"The Affair" (a short story)

I stood at the bus stop under a torrent of thundershowers that drench my silk blouse making it stick to my bosom.

“Where the hell is this bus?” I grumbled to myself waiting for the commuter bus that 2 hours from now would put me back in my hometown after a long hard day’s work. As the water dripped from my nose and created a puddle in the crook of my neck, I looked up and saw the shining red, white and blue bus emblazoned with Shoreways Bus Lines on the side. I stuck out my dripping hand in a futile attempt to alert the driver of my intention to board his hunk of metal. I could hear the 16 wheels of the bus slide to a halt in the rainstorm and I was concerned the wheels were not going to cooperate with the driver’s command.

“Going my way?” the bus driver mused opening the door while I shook the excess water off my body like a dog coming in from the rain. I looked up and saw his smile brighter than the sun on a hot summer day but my frustration didn’t allow me to be amused by his quips.

“Middlebury?” I asked not really remembering what I saw on the marquee of the bus. “Are you going to Middlebury?” I asked again hoping that his answer would be a simple yes or no.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go, Miss” he replied flirtatiously. I could feel his eyes piercing me as I struggled to get on the bus with my heavy work bag in tow. I feigned a smile out of the crook of my mouth as I handed him my damn bus ticket and found my way to seat directly behind the driver where I always sat to combat my severe motion sickness. I settled in my seat and adjusted it to my comfort as the driver slowly took off to continue his route. I closed my eyes for what seemed like a moment when I felt the heat of someone’s eyes watching me. I looked up to find the driver glancing at me in the rear view. I could see he was handsome, not in the classic Denzel Washington way but definitely attractive. Our eyes locked and I was mesmerized until our moment was interrupted by the rush of passengers boarding the bus in a hurry to escape the downpour. I rode uncomfortably for the next 90 minutes looking up intermittently to find the driver still watching me in his mirror.

“What is he looking at?” I thought to myself both uncomfortable and flattered by the attention. It had been a while since a man looked at me in that way. The way that said “you are a good looking woman and I want to get to know you”. I rarely got those looks anymore from anyone including my husband.

The marital drought I was in the midst of was more apparent as the driver smiled at me every chance he got. After maybe the 4th time of making unintended eye contact, I returned the smile with a hint of bashfulness and sex appeal. I just knew I still had it.

The very next day I found myself silently rushing to the bus stop awaiting the highlight of my day. I couldn’t get my mind off the driver’s pearly whites and onyx eyes as he glanced at my reflection the day before. In my head I thought of striking up a conversation or at least saying hi. That all changed as he pulled up, opened the door and struck me with that infectious, endearing smile like a lightning bolt.

“Hello Miss…” he said as he turned his well-chiseled upper body slightly towards the door to greet me.

“Hi” I said as I smiled, handed him my ticket and made a beeline for my usual seat behind him.

After a couple moments of singing his way through the route, he boldly broke the thick silence. “Glad we didn’t have rain today huh?” he asked talking to me through the rearview mirror.

“Uh-huh” was all I could muster as my heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest. I hadn’t been this nervous with a man since the day I met my husband 19 years before in the produce aisle of the local grocery. My husband hadn’t had that affect on me in the longest time and I forgot how much I missed that feeling. I could feel my ears burning and my heart pounding as I gave one word replies to his conversational questions. He must think I am an ass, I thought to myself but for some reason my mouth wasn’t cooperating with my brain and nothing was coming out of it. His voice sounded like a murmur as my brain focused on the man and not a thing of what he was saying.

Weeks later, the pounding in my chest increased as I sat behind him on the bus experiencing his scent of baby powder mixed with Aqua Velva made its way to my eager nostril. In our 90 minute a day encounter, I learned that he was a father and grandfather to a beautiful little girl that he never got to see. I could see the sadness in his eyes as he showed a cell phone picture of the precious granddaughter he wasn’t allowed to see. Too much drama, he explained and I didn’t ask for further clarification though I was curious. He spoke of his five sons, one of which died suddenly of leukemia at the age of 13 years before but still caused a tear to fall from his tender eyes as he spoke of him. I was impressed by this man’s ability to show his emotions unflinchingly without caring that I could possibly judge him. This endeared me to him and I wanted more.

Within weeks, of our meeting I found myself sharing my innermost feelings and thoughts. I told him of my children and what they meant to me. I regaled him with stories of my daughters’ teenager antics and my son’s karate classes. He was a part of life for 90 minutes a day Monday through Friday as he safely got me home full of his intoxicating scent and engaging words. I found myself unable to go the day without seeing him or hearing his voice. I began to rely on his encouragement and playful nature to get me through the difficult time I was going through in my life.

I soon found myself telling him about my relationship or lack there of with my husband. I confided how my husband looked at me like I was the scourge of the earth and how he didn’t care that I was miserable in the marriage. I disclosed how I longed to leave the relationship but was fearful that my children would hate me for destroying their family. I told him how my husband hadn’t touched me in months and how I was convinced that he wasn’t interested in doing so because he had someone else. I opened my heart to this driver and I didn’t have a reason why. It was then that I knew that I was in the throws of an “affair”. The driver was giving me everything I never knew I always wanted.

This subtle “relationship” between me and the driver continued for a year while the flirtation and attraction between us increased with the change of seasons. I could feel myself falling for this man in the most inappropriate way. He was my driver, I was married, and it couldn’t get more inappropriate than that. I found myself getting nervous when I was on the bus with him alone. It was like I was on a perpetual blind date as I rode the bus home for a week straight without saying a world. Until he broke the silence...

“Where are you right now?” the driver asked talking to me through the rear view mirror.

“Huh?” I replied not sure that he was talking to me though I was the only one on the bus.

“Where are you right now?” he repeated. “You surely aren’t here with me”.

I smiled and dismissed his question knowing that he was right on point. My mind wasn’t on the bus with my body. It was elsewhere trying to forget the feelings I had inside for this man. This inappropriate “relationship” had taken control of my feelings and thoughts and that wasn’t something that I was willing to share with him.

“I just have a lot of things on my mind” I replied not taking my eyes off the blue cumulus clouds in the clear spring sky. It took everything in my very being not to face him and my mounting feelings for him. I knew he would see through to my heart in a moment’s glance. That was the type of connection we had.

“A penny for your thoughts”

“I don’t want to bore you with my issues” I relented uncomfortable with my own vulnerability. My mind turned to my husband and the thought of his indiscretions over the years. Was I not good enough? What was I doing wrong? Why am I allowing him to treat me this way? How do I get out?

“There is no way you could ever bore me” he said as the bus came to a halt at a stop light and he turned his chiseled upper body towards me to pierce me directly with his eyes. “I want to be there for you”.

Before the sympathetic words even left his mouth, a deluge of tears began to rush down my face as the pain of my ruined marriage engulfed me confused by the feelings I had for this bus driver. In my mind I wanted to reach out and fall into his massive arms to be saved from the mess my life had become. My head knew that was unbecoming of a married woman and I held back with all the might I could muster. He looked at me with genuine concern and a desire to rescue me from the anguish I was feeling.

As the tears soaked my face and my chest heaved with uncontrollable sobs, I felt the bus come to an abrupt stop and heard the emergency brake being pulled into the park position. I opened my tear-filled eyes to find this man standing over me with tears in his eyes, holding out his hand for me. My first instinct was to make sure we were alone as I scanned my surroundings for onlookers. It wouldn’t have mattered at all because with him I felt as though we were the only two people in the world. I apprehensively gave him my hand and he pulled into his loving arms embracing me with all the emotion in the world. I wasn’t aware a man had the ability to make me feel safe in a warm embrace. My husband never possessed that ability. My husband’s embrace always came at a price but at that very moment, I felt the bus driver didn’t want anything in return. He held me for what seemed a pleasurable eternity as I soaked his uniform shirt with my tears and he stroked my back tenderly. By the time, my tears ended I felt drained from the emotional journey that was take place right before me. I released myself from his embrace confused.

“I’m so sorry” I said wiping the leftover wetness from my face and sitting back in my seat.

“Don’t be sorry. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone”, he said sitting next to me with his rock hard bicep brushing against my forearm.

“It’s not your job either” I said realizing that this stranger cared more about me than the man I chose to live my life with and bear his children. This angered me. “That’s what I have a husband for”.

“Apparently he isn’t doing a good job”, he retorted stating the obvious. He reached his hand to my face and softly touched my cheek. I pulled away not liking the fire that he created inside of me.

“You don’t know a thing about my husband” I said brushing him off and focusing my tearing eyes back on the cotton ball clouds in the moving sky. I tried to stifle the tears that I felt well up at the knowledge that this man knew me better than I knew myself.

Without a word, the driver got up, sat in the driver seat, took the bus out of park and resumed his route. After a few moments and feelings of guilt for having been snippy to him, I looked up into his mirror and hoped to catch of glimpse of him looking at me once more. Nothing. I stared into his mirror as he greeted boarding passengers and collected tickets. Still nothing. I could feel a part of me sob internally as I thought I had lost him forever. It wasn’t like he was even mine to begin with but our “relationship” had sustained me for weeks. I wasn’t sure I could make it without him in my life but quickly realized that I really only had a part of him. The part he wanted me to have. Those 90 minutes a day on Monday through Friday. I didn’t even know him but a part of me loved the him I knew.

Weeks later after changing my work schedule to avoid seeing the bus driver, I stood on the bus stop half an hour than my usual pick-up time. The sun was beaming brightly and I could feel the heat on the top of my head. I blinked my eyes shaded by sunglasses to focus on the arriving bus. I fumbled in my bag for my ticket as I heard the bus door open. I looked up to see the bus driver, my bus driver, sitting there looking at me lovingly.

“Going my way?” he asked jokingly unsure of my reaction.

My feet felt like they were covered in cement as I tried to board the bus. I didn’t know what to say but my heart wanted to reach out and hold him. As if he read my mind, he placed the bus in park, stood in front of me, took my chin in his soft strong hands, and tenderly kissed me on the lips. I closed my eyes and reveled in the moment I had waited for months. I slowly met his tongue with mine and wrapped my shaking arms around his neck while we continued to kiss passionately. He held my face in his hands as he continued to kiss me like I had never been kissed before. I felt in that moment that this man was my security blanket covering me and shielding me from the hurt and pain I had suffered from for so long. His loving kiss told the story of how I came into his life and changed it as he had done for me. It told of how he missed my smile and my intelligent conversation as I had missed his. It told of how he couldn’t lose me because of circumstances and how I didn’t want him to give me up. It told of how he had fallen in love with my spirit and I with his. My heart was lost in a world wind of broken promises, responsibilities, marriage vows I had taken and the inability of my husband to be the man I needed in my life. My heart was lost but I found it that day on the 4:50 bus to Middlebury.