I flicked the lights on in the classroom, wondering if anyone would notice if I just went home and took a nap. My office wouldn’t expect me to be anywhere but at the university, and since I told my students to voice their concerns through email, the university would just assume that I was at my office. It would be like the adult version of the scam kids played on their parents when they wanted to go somewhere forbidden. I’d say I was at a friend’s house, and my friend would say he’s at mine. Everyone would be satisfied and I could get some much needed rest.

I sat down at the desk and put my head in my hands. If I couldn’t get a quick snooze at home, I guess the classroom would suffice. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my thoughts, but once again, this was proving to be difficult.

Rebecca was on my mind, and I was not happy about it.

As a rule, I tried not to let girls get the better of me. I had seen firsthand what it did to other men. My friends always looked so weak when they were whipped by their girls. Even if they weren’t officially attached to a chick, their crushes yielded great power over them. It made me sick. A guy who could hold his own in the boardroom was suddenly falling victim to his girlfriend and giving up golf trips for shopping sprees. I never wanted to be like that. Having a girl stuck in one’s mind was only the beginning.

Monogamy did not run in the family. My father was married to my mother for eighteen years before they officially ended the relationship. However, from what I heard from my mom on nights that she had consumed too much wine, he cheated on her from early on. But, she loved him and loved her kids, so she stayed with him. She put on a good show for that long, though. I never suspected a thing until I reached my teens and finally understood what my dad meant when he said he stayed in the city overnight to ‘work’.

Somehow, this casual attitude toward infidelity must have seeped into my brother’s and my psyche. My mother taught us the basics of being a decent man—open the doors for women and don’t force them to have sex when they don’t want to. Everything else, we learned from our dad. The same girl night after night was a bore. What your main chick doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Take a shower after sleeping with your mistress so your girl at home won’t smell her perfume on you. That sort of thing.

My older brother tried to master monogamy and got married to a wonderful woman. She was an East Coast darling, the type of girl you want to take to your parents’ summer home in Nantucket. Caroline was a sweetheart, but she could be tough when it mattered. She worked in advertising while my brother worked in the family business. She wanted kids, and he wanted to continue to live life as an extension of college. But, he agreed, and she gave birth to two sons in three years; all the while, my brother was sleeping around while she was home rocking the boys to sleep.

Somehow, he managed to play it off for a few years, fooling her into thinking he was just working really hard to put money in their college savings accounts. My brother made the mistake of pissing one of his girlfriends off and she went to the wife and spilled the beans. Coincidentally, the girlfriend was mad because she found out that he had another girlfriend. The whistleblower knew too well that my brother was married, but apparently, she had a problem with being cheated on, not being cheated with.

In the end, Caroline took the boys and half of everything. Whenever the boys come around on holidays, I can’t help but think that they’re doomed to the same fate. It must be the Rye Family curse.

Knowing I was doomed as well, I never even gave monogamy a shot. It’s like if all of the men in my family had a deadly peanut allergy—I don’t know for sure if I have the same allergy, but since the chances are good, I’m not going to risk it. I’ve seen how badly it ends for everyone involved.

I often heard from happily coupled-up friends that I was being silly and that I should give it a shot. Even some of my wilder friends managed to settle down and start a family. I wondered if I would end up being the old bachelor, the creepy old man, at my father’s age, no kids, no spouse. At this point in my life, it didn’t seem terrible. It wasn’t that I didn’t like children, but I didn’t want to be held responsible for fucking someone’s life up. If I wanted to do that, I could screw my own life up. No innocent people need be involved.

That’s why the fact that Rebecca was stuck in my brain was so troubling to me. Never in my life had I felt the instinct to chase after someone like that. I’d get brief flashes of arguing with her in my office, to lounging on the beach with her, to sliding a diamond ring onto her finger. It freaked me out to no end. She wasn’t even all that special.

If I wanted to go after a dream girl, I would choose a supermodel. She’d have to fly to jobs and be away for days or weeks at a time, but that would be perfect. I could have a little time to myself, or to hang with the guys without being nagged about forgetting to order the groceries or fix her Bentley. She’d have her good looks and would keep me happy in the sack. And, she’d look great on my arm for all of the dinners and events we would attend together. She’d be able to expand my client base with all of her rich and famous friends. It seemed ideal if I ever planned on settling down.

Instead, I was dreaming about a college student with zero assets and moderate good looks. She would undoubtedly be a huge pain in my ass and wouldn’t know the first thing about my social life. If we settled down together, she would demand a lot out of me, and I wasn’t prepared to change the way I lived, just for a woman. We could try to date, but it would only end in disaster. It was a terrible idea to get involved with Rebecca altogether.

In the end, I decided it would be best to get her out of my mind by any means possible. If it meant that I had to sleep with a bunch of women, I would do it. If I had to shock myself while masturbating to her image in my mind, I would try it. Thoughts of women only polluted the mind and made it harder to focus on more important things, like money and success. I was not about to end up like my father or my brother. I worked hard to make my money, and I wasn’t about to go to court to have a woman take half of it.

I sat up and pulled out my phone, deleting student emails begging me to give them the internship. They were making me regret ever announcing the prize. One student even tried to bribe me by saying he would give me a good teacher evaluation at the end of the semester. I laughed as I deleted that one. That kid overestimated how much I cared about teaching.

Then, I typed a few quick responses to the legitimate, albeit stupid, questions. When I was finished, I went back to my contacts list and did one last search, hoping that I would discover a name I previously forgot about. Alas, there was no one to take to my event, and I had begun to come to terms with going stag.

I checked my watch, figuring I could leave a few minutes early without anyone noticing. After all, I had made it very clear that I didn’t want to deal with students during this time. I stretched and started to get out of my chair when I heard a soft knock at the door.

I sighed. “Come in,” I droned.

I expected to see one of my students walk through the door. What I didn’t expect was to see that particular student, looking like she just walked into the club.