Page 19 of Wicked Scandal

“Delete and done.” I tap the button on my screen, erasing the SnapTok app. I should have done this yesterday after I helped Wilder with his dad’s article. But temptation got the best of me and I stayed up all night in the closet, watching every one of his videos, one last time. That’s when I realized, I’m crazy. I mean, who stays up all night watching their student’s social media? If anyone knew how often I’m viewing his account, they’d think I had a thing for him. When I started to think so myself, I knew it was time. Now it’s done.

I set my phone down on the center console in my car, so I can drive, almost wishing I’d waited a few days to delete the app off my phone. Troy is going out of town for the next four nights and I’m going to need something to do to keep myself busy. Even if I’m never watching Wilder’s account ever again, there are many others I enjoyed. I’ve actually fallen down the rabbit hole of watching farm animals more times than I care to admit.

Regardless, I’ll have to find something to do to occupy my time. Chances are, Troy will arm every camera in, and around, our house, so going out isn’t an option unless I want to be hammered with text messages and phone calls asking where I’m at and who I’m with.

After all this time, you’d think my own husband would trust me. I’ve never given him any reason not to. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just because of his own insecurities, or his own guilt.

Honestly, I don’t care what Troy does. I prefer he just stays the hell away from me. And for the next four nights, he will.

A sense of peace settles inside me knowing he’ll be out of my hair soon. Now I just have to get through this lunch with him. It’s all for show. Troy wants the community to see us out, together and happy. I’m forced to put on a smile and pretend life is dandy. That my husband doesn’t smack me around behind closed doors and that the reason I own so many turtlenecks really has nothing to do with the way he seems to get off on strangling me.

A few days ago, it wasn’t so easy to pretend. We went to Big John’s for pizza and before we left, I couldn’t find my wedding ring. I took it off before scrubbing a stubborn bloodstain out of my favorite pair of white jeans, and I forgot where I put it.

To say Troy was livid is an understatement. The fact that I even took it off in the first place had him raging. He completely lost it and accused me of taking off my ring so I could fuck another man. Not just any man, though—Mr. Chen, one of the history teachers at our school.

The insanity in that statement alone had me dumbfounded!

Mr. Chen is getting married soon. Where Troy came up with that is beyond me. Sometimes I think he just sits in his office and creates scenarios in his mind that he actually believes. Mr. Chen has never even made a pass at me, or vice versa. We hardly even talk. Actually, I don’t talk to anyone just so I can avoid Troy losing his shit. Yet, it still happens.

As we approached the front door to leave for dinner, out of nowhere, Troy thrust his knee into my stomach. The unexpected blow knocked the wind out of me and I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

Of course, then he apologized and pulled my damn ring out of his pocket. Apparently he found it on the kitchen counter when he got home. I have no doubt he had it the entire time he was screaming at me.

It doesn’t matter, though. At least not for the next four nights because I’ll be free of him. Just to be a bitch because I can, I might not wear my ring the entire time he’s gone.

Now to get through this next hour.

The town is pretty quiet this time of day. Students are in school, adults are adulting. So I make it to the city hall in less than five minutes. Not that it’s a far drive, but certain hours are busier than others downtown.

I maneuver my car into a parallel parking spot in front of city hall. Before getting out, I give myself a quick glance in the rearview mirror. My makeup is intact, my hair is tame and neat, and my wedding ring is on. Hopefully he doesn’t give me hell for my casual outfit. I’d hate to embarrass him in front of his colleagues for not looking like the perfect Stepford wife.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever mood he might be in today. It's not often I see him during work hours, so there’s no telling how he’s going to act at lunch. It could be good because he is at work and has to put on a fake smile. However, I know better than to feel safe here. Troy has his own private office with a nearly soundproof door. This place is no safer than my own home.

As soon as I open the car door, a gust of wind jerks it from my grasp. Reaching out and grabbing the frame, I hold to it tightly as I step out. I don’t even need to close the door because the wind slams it with a thud. Looking up, I notice the dark clouds rolling in. The threat of a storm looms and I’m oddly excited for it.

Maybe I’ll start a fire in the fireplace this evening and read a book with takeout food. The possibilities are endless. I’m giddy inside just thinking about it.

Moving quickly, I go through the front entrance, the smell of fresh-cut paper and political garbage immediately flooding my senses.

As soon as I enter city hall, I’m immediately greeted by Beth, Troy’s assistant. “Hi, Catherine.”

She looks adorably professional in a crisp white blouse and it’s impossible not to notice the growing bulge of her stomach. If I had to guess, she’s expecting. But I won’t guess, nor ask because of the possibility I’m wrong.

“Good afternoon, Beth. It’s so nice to see you,” I say kindly.

Flashing a toothy grin, she sets down her tall tumbler. "You as well," she chirps. “I had no idea you were coming in today. Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“I took an hour of personal time today. Troy wanted to take me out for lunch before he leaves for Chicago.”

She claps her hands to her chest, awestruck. “How thoughtful! Such a selfless man he is.” I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or serious, but I vote for the latter. Everyone loves Troy. They think he’s this heroic man sent to save our town from doom. Everyone but me.

Holding up a finger, she says, “Give me just a moment. I’ll shoot Troy a message and let him know you’re here. I believe he’s on an important phone call with the chief of police.”

It’s odd hearing her call him Troy. Almost everyone refers to him as Mr. Jenkins, or Mayor Jenkins, because that’s what he prefers. He’s a true pompous asshole. But he works closely with Beth, so I am sure they are closer than most.

“Thank you, Beth.” I fold my hands in front of me, prepared to wait awhile. When Troy gets on the phone, he will talk as long as the person on the other end will listen—mostly about himself and his good deeds.

Beth stands up behind the desk, and I catch another glimpse of her stomach. There is no doubt she is very pregnant. It’s been a couple months since I’ve seen her, but I definitely didn’t notice she was expecting then.

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