nodded back, turning the corner towards the little group of doors I knew were some of the professor’s offices. I found Jeremy’s door and reached for the handle, but not before I smoothed out my dress and checked my lipstick in my compact mirror. Then, smiling, I twisted the handle and pushed it open.
I should have expected what came next, honestly. Even so, the breath left my lungs as I stood in the doorway to Jeremy’s office and stared at the scene unraveling before me. Jeremy, standing with his pants around his ankles, leaned against his workspace desk as a young woman with dark hair kneeled in front of him, her hands wrapped around his penis, ready to fuck him. As the door opened, Jeremy and the woman scrambled in shock to cover themselves.
