Let Me Love You

Chapter 2

"So, do you know the girl there?" I asked Lucy as she drove us home. Harry was strapped in the backseat. 

"Who, Lisa?" she questioned. I nodded. "Yes, she's my student in Criminal Psychology. Nice kid."

"And the other girl who was at the counter?"

"Who, Regina?" Lucy glanced at me for a second. "Yeah, I guess."

"She's also a student in my class. That girl is full of ego and attitude."

I hummed, thinking about Lisa. Her name. Sweet girl. Kind girl. "And she's into, you know vagina." 

I snapped my head toward her. "Rachel, you cannot say V-A-G-I-N-A in front of Harry. He's a kid." I spelled out the word. She just shrugged and glanced back at him.

"He's in his own world. I'm pretty sure he didn't hear what I said." "Still, Lucy. NO."

"Okay, but do you realize she has a crush on you?" she continued.

"Luce, stop. She doesn't have a crush on me," I said, slumping back.

"Oh, believe me, she does. Don't you remember how she acted when she saw you? She stuttered, she froze, and she definitely checked you out." I knew it. She did check me out. It was obvious.

"Luce, she's a kid, probably 22 or something, And I am 30, single mother of a 7 year old. I hope now you understand why this matchmaking of your's is stupid" I said glaring at her, thinking how in the world can she even think about it.

"Actually, she's 21, in her last year of university," she interrupted.

"There, you prove my point. Don't tell me you're trying to set me up with a kid. Are you that desperate to hook me up with someone? I don't force you to date anyone," I said, slightly irritated.

She stopped the car in my driveway and turned to me. "Because at least I get some. I'm just saying it's been a long time. You need someone—"

"Enough. I'm tired of this. You're talking about moving on from my husband's death, who died, what, three years ago? I still love him, Lucy. You cannot just ask me to go on and continue my life with a stranger okay? If I want to I will move on, So please, for God's sake, don't try to set me up or push me," I said, getting out of the car and unbuckling Harry, who probably heard our argument.

I walked into the house with Harry running upstairs. "Harry, games only for 20 minutes, then you have to sleep, baby."

"Yes, Mom," he replied, and I heard his door shut.

"Hey, I'm sorry for pushing you. It's just that I'm worried about you. But you're right, it's your choice, not mine," Lucy said, walking in and placing her tote bag on the sofa before inviting herself to the wine cellar. "I'm having red wine. Want some?" she yelled.

"Yes," I replied. I sighed, sitting down on one of the long chairs, raking my fingers through my hair.

"Here, my lady," Lucy said, handing me my glass of red wine. Taking a sip, I looked up to find her staring back at me.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" she asked, gulping her wine in one go, making me raise my eyebrows at her action.

"Uhh, well, I have some planning to do, check some files, and I have an online interview for a job with better pay. After that, I'm free for the day," I said.

"Lucky you. I have 40 research papers to grade and return to my students by tomorrow," Lucy replied, standing up and slinging her tote bag over her shoulder.

"Mommy!" Harry screamed, running down the stairs.

"Harry, no running!" I scolded.

"Sorry, Mom," he said sheepishly, then turned to Lucy. "Aunty Lucy, what's a vagina?"

My eyes popped out, and I choked on my wine. "Okay, that's my cue to leave now," Lucy said, walking away.

 "Lucy Taylor, you are in big trouble!" I yelled.

"Bye, Rach. Bye, Harry. Aunty Lucy loves you!" she called out as she left.

I stood up, grabbing hold of Harry's shoulder. "Baby, you don't ever say that word again, okay?"

He nodded and ran away. I exhaled a deep breath of frustration, placed the wine glass in the sink, and walked to the office room. Opening the door, I stepped in and closed it behind me, leaning my back against it. I looked to my side and saw our family picture: me, Henry, and Harry. Our little family. We promised to be there for each other forever, but fate had other plans.

I walked up to the picture on the wall between the shelves filled with books. We were happy; he was alive. He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be here and witness Harry's first day of school. "Henry, Harry has grown up," I said, staring at the picture, looking straight at him. I swallowed back a sob lodged in my throat. "Today, he asked Lucy...what's a vagina?'" I chuckled, replaying the scene in my mind. With his innocent look, you could think he was asking if it was a chocolate brand or clothing. "I swear, if you were here, you'd be laughing your ass off right now." As if a switch flipped, my laughter turned to silent sobs in seconds. "But you aren't here, Henry. You aren't."

I sobbed, feeling the loneliness, the helplessness, the yearning for someone who cared. "I'm scared, Henry. I—"

"Mommy, where are you?" Harry's voice interrupted. I quickly wiped my tears, composing myself. "Coming, baby." I took one last glance at the picture frame and walked out of the room.

Lisa Pov

"Class, I need all of your assignments on my desk before you leave," Miss Taylor announced, closing her laptop. I stood up, grabbed my books and laptop, and stuffed them into my bag. As I walked up the stairs to put my assignment on her desk, Regina, ever the troublemaker, shoved me, causing me to stumble.

"Miss Smith, I suggest you watch where you're going or ask your dad to buy you some glasses so you can see clearly. Am I clear?" Miss Taylor said, glaring at Regina.

"Yes, ma'am," Regina replied quickly, dropping her assignment on the desk before storming off, not without giving me a glare. Strange. Why is she glaring at me when she's the one who pushed me? I just shrugged and walked up to the desk to submit my assignment.

"You okay?" Miss Taylor asked.

I nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly implying, Oh, you know why.

"That? She does it every time. I don't mind it. Let me tell you a secret: sometimes I think she likes me too much, and that's why she annoys me. Who knows," I whispered conspiratorially.

Miss Taylor chuckled. "So, is she your type?" she asked, smirking.

I grinned. "Her? Nah, I prefer older women, not my age."

Her eyebrow shot up, as if she was surprised. "Ah, so older women with ginger hair are your type?" she said slyly, as if she had caught onto something.

I opened my mouth to respond but froze. My smile vanished. She knew. It felt like I had been caught stealing. But I quickly recomposed myself. "I mean, admiring a hot and beautiful woman isn't a crime. And no offense, but you are hot. Too bad you're my professor, or I would have flirted with you too."

"Ah, so I get to be hot, and my friend gets to be hot and beautiful," she replied, mocking me. Before I could say anything, she laughed, gathering all the submitted assignments. "It's okay, I was just messing with you. Go to your next class."

I nodded, smiling slightly. Too bad I can't flirt with her too; she's married.