Page 30 of Avoiding Temptation
“Have you thought about a writing career?”
She’s silent as she thinks, and it’s then that she pushes up the sleeves of her jumper. My eyes drop at the movement, and my mouth gapes at the dark blue and purple bruises that encircle her wrists.
“Jodi?”
In a rush, she pulls her sleeves back down. “It’s nothing,” she mutters. “I...uh...just fell.”
I don’t say anything. She doesn't need me to point out that she’s quite obviously lying.
Pushing the chair out behind her, she grabs her work and races back to her seat, her head back down in defeat.
My heart aches for what she’s going through and my hands tremble, having experienced first-hand the fear she must feel. Obviously, I’m going to report it at the first opportunity I get—much to Jodi’s horror, I’d imagine—but other than that, all I can really do is be here and help her get the qualifications she needs to improve her life.
Thoughts of Jodi and how I can help her consume my mind for the rest of the lesson. I’ve refused to look at my phone since I placed my orders on Saturday, but I know there are emails from Joe waiting for me. I’m just not ready to deal with the reality of what I did Friday night.
Thanks to him, my nightmares are back full force. I’ve had hardly any sleep since I kicked him out. Every time I shut my eyes,he’sthere. It’s not bad enough that my memories of him never leave—he’s got to disrupt my slumber now, too.
Jodi glances up at me as everyone else leaves the room. Her eyes are begging for me to let this go, but we both know that I can’t.
“Jodi, wait,” I call and watch her shoulders sink. “I’m here, okay? If you need anything.”
“Thank you,” she mutters before basically running for the door.
Falling down on my desk, I rest back in the chair, wishing I could just take a little nap before my next class.
A knock sounds out around the room, and I’m forced to drag my heavy head up.
“Yes?” I call, expecting a student to come running back in because they’d forgotten something. But when the door opens, something very different emerges. A wicker basket.
“This was just delivered for you,” Caroline, our department admin says, walking over and dropping the basket to my desk. “I’m assuming you’re not expecting it from the look on your face.”
“No, I’m really not.” As I stare at the box, reality starts to find its way through my confusion, and my heart begins to race. Is this a joke? Has he found me? Is it going to explode when I open it? Crazy thoughts start running through my head as Caroline stands awkwardly, obviously waiting for me to open it to discover what’s hiding inside. “Thank you for bringing it in for me.”
“You’re welcome.” She rocks back and forth awkwardly on her feet. It’s not until I turn towards my computer that she gets the message that I’m not opening it in front of her, and she starts to back away from my desk.
It’s not until she’s closed the door behind her that I reach out and slide the box across the desk.
I open the folded tag, but inside all it says isMs Quinn Smith.My hands tremble as I undo the buckles holding it closed, and I brace myself for what I find.
“What the hell?” Pulling the lid open, I find it full of luxury girly products. Letting go of the lid, I start taking them out one at a time. Hand soap and lotion, bubble bath, candles, face masks, moisturiser, the list goes on. It’s not until I get to the last item that’s wrapped in soft pink tissue that I know for a fact who it’s from. It’s two ceramic signs, one withNo Regretsand the otherLive Life Your Waywritten in a script font across the front.
Tears burn up my throat until they hit the back of my eyes. Without even thinking about it, I know this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.
My eyes are still full of unshed tears when my next class arrives. I attempt to swallow down the emotion he caused as I slide the basket under my desk. I glance at my handbag, knowing that my phone is right there. I’ve probably got a million emails from him. I should look and thank him for the gift, but I know that by replying he’ll want more. I’ve already made a huge mistake when it comes to him, and I think I might be safer avoiding him and keeping our contact limited to Thursday nights in class. It might be the last thing I want in reality, but it’s all I can do right now.
* * *
The basketand my phone taunt me for the rest of the day. I stay a little later than I’d originally planned so that I can report what I’ve learned about Jodi, and by the time I leave, it’s completely dark outside.
The second I was alone, I woke my computer up and found my emails.
I ignored everything in my inbox and opened up a new one. Finding the name of the woman who deals with all the college’s safeguarding, I began my email about Jodi.
I hate that she’s going to think I’m sticking my nose in by doing this. She’s inevitably going to be called in for a meeting following the information I’m about to pass on, and she’s going to hate it.
If her home situation is anything like I’m imaging, then she does everything she can to hide and being pulled up and put on the spot is going to be her worst nightmare—aside from whoever it was who put those bruises on her.
I flexed my fingers a few times before they stopped shaking enough to allow me to type properly.
