Paint Me, Professor | Student-Professor Erotic Novel | 18+ | ✔️

76 - Time

Alison
***

Time heals all wounds. That's what people say at least. I believe there are wounds that never heal one hundred percent, like a broken bone that never entirely fuses back together or a scar that can never be erased from the skin.

Five years is a long time, but not enough to erase from your mind a traumatic experience like the one I went through. However, I was absolutely convinced my wound would heal eventually. The signs of me moving forward were evident. It wasn't just my therapist who saw it, but my parents too. I started to feel my confidence grow during my bachelor in New York, and leaving that place to go to the other side of the country made wonders to help me move on from my past. The person I was five years ago was so distant she was barely an acquaintance now.

What happened between Chris and I on that awful night was a direct result of me not being open and honest with him. I should have discussed my limits with him but my embarrassment kept my trauma a secret. My behavior didn't surprise me though: after all, looking back, when I was eighteen I could barely speak about what happened. My therapist had to dig it out of me and make me go through grueling sessions where sometimes I'd just cry, wondering how I let myself be put in that situation. As years went by, I started to lose the fear of going to parties, of flirting with men, of dancing with them even. The wound was healing, and as time went by, I could see changes every day.

This is what I explained to Chris when he dropped me off at home that Saturday afternoon. We usually spent the whole weekend together but I needed time to heal the wound which was reopened when Chris took it too far.

He didn't seem disappointed or hurt by my decision, a stark contrast from how he reacted when I asking him to leave me alone after Kent caught us in his office. This time there were no tears, no shouting, no apologies. We both knew this was for the best. It was for me to heal so when I came back I'd come back stronger.

"I'm going to call my therapist on Monday," I said to him as he drove. "I'll keep you updated on how I'm feeling."

I didn't want him to feel I was pushing him away. In fact, there were moments when I completely forgot that night and all I wanted was him. However, the undeniable truth was that deep down what he did to me changed the way I reacted to him, and I couldn't allow that. I would not allow my fucked up instincts to make me run from him, to be afraid of him, to flinch from his caring touch.

Chris was silent for most of the ride, only agreeing with certain observations I made along the way. There was no denying this whole situation was painful for him, and I was sure the regret was eating him alive. I reassured him by holding his hand over the gear stick.

When he parked in front of my apartment, I didn't open the door right away. This goodbye was fucked up in so many ways, and I was both relieved and anxious for leaving him.

"Chris, don't worry, it won't be for long," I said, turning to him. "I just need to get my mind figured out."

He reached for my head and pulled me to him, landing his lips on my forehead.

"You need this Ali," he whispered. "It might be hard in the beginning, but you need this. I know this separation will be good for me, too. I need to get my mind figured out as well."

I placed my hands on his collarbones, inching forward to kiss him before leaving. Chris didn't lean forward to meet me, but kissed me tenderly once our lips touched. He pulled back first and as soon as our eyes met I knew this was going to be harder than I thought.

***

We went a whole week without speaking. I was secretly hoping that he'd text me or call me at night to check on me, but he never did. I understood his behavior though, he wanted to make sure he was giving me all the space I needed.