Page 65 of My Almost Ex

“How does your heart break?” Evan asks, staring down at his chest.

“Where is our heart?” Gia asks.

“You mean those paper hearts for Valentine’s Day?” Logan says.

“My grandpa had a bad heart. Is that the same thing?” Ashley asks.

“Maybe we should just end this,” Principal Richards says.

“No, it’s okay.” I shake my head. “Your heart is right here.” I lay my hand over mine. “The term broken heart is a figure of speech. It means that someone you love hurt you really bad.”

“Who hurt Mr. Adam?” Evan stands up as though he’s ready to take on the offending party.

“Mrs. Greene did,” Kayla answers, pointing at me. I don’t remember her, but I’m fairly sure she probably always raised her hand and answered every question.

“Okay, guys.” Adam slides out of the desk and comes over to the front of the room. “My heart is fine. I have a great heart. It’s healthy and I can still scale mountains to save people.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. Other than when he held my hand in our old bedroom a week ago, it’s the only time he’s touched me. He squeezes.

But the kids aren’t saying anything wrong. They’re just franker than the adults in this town. Like it or not, everyone in this town thinks I broke Adam Greene.

“Why don’t you read them a story now?” Abby hands me a book.

I happily take the book, and the kids allow the distraction to prevent any further talk of whose heart I broke and why. It’s still not something I could answer even if I wanted to.

When we leave an hour later, I refuse to drive because my mind is distracted.

“They’re just kids,” Adam says.

“Their hugs felt good,” I say. “I enjoyed being in the classroom with them.”

“You were always a great teacher,” he says and puts the truck in gear to leave.

“I loved it then?”

He nods. “You did. You’d always come home and tell me stories about what they said. Which you do know…” He glances at me for a second before pulling out on the main road. “Kids say whatever’s on their mind. You don’t have to worry about what they said.”

“I know, but it makes me feel guilty. Maybe if I knew why I left, I’d feel less guilty, or maybe I’d feel even more so. I mean, who knows why I’d leave you?”

He puts his hand on my thigh. A million nerve cells heat under his palm and scream for him to keep it right there, even move up a little. “You have to relax. You have no control over any of this.”

I slide my hand over his and link our fingers. “I’m surprised to hear you say that when you’re the one I hurt.”

“At some point, I have to let the anger and hurt go. I have to find forgiveness.”

“Do you think you ever could?” I’m pretty sure I stop breathing as I wait for his answer.

He moves his hand and I expect him to slide it away, but he locks our hands together instead. “I’m trying. I really am.”

“I appreciate it.”

He’s quiet for the rest of the trip, but he doesn’t release my hand. When we pull up the long driveway to Hank and Marla’s house on the hill, my gut twists.

“What’re we doing here?” I ask.

“We’re having a late lunch with Hank and Marla. I’ve put her off long enough and she was bummed about missing the party. She’s anxious to see you.”

I nod, and he parks the truck at the top of the driveway.

“It’s only us here. I told the rest of my family they couldn’t come. Plus, it’s a weekday, so that only leaves Fisher and maybe Xavier who might be around. So no worries.”

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