I’ve seen her call him at two in the morning. I’ve seen her hold his hand with an intimacy far beyond what one might expect from colleagues, acting coquettishly as if there was no one else in the room.
It made me deeply uncomfortable, this familiarity that blurred professional boundaries. But James never seemed to think there was anything wrong.
When I voiced my concerns, he dismissed them outright, his tone tinged with frustration.
"I teach with Ms. Hughes. We have a lot to handle every day. You can’t keep projecting your suspicions onto me just because you’re overly sensitive."
His words stung, each one a blade that chipped away at my resolve. I stood there, silent, his voice dragging me back to the present.
"Am I sensitive?" I asked, my voice shaking with disbelief and hurt.
He sighed, pulling me into his arms, his tone softening as if to soothe me.
"Okay, okay. I’m not as free as I was during school, and I don’t have as much time to coax you anymore. Be good, alright?"
He leaned down to kiss me, but I turned my face away, my hands clenched tightly by my sides.
"So, are you going to see her now?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He paused for a moment, then replied,