Page 98 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

She shrugs. “Yeah. If that’s what you want.”

I expected a fight. Tears. Begging.

Not this weird, detached acceptance.

She steps out into the night, closing the door behind her. She reaches up to trace her fingers along my collar.

“You sure you’re done with me?” she murmurs.

I grab her wrist, holding it firmly, hating how delicate it feels in my grip, and the fact that I still want her.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Her eyes darken, but she doesn’t argue. She just…smiles again.

That same knowing, smug little smile.

Like she knows something I don’t. Like she somehow came out on top in this.

I drop her wrist and step back, trying to ignore the way my body still reacts to her. “Take care of yourself, Raya.”

She tilts her head, voice as soft as a lullaby. “Aww, babe. I always do.”

I turn and walk away.

I should feel relieved. But I don’t.

I feel like I just pulled the pin out of a grenade, and she’s back there behind me, smiling, waiting to go off.

27

Raya

My lunch break isn’t really a lunch break today. Just a brief interruption to the workday. There’s no lunch, just like there was no breakfast.

I can’t eat.

My head hurts. I feel like I could throw up any minute. The kids seem more demonic today, except for Aniya, ironically enough. She actually asked me if I was okay.

I didn’t answer. Truthfully, I don’t know the answer. I just keep seeing his face, the last look he gave me, so cold and distant, like he’d already moved on.

But when he touched me, the heat was still there. He stillwantsme, even if he doesn’t like me anymore.

It’s okay.

I’m used to being disliked.

I stare at the screen, flexing my fingers over the keyboard, barely able to read the words. Jonetta said I could use the computer in her office, which works out, because there’s less of a chance anything can be traced back to me.

Tori’s guy came through.

Behind me, some of the other teachers laugh about something, their voices bouncing off the drawing-covered walls. The normal world keeps on spinning, but I’m not part of it anymore.

I don’t care what they’re laughing about. I don’t care about my job. I don’t care that my stomach feels like a balled-up fist.

All I care about is him.

It’s funny how he thinks this is over. Just smooth walked away like he put a period at the end of a sentence.

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