The Candidate's Affair (6 page)

I didn’t wait to continue the conversation. I ran through the magnolia tree and landed on the other side as if I were Alice coming back through the looking glass. I thought I heard Paxton calling my name, but I punched in the garage code and ducked under the rising door.

Oh my God. I covered my mouth and rushed to our room. I could hear Spencer’s snores from the bedroom door. I crept inside and pulled my shirt over my head, turned on the shower, and stepped in. I scrubbed my entire body twice. I couldn’t shake the urge to throw up.

I toweled off and slipped into bed next to Spence. He nuzzled into my neck, but never opened his eyes. I started to shake while the tears rolled off my cheeks onto the pillow. I had just undone everything that glued us together.

The next morning I stumbled to the kitchen in search of the coffee pot. There was a note next to one of my new mugs.

Celebration dinner tonight. My treat. Promise I won’t be late.

—S

I thought I was going to be sick. Everything came back in violent flashes. The feel of another man’s breath on my neck. His mouth claiming mine. The way I let him touch me. The way I reached for him.
Oh, God.
I dropped to the floor, Spence’s note fluttering with me.

I wanted it to be a dream. One of those fantasy dreams that all married women have but we don’t act on. The innocent kind where it can be torrid and elicit, but you wake up telling yourself you would never actually do it. I wanted it to be something I could wash down the drain with the shower, but instead it clung to me like dirt.

Pepper nosed the side of my cheek, reminding me he still needed to go outside. I picked myself off the floor and unlocked the door.

I could see the magnolia tree. The branches hung low, heavy with waxy green leaves. The sour pit flipped in my stomach. It had happened only feet away from my back door and
I
let it.

I had to tell Spencer. He needed to know. I shoved the coffee away. He would be angry. It would hurt him like nothing else I had ever done, but we could get past it. It was a kiss and nothing else had happened. I stopped it. I ran. He would know that part too.

Spence would have that injured look on his face and he might even want to sleep in the guest room for a few nights. I could live with that. I deserved it after what I had done. However, I couldn’t lose him. He would probably blame the wine. Four glasses was way too many. He would blame Paxton. Sleazy politician. All of it sounded likely. I would wait until after dinner and just lay it out there.

I didn’t know what words could make it right, but I had to find them.

My phone buzzed on the counter. It was a text from a number not programmed in my contacts.

I’m sorry. Can we please talk?

I stared in disbelief at the message on the screen. The notepad. I had given Paxton my number yesterday before book club. My hands shook.

No. I can’t. I have to go to work.

I wasn’t sure why I had responded. Instinct told me to ignore him, cut all communication from this point. If he came to the neighborhood Christmas party, I would walk into the next room. If he came to the next book club, I would quit. If he needed someone to get his mail while he was out of town, I’d ask Tina instead.

My phone buzzed again.

Just 5 minutes. You can stop by on your way out. Promise it will be quick.

I read it twice.

I opened the door for Pepper. He had found an old dirty tennis ball under the deck and dropped it by my feet. “Gross, dog. Why can’t you bring in nice things like flowers?” I lobbed it over the railing.

Ok.

I sent the text before the next roll of nausea hit me. I was acting like a thrill junkie, needing my next fix on a toxic hit.

I hurried to my closet and threw on a tank top with a pair of shorts. No point in dressing up for cleaning out the classroom. I gathered my hair in a ponytail and turned off the light. I poured my coffee into a to-go mug and collected my messenger bag.

It was already eighty-five degrees outside at 8 a.m. We were in for a scorcher of a summer. I charged across the driveway and through the shortcut to Paxton’s yard. I scowled at the magnolia tree. It didn’t look as torrid in the morning.

I pounded on the front door.

Within seconds, Paxton was standing in front of me.

“Good morning. Come on in.” He moved to the side.

“No, we can talk here.” I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if Mrs. Ellerby was watching us through her kitchen window.

His face looked drawn. I guessed he didn’t sleep well last night either.

“I think it would be better to talk inside. Five minutes. I swear.”

A pair of joggers waved from the sidewalk. I could hear bits of their conversation as they passed the house.

“Ok, but five minutes. I have to get to school.”

“Five minutes.” He closed the door behind me as soon as I entered the foyer.

I backed up, wanting him to know I wasn’t going to follow him into the house. This was far enough.

He exhaled. “Look. I wanted to apologize for last night.”

“Don’t say anything.” I shook my head. It was better if we pretended it didn’t happen.

“I need to say something. It was a shitty thing to do. I never should have kissed you, no matter how much wine we had.” His eyes were heavy with remorse.

“I get it. Me too.” I turned for the doorknob. Two minutes alone with Paxton were too many. It was already happening again. The air felt different. My heart thudded against my chest. I had to get out of here.

“It’s just—I—” He sat on the bottom step of the staircase, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t met anyone since Sarah died that I’ve connected with, and I’m kicking myself that I thought we had some kind of connection. It was wrong. I know you’re married.” He hadn’t looked up from the floor yet to face me.

“I am. Very married.”

“It’s not like I do that all the time. I just want you to know that.”

“You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone if that’s what you’re implying. I’m not interested in hurting your campaign.”

“God, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” His eyes flared. “I’m trying to apologize. I can’t explain how or why I have feelings for a woman I just met. For you. I’ve screwed this up.”

“It wasn’t just you.” I had clung to him too. Sought his body in the dark.

“I hope we can be friends.”

“Friends?” The word sounded silly on my lips.

“Yes, friends. Neighbors.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” I shook my head. The longer I stayed in his house and talked, the more I wanted it to go on. Standing close to him lit something in me.

“If you want me to leave you alone, I can do that, but I was hoping we could move past this. Call it a mistake. Call it a lonely widower doing something impulsively wrong that he’ll never forgive himself for.”

“I’ve got to go to work. This never happened.”

“I’m sorry, Audrey.” He stood and took a step.

Before he could take a second one, I slammed the door behind me. I glanced across the street and thought I saw Mrs. Ellerby’s curtains ruffle.

The magnolia scratched my arm as I tore past it. I rushed to work and spent the day tossing artwork in the trash, cleaning out my desk, and scrubbing the desks. It felt good cleaning the goo and pencil marks off the Formica tops. The harder I pressed, the cleaner they looked.

I didn’t look at the clock until I heard the last bell ring for the day. The school kept them on schedule all year, whether students were in the building or not.

I never expected to get my choice school when I applied for teaching positions. It wasn’t a secret there was a teaching shortage, but the senior teachers wanted Charleston Oaks and it was one of the harder jobs to land.

Spencer never doubted for a second things would fall into place for us.

“I’m at a new firm, and we just got back from our honeymoon. Of course you’re going to get that job.”

“But, the only experience I have is student teaching. Charleston Oaks doesn’t usually take first-year teachers.” I was preparing myself for the bad news.

Spencer tapped the tip of my nose. “This is our year, babe. The perfect year for both of us.”

I loved how Spencer saw the good in every situation. He didn’t doubt. He didn’t question that the right thing would happen. That was what made him such a good attorney. He believed his clients wholeheartedly. He would defend and fight for them no matter the case. I thought the other partners in the firm took advantage of Spence. They would pass off the cases no one else would touch, but brought in big money, racking up billable hours.

Spence was right. I got the job at Charleston Oaks. Actually, I interviewed at all four schools that were hiring. In the end, I was able to take my pick.

I loaded a box of items in my backseat and headed home. I kept my eyes forward when I neared Paxton’s driveway. I had managed to avoid thinking about last night and our conversation this morning for most of the day.

I closed the garage door, sealing myself inside the house. The blinds were drawn in the kitchen and I couldn’t see that damn magnolia tree.

Paxton would forget about it. Men didn’t dwell on things like this.

He’d meet a pretty, single girl. Someone who loved to listen to his political theories. A girl who wanted her picture in the paper and didn’t mind standing next to him during press conferences. She’d be polite and educated, probably from an upstanding family like his. Yes, he’d forget me. He’d forget the night under that magnolia. He had to.