Finally, after endless moments, he asked, “Is her leash in the same spot?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on, girl,” he called in a friendly voice. “Let’s go for a walk. Want to go for a walk?”
Annie pranced excitedly, her toenails clicking faster and faster. She let out an excited yelp and followed Nick into the hallway where the leash hung on the wall.
He fastened it quickly to her collar and they left out the front door.
“Traitor,” I hissed when they were gone.
The new silence hit me harder than anything else. I had been living alone for a while, but I always had Annie with me. She was always here to greet me at the kitchen door when I got home from work or curl up with me on the couch.
Logically, I knew she was only going to be gone for a half hour or so. I knew Nick would bring her back to me safe and sound.
But the house felt immensely lonely now. It fell down on my shoulders with a crushing weight. My chest deflated and my lungs gave out.
I fell to my knees in a heap of loud sobbing and uncontrollable tears. My wet hands splashed water all over my work clothes, but I couldn’t find the energy to care. I was too wrapped up in my own pain, too lost in the heartbreak inside my chest.
Unexpected grief crashed over me and I gasped for breath, stretched for the effort to continue living through this agony.
Why did it hurt so much? If this was what we both wanted, why did it feel like death instead of life?
I had loved this man once. I had loved him more than anything else in life. And now we treated each other like enemies. I hurt him every time I saw him. And I did it on purpose.
I was a good, decent person. I believed in my career. I wanted to change lives and give the kids I worked with a future they might not have otherwise. And yet, when I was with my husband, I turned into a vicious, crazed harpy that couldn’t listen to reason or rationalize logically. Every nice, kind thing inside of me jumped out the window and I started flinging insults meant to wound, to harm permanently… to kill whatever good, decent person was left in him.
I hated who I was with Nick.
And I had to be honest with myself and admit that it wasn’t Nick that made me this way. There was something ugly inside of me… something monstrous and vengeful.
I didn’t want to keep talking to him like this; I didn’t want to keep hurting him. What was even the point anymore? We were over. We were separated. The least I could do, after years and years and years of this, was treat him like a human being worthy of respect.
We weren’t going to be man and wife anymore, but that didn’t make us enemies.
Just because we didn’t love each other, didn’t mean our only option was to hate each other instead.
I grabbed the kitchen towel hanging from the cabinet next to my head and used it to dry my tears and my hands. I sat there while I tried to piece the shattered fragments of myself back together.
It wasn’t easy and I wasn’t entirely successful. But I managed to resolve something inside of me, something lasting and intentional. I didn’t have to treat Nick badly to make myself feel better.
This was hard on both of us. And it didn’t look like it would be getting any easier.
But if I could weather this storm, if I could walk this journey without inflicting any more lasting wounds, there might be healing at the end for me too.
I wanted this divorce because I was sick and tired of being miserable, of wishing I could be happy, of wanting a better life. On the floor of my kitchen, all alone and feeling my worst, I realized I didn’t have to wait for Nick to go away before I could grab those things and make them realities in my life.
I didn’t have to wait for the papers to be signed before I could stop being miserable… until I had a better life.
Those were things I had the power to change.
And I would change them. Starting now.
The front door opened and I jumped to my feet. I slammed the faucet down, so the water would stop running and give away my breakdown.
I threw the towel on the counter and wiped at my face one more time with my fingertips before moving quickly to meet Nick in the entryway. He unhooked the leash from Annie’s collar and patted her on the head before standing up to his full, impressive height.
I knew by the way he looked at me that he could tell I’d been crying. Biting, defensive words immediately landed on the tip of my tongue, but I held them back, even if it cut into my pride.
“Thanks,” I offered humbly. “I wasn’t really up for walking her today.”
His expression changed again. Storm clouds rolled in those starkly blue eyes of his and his face darkened with something I couldn’t name. He rubbed his palm over the short scruff along his jaw, “Anytime.”
“You too.” The words surprised me as much as him. “I mean, if you want to walk her, just, maybe call first?”
He nodded. “I can do that.”
We stared at each other awkwardly, shifting on our feet as the silence dragged out and neither of us could think of something to say. I didn’t know if we’d somehow managed to reach a truce or if this was only a temporary treaty, but Nick seemed as tired of fighting as I did.
His gaze locked with mine, accidentally at first, but as he held it, I realized he was saying something to me in his silence. I couldn’t read him, though. Either I’d forgotten how in the few months we’d been apart or maybe I never could to begin with.
Finally he said, “Well, I should go.”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell him goodbye. It didn’t make any sense. But nothing I did made sense these days. He took my silence as a dismissal and left without another glance my way.
I was alone again, even if Annie was here this time. And even though we’d shared some hospitable moments, even though I’d managed to hold my tongue and not hurt him more, I felt more shredded than ever before.
Every time he left, I shattered apart.
Chapter Four
11. He doesn’t understand me.
A week and a half had gone by since Nick stopped by to see Annie. For a couple days, I had anticipated his phone call. I’d caught myself glancing at my cell phone obnoxiously often or waiting to walk Annie just in case Nick stopped by and wanted to do it himself.
I couldn’t explain my behavior.
This man didn’t get to have access to my heart after everything we’d been through.
After everything we were going to go through.
When I realized what I was doing, how often I checked my cell and how far my heart sank each day he didn’t call, I had temporarily contemplated checking myself into rehab.
Did they have rehab for bad relationships?
Was there an AA meeting for being addicted to the wrong men?
There should be.
“Ms. C, I need to go to the bathroom.”
I whirled around from my position at the whiteboard, my marker held aloft. “You’ve already been, Jay. Twice.”
Jay Allen’s eyes narrowed and his lips curled with a knowing smirk. This was the second class I’d had with Jay. The first time I’d had him in class was two years ago as a freshman. He had been difficult to handle then, but nothing compared to the swagger he carried in his junior year.
He ran a hand over his shaved head and his eyes glinted with the promise of torture. “Bad Taco Bell.” His large hand dropped to his stomach where he rubbed it dramatically. “I’ve got the shits.”
I swallowed down pure, raw frustration as the rest of the class laughed and threw crass insults at him. This was what he did. Although it was very possible Taco Bell did give him the shits- we’d all been there. But this was his regular MO. He wanted to rile up my classroom until it was complete chaos.
He didn’t like me and I barely tolerated him. He had been a nuisance two years ago, but this year he had declared war on the first day when I asked him to be quiet and he had asked me if I was on my period. In front of the entire class.
His exact wo
rds were, “Damn, Teach, you on the rag? Why you so worked up? We just chillin’.”
I had made him write “Excuse me, Mrs. Carter, are you feeling okay? You seem upset. I’m sorry for interrupting you,” five hundred times as a graded essay.
He’d given me hell ever since.
“Fine, Mr. Allen, go to the restroom and take care of your… bowel issues.” The class broke into hysterics again.
Jay flashed me a wide, toothy smile. He jumped from his seat and sauntered through the narrow aisles. He dropped two fingers on the edge of Keira Williams’s desk and tapped twice. Keira sank down in her chair, a silly grin on her face.
I watched her while Jay grabbed the bathroom pass and left the room with as much noise and commotion as he was capable of. Keira glanced at the door, that happy smile still on her face.
She turned back to me and tentatively raised her hand.
Apparently, these kids thought I was an idiot.
“Yes, Keira?”
“I need to go to the bathroom too,” she said shyly.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and give her a lecture on how love isn’t real; it’s only something our imaginations make up to make our libido feel better about itself in the morning.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think the school board would appreciate that particular truth bomb.
“Let me guess, you had Taco Bell for lunch too?” I immediately regretted the snide tone to my voice when Keira’s eyes went huge with embarrassment and she tried to melt into her chair.
I realized too late that even though her horny teenage hormones had no place at school, it wasn’t my responsibility to warn her off men. I was only responsible until graduation.
“No,” she answered quickly.
Damn high school girls and their low self-esteems. “I’m sorry, Keira,” I told her with real remorse. “But you’ll have to wait until Jay comes back.”
She looked at the door longingly and I watched disappointment pull her features.
Had she really thought I’d let her leave for a mid-period hookup in the bathroom? I looked back at the whiteboard and contemplated giving up my lecture on dangling participles and replacing it with one on self-respect.
A skeezy tryst in the old boy’s locker room wasn’t going to do anything but give her athlete’s foot and a reason to feel shame.
I hated that she wanted that for herself. I hated that Jay expected it from her.
Jay eventually came back looking impatient and aggravated. He shot Keira a look that I did not miss. She shrugged apologetically, but there was nothing she could do. The teacher had spoken.
The rest of class went by without incident, but I could feel Jay’s angered glare as the minutes ticked by. As frustrated as I felt with him, his simmering anger got under my skin.
Fear fluttered in my chest and coiled in my stomach. This kid might be thirteen years younger than me, but he was bigger, taller, and he had more muscle than I could ever dream of.
I rationalized that he would retaliate in a way that drove me crazy, but wouldn’t physically harm me. He wasn’t stupid. He was too smart for his own good.
But rationalizing didn’t help.
I breathed out slowly when the bell finally rang. Loud laughter and chatter filled up the once quiet space but faded as the students filtered into the hall.
Jay lingered behind. I could see Keira waiting for him in the hallway, but he wasn’t in a hurry to catch up to her.
“You’re ruining my game, Ms. C.”
“You’re ruining my class, Mr. Allen.” I tilted my chin in a display of confidence I did not feel.
His deep brown eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you were this kind of teacher.”
I leaned forward, emboldened by righteous anger. “And I didn’t think you were that kind of an asshole, Jay. During class? Really? Have some respect for her.”
He cocked his head back, shocked at my candidness. A slow grin pulled at his lips and my mouth went dry. Was he going to tell on me? Turn me into Mr. Kellar? I could get in a lot of trouble for speaking to a student like that.
“When she asks for it, I’ll give it to her,” he chuckled, the innuendo screaming through his words.
He turned away from me and strutted toward the door. I couldn’t help but call after him, “Be better than that!”
He waved at me without turning back around, “Sure thing, Ms. C.”
The door slammed shut behind him and I resisted the urge to puke. I placed my hands on my desk and leaned heavily on them. I dropped my head and focused on breathing. Holy shit.
Jay Allen wasn’t the first difficult student I’d had. I’d called the cops more than once and I had been threatened at least once a semester since I started here.
The ego these boys carried around with them was incredible. They thought they owned the world and worse than that, they thought they deserved the world. They didn’t appreciate a teacher that expected them to work hard and try at something other than sports or hitting on girls.
Sometimes the girls were even worse.
Entitled.
Cocky.
Neglected.
Underprivileged.
Apathetic.
These kids were a dangerous mixture of abandon and overpromise. I had to skate the fine line between realistic expectations and stern discipline.
Not one of them respected me for it.
A knock at my door and a deep voice pulled me from the turmoil of my thoughts. “Kate, are you okay?”
I looked up to find Eli Cohen standing in my doorway with a concerned expression on his face. His dark eyes swept over me, taking stock of everything that could be wrong.
“Rough day,” I squeaked out. Fear still pounded in my chest and I wondered if I should go to Kellar. Nothing happened. Jay hadn’t even threatened me. But years of experience taught me that I should trust my gut instinct.
“Your ex-husband?” Eli guessed.
I winced, unprepared for his question. A cynical smile tilted my lips and I stared at my shoes when I answered, “No, not Nick. I, uh, I had an altercation with a student.”
Eli crossed the threshold and stood before me in three seconds. His large hands landed on my biceps, squeezing them compassionately.
I jumped at his touch. When was the last time a man had touched me? Even Nick?
Not for a very long time.
Eli’s closeness immediately felt wrong. I had the strongest urge to smile politely and wiggle away from him. But I realized those were silly thoughts. I wasn’t betraying Nick.
There was nothing left to betray.
“I’m so sorry,” Eli apologized. “I shouldn’t have assumed… I’m so sorry. Really. That was really stupid of me.”
“It’s okay,” I promised him. In the end, I did shrug off his hands. They were too awkward and my head wasn’t right. Plus, I started to worry about someone walking into the room and getting the wrong idea. “It could easily have been my divorce. It’s been a weird few months.”
Eli’s concerned frown made me feel a little better. “I’m a jackass.”
Surprised laughter bubbled out of me. “You’re not.”
“I am. What idiot walks in on a distraught woman and immediately brings up her divorce?”
My smile was soft and endearing. “It’s really okay.”
He gave me a sardonic look and shook his head. “I got divorced three years ago. I should know better.”
His comment took my breath. I had never thought much about people in the midst of divorce before my own. I didn’t even know that many that had gone through one. They seemed to be only stories my mother told me over Sunday dinners. So-and-sos are getting divorced. I knew they wouldn’t last. He was always lazy. She could never settle down.
I never thought it would be me. I never thought I would be the restless girl or that Nick would be the deadbeat husband. Because according to my mother only worthless people got divorced.
“I’m so sorry,” I told him quickly. This time it
was me that put my hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know.”
His deep chocolate eyes found mine and held them. “It was before I came here.”
“How long were you married?” My curiosity couldn’t be helped. Eli was gorgeous and an excellent teacher. He was a total catch. I couldn’t imagine a woman not wanting to stay with him.
But I had once thought that about Nick too.
“Ten years,” he answered with the slightest catch in his voice. “We were high school sweethearts.”
We were quiet for a while as I heard all of the words he didn’t say. The feelings that he didn’t admit.
“Nick and I met in college,” I admitted softly.
He turned around and sat down on the edge of my desk. His hands landed next to his hips and he leaned forward attentively.
I realized how strange it was to have this man’s undivided attention. Nick didn’t listen to me unless we were in the middle of an argument.
I couldn’t count how many stories I’d told him only to have him lift his head and look at me like a lost puppy. “Huh?” he’d say. “Did you say something?”
I swallowed down the hurt of that memory and allowed myself to enjoy Eli’s focus. I licked my dry lips and spoke beyond the fresh lump in my throat. “I thought we were perfect for each other.”
“There’s no such thing as perfect,” Eli commiserated.
I groaned, “I know that now.”
Eli stared at his scuffed brown loafers, so I took the opportunity to study the lines and planes of his face. His jaw was clean-shaven and smooth and his nose had small indents where his glasses rested. They were tucked into his pocket now, the end of one side poking out in the most adorable way.
He had great hair, great shoulders and great hands. He was so purely male that I knew half the female population of Hamilton High was deeply in love with him already and it was only September.
Not to mention I had heard really great things about his classes. He wasn’t just a good guy, he was a good teacher.
And he understood what I was going through.
Every Wrong Reason Page 5