Owning My Professor

Home But Not Home

Marcus POV

My marriage is slowly hitting the bridge.

The home I used to look forward to has slowly turned into a nightmare.

I had moved out from the main house and retreated into the boy’s quarters to give myself time to think and know the best way to handle things.

My little boys had asked in concern and I had lied that I just needed to focus more on work.

But that was far from the truth.

Every time I close my eyes to sleep, I can still see her, I can still see my wife in bed with my best friend. I can still hear the moans, how she begged him not to stop, how she held on to him.

Enough to remember that the woman I had built a life with had chosen someone else.

Enough to remember that the person standing beside her was someone I once called my best friend.

How does a man move on from that after seven years of marriage?

How do you wake up one day and realize the life you trusted no longer exists?

How could she betray me like that?

I got to the house and parked my car but I could not bring myself to come out.

I stalled for a bit and looked at myself in the mirror, working out a fake smile for my boys.

Children notice things.

They notice when you stop laughing.

They notice when you eat less.

They notice when your eyes look tired.

But they do not always ask because they are scared of the answer.

When I was sure the smile looked convincing enough, I left the car and walked into the house.

“Daddy!”

Two small bodies came running immediately.

I bent down and hugged them.

“Daddy, are you sleeping in your room today?” my younger son asked.

My smile almost cracked.

“Not today buddy.”

His face fell immediately.

“Oh.”

That one word felt heavier than anything else.

I rubbed his head.

“Come on, did you finish your homework?”

That seemed to distract him enough.

The boys dragged me to the sitting room where books and toys had already taken over the place.

For the next hour I listened to stories about school, superheroes and who cheated during football.

I laughed at the right moments.

I nodded where I was supposed to.

And for a moment I almost forgot.

Until I heard heels.

I looked up.

She had just walked in.

My wife stopped when she saw me.

There was a moment of silence.

The boys looked between both of us.

“Daddy is home,” my older son announced proudly.

She forced a smile.

“That’s nice.”

I looked away first.

I did not have the energy.

Not anger.

Not shouting.

Nothing.

That scared me more than anything.

I used to love this woman.

Now I just felt tired.

I stood up.

“Boys, I have some work to finish.”

Their faces dropped again.

I hated that.

I hated what this was doing to them.

I hated that I did not know how to fix it.

I walked back to the boy’s quarters and shut the door quietly.

My phone buzzed.

An email notification.

Teaching assistant applications.

I stared at it for a few seconds.

Work.

Maybe work was easier.

Maybe if I kept myself busy enough, I would not have to think.

I opened the first application.

Debbie Greene.