「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(172) Hurdle

Lynn's POV

Endeavoring to remain respectful, I had exhausted subtle ways in rejecting interactions and even communications with my overly friendly neighbor who was genuinely kind, albeit far too eager for his own good. Noting the grounds that evoked my attempts, I maintained a firm stand of being mere acquaintances but it was no match for his adamance.

Across the weeks that Jean had stayed with me in Laughlin, James chatted with us everyday without fail as we made our way down the front porch. His unaffected thoughts indicated he truly never received any of my hints to sever our barely made ties as he diligently tagged along on our day trips around the city. Jean had no qualms walking around with the self-invitee, and I did not burden her with my insecurities or restricted her freedom to engage, only requesting that she kept up the story of my fabricated past and refrained from revealing her powers before the ignorant human.

Over the month, James proved to be expectedly helpful, providing us better insight to this predominately cordial town populated by an extraordinary number of Canadian-borned Asians, additionally introducing us to several other residents living in the vicinity to aid in my assimilation.

While he did not cease to bother us on a daily basis, he had miraculously matured, mellowing down his blatant desire to help the ones he deemed as less fortunate without consulting their wishes. His increasingly considerate behavior, indoctrinated by Jean who was fueled purely by her goodwill of making me more friends than foes in the foreign land I was soon to be left alone in, was certainly pleasing, yet my doubts prevailed.

Although my outrageous blunder had thankfully not repeated itself despite our continuous correspondences, my guilt had not diminished and no matter Jean's consolations, there was an inherent longing to preserve my fidelity, not to mention the overwhelming fear of reenactment, that prohibited me from letting down my guard against the man I had once accidentally mistaken as my husband and companion of decades.

"Lynn, c'mon. Give yourself a break. It was just an anomaly and you didn't mean for it to happen. He'll understand that it's not your fault. He won't blame you," Jean persistently coaxed, as she had done for the past fifteen minutes I had been in the kitchen, while I served up dinner in the sitting room that doubled up as tonight's makeshift dining area.

"That's exactly what makes it worse," I countered with bitterness, experiencing an intense rage rush through my veins for my own foolishness, as I laid down the tray of light dishes and swiftly transferred myself onto the other end of the couch from Jean where she had sprawled her body clothed in a set of kiddy pyjamas.

"He never blames me for anything. Even when it hurts him and tears him apart," I elaborated cheerlessly, resisting the escalating urge to cry, as I nonchalantly lifted my inanimate legs to rest on my chair.

Powering on the television, I picked up my grilled chicken salad and started munching on my starter. I stared blankly at the ever-changing screen, yet not focusing on the channel that was broadcasted, as I solely aimed for the sounds and sights to distract myself from the humiliating thoughts.

"And yet you think condemning yourself like that won't hurt him even more?" Jean challenged in ultimate contempt but was met with my silent treatment as I slowly chewed my vegetables.

"Great. Enjoy your dinner, then," Jean scoffed as she too began devouring her meal.

The explicit sarcasm laced in her words had me studying her indifferent disposition as she forced a fork fully poked with white meat and rocket dressed in transparent vinaigrette into her mouth while she had her eyes fixed to the ongoing programme in the background. Ironically not antagonized by her audacity, figuring it to be the last of her arguments she resorted to only because I had unknowingly and stubbornly pushed her to her wit's end, I set down my bowl back to the coffee table, sighing in confusion.

Jean followed suit to rest hers next to mine, shuffling over the sofa and took my hands as she sat cross-legged facing my side.

"Look, Lynn. I know that it's going to sound harsh, but I really want you to get better here," Jean admitted as she poured her sparking green eyes that were beaming with sadness and sincerity. 

"I understand that you're upset, but if you're just going to continue to live here upset, I'd rather take you back and have you live at home upset," Jean asserted, with traces of desolation seeping through her composed speech.

"At least, then, I'll get to see the both of you together," Jean casually remarked, but it was obvious that our separation still inflicted considerable aches to her heart, probably as much as it tortured ours.

"You didn't come all the way out here to stay upset. We didn't let you come all the way here to stay upset," Jean emphasized in a grave tone, staring at me with her eyes now vividly reflecting worry and concern.

"You're here because he set you free," Jean stressed but it only inflamed a savage pang in my heart that greatly contradicted her gracious tone.

"And it's time you set yourself free," Jean encouraged earnestly.

Instantly, my already faltering restraint evaporated into sheer tears that cascaded down my cheeks like a violent waterfall and she automatically drew me into an intimate hug, cuddling me close while I wept for the umpteenth time.

Irrefutably, being cruelly enlightened of my naivety, that my headstrong actions solely elicited by my selfish desire to preserve our love and my loyalty have simply brought him more pain that he never deserved, had stimulated a detrimental habitual routine that had originally concluded itself in the past couple of days.

Crying in Jean's arms, drowned in sorrows, until I was utterly drained, I reclined into her embrace, feeling fragile, powerless and everything weak. Tenderly, Jean stroked my back, rubbing her delicate palm upon the lustrous material of my satin night gown in hope to ease my mood.

"He knows that you still love him the way you always have. Wholeheartedly and unconditionally, and that nothing will ever waver it. You know it too," Jean comforted, lending me yet another pillar of emotional support like she had done on numerous other occasions ever since we moved here, essentially like our mother and daughter roles had been reversed.

"So, please, Lynn. Just stop blaming yourself," Jean appealed, desperation bursting through her cracking voice, and agonizingly, I glanced up at her, meeting her intent and expectant gaze.

"Trust me. He doesn't want to see you like this," Jean frankly reiterated as she meticulously dried my face and carefully helped me into a proper sitting posture.

"I know he doesn't," I acknowledged sheepishly.

"But this is a hurdle I can't seem to cross," I confessed in defeat.

"You can if you try," Jean inspired, squeezing my palm to calm my vivacious hesitancies that were instinctively aroused.

"Let's just eat and I'll take you out for a drink later, alright?" Jean suggested keenly, handing my bowl of salad back to me.

"Alright..." I uncertainly agreed.

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Hi guys. We're at the end of the week again. I hope you all have been enjoying the story so far. Don't forget to let me know your thoughts if any in the comments! Do vote for me if you liked the chapter too! I appreciate all of them 😍

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