The Original Sinners: The Red Years. Tiffany Reisz

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СКАЧАТЬ a terrible moment Zach considered his options. There were some things he simply did not talk about. But they’d come so far now…it would be a more difficult journey back than forward. Zach took a few short, shallow breaths and used the street sounds below to orient himself.

      “Grace was eighteen when we met.” He gave up the words like precious possessions to a thief. “I was…older.”

      “You were teaching at Cambridge then, yes?”

      “Yes.”

      “Grace was your student?”

      Zach swallowed hard. “Yes.”

      “That explains why my relationship with Wes made you so uncomfortable at first. Déjà vu, right? It seems so unlike you, getting involved with a student.”

      “All teachers nurse attractions to the occasional student. I never intended to act upon it. Grace was lovely beyond words, twice as bright and talented as any student I’d ever taught. She wrote poetry, good poetry. No eighteen-year-old in history has ever written good poetry. But she did.”

      “What else did she do?”

      “She brought me her poetry sometimes and asked for my opinion, my help.”

      “You were her editor.”

      Zach laughed bitterly.

      “I suppose I was.”

      “She loved you.”

      “As much as a girl of eighteen can love her thirty-one-year-old teacher. At the time, I simply assumed she cared only for her writing.”

      “Eighteen means she couldn’t buy booze in the States. It doesn’t mean she couldn’t love you.”

      “It does mean I shouldn’t have loved her back.”

      “But you did.”

      “Foolishly, yes.” His stomach churned as he relived that year, that nightmare of a year. “Or what passed for love at the time. But I never acted on it. I loved my work, loved teaching, loved my life.”

      “What happened?” Nora’s questions were as relentless as any assault.

      Zach took another breath. He never even allowed himself to think about that time, much less tell another soul about it. It was his burden alone.

      “I was in my office late on a Friday night. I had a hundred exams to grade that weekend. I suppose I’d complained about this in class. Somehow she knew I’d be there.”

      “She came to your office?”

      “Yes. I was exhausted.” Suddenly Zach was back in that cramped third-floor office again. His sleeves were rolled up; his fingers were tinged with red ink. His head ached from the hours of reading, the endless concentration. He yawned, stretched, heard a noise in the hallway. “I heard footsteps in the hall and looked up. She was standing in my doorway.”

      “She came to your office late at night. Shall I assume the inevitable happened?”

      “It felt inevitable. She came inside without waiting for me to ask her. And then she closed the door behind her.”

      “What did she say?”

      “She said, ‘I don’t have any poems tonight.’”

      “And what did you say?”

      Zach exhaled. “I didn’t say anything at all.”

      “This shouldn’t be a bad memory for you. Tell me why it is.”

      “She was…” Zach stopped and let the silence speak for itself. Behind the blindfold he closed his eyes. He remembered how easily Grace came to him, how her body relaxed against his, how his hands fit her thighs as if they’d been made to press them open again and again. And then he recalled her gasp of pain, that brief intake of breath that told him all.

      “She was a virgin,” Nora said, filling in the blanks.

      “Yes.”

      “It’s not your fault that you didn’t know.”

      “It was my fault…” Zach began and felt the guilt on him again like a knife pressed to his throat. “It was my fault I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.”

      “Did she tell you to?”

      “No. But I should have anyway. I had dozens of lovers before then…but never…” Zach said and though the memory was an agony, his body remembered that moment. He could still feel himself inside her tight passage. “I’d never taken such pleasure inside the body of a woman before that night.”

      “Tell me what happened, Zach,” Nora demanded. She wouldn’t stop until he told her.

      “No, it wasn’t my fault I didn’t know she was a virgin. But it was my fault she got pregnant.”

      “Jesus Christ,” Nora said, sounding both shocked and sympathetic for the first time. Zach was almost afraid of the next question.

      “You don’t have any children so I’ll assume it was one of three possibilities—adoption, abortion or miscarriage.”

      “It was ectopic. Worse than a miscarriage.”

      He heard Nora’s slight intake of breath, the wince of pain.

      “How bad was it?”

      “It almost killed her. She was so young she didn’t know what was normal and what wasn’t. She ignored the pain for a month. We’d only been married two weeks when she woke up in a pool of blood. One in a million chance, the doctor said, that a girl so young and healthy would suffer that. So young, he said, and he looked at me like a criminal. I felt like one. Eighteen years old and she’s hemorrhaging in the emergency ward. Eighteen years old and she has to marry a man over a decade her senior, a man hardly more than a stranger to her.”

      “What happened after?”

      Zach shook his head. “She survived. But I wasn’t sure we would or even if we should. I waited every day for her to tell me she was leaving me. We married because she was pregnant. Then she wasn’t. But she never left me. Still, that year was hell for us. I had a nineteen-year-old wife I barely knew who had to transfer to King’s College in London after I left Cambridge, left before they could fire me.”

      “But you stayed married.”

      “We did. How or why, I don’t know.”

      “Because she loved you, Zach. And because you loved her.”

      “I did. Not that it matters.”

      “Why doesn’t it?”

      “Because we’re over. She’s made that perfectly clear.”

      “How do you know it’s over?”

      “Because СКАЧАТЬ