Page 32 of The Teacher
At that moment, the person who was in front of me leaves the ladies’ room, and now it’s my turn. But I would much rather stand out here and talk to Mr. Bennett. Maybe I can let the person behind me skip ahead.
But before I can propose the idea, Mr. Bennett smiles at me. “I don’t want to keep you, Addie. I’ll see you in class tomorrow. And don’t forget that letter.”
I feel a twinge of regret as Mr. Bennett disappears into the men’s room. It occurs to me that as angry as I am at Kenzie, I’m even angrier at Mrs. Bennett for making him so unhappy.
Chapter Twenty-Six
EVE
Nate seemed even more distractedthan usual during the meal and then subsequently on the drive home. And as soon as we walk in through the door to the garage, he lets out an exaggerated yawn.
“Oh, man,” he says. “I’m beat, Eve.”
His attempts to get out of sex are becoming more and more uncreative. Next, he will be telling me he has a migraine. “It’s fine,” I say. “Go to bed—you’re off the hook.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Off the hook?”
“I just mean we don’t need to have sex tonight.”
Nate looks taken aback. “If you want to have sex…”
The last thing I want is to get into a big, emotional argument with my husband on my birthday. So I just shake my head. “I’m tired too. I’ll meet you upstairs.”
And that’s what I will do on my first day of being thirty years old. I will turn in for the night at a record 9:30 in the evening.
While Nate heads upstairs, I hear a buzzing sound from inside my purse. When I retrieve my phone from my purse, I see a new message on Snapflash. There’s only one man who messages me on Snapflash, and at the beginning of the night, I had vowed to end things with that man.
I left a present for you at the door.
I smile down at the message for the sixty seconds until it disappears. I look up the stairwell to make sure Nate has disappeared into the bedroom. Then I creep over to our front door and crack it open.
There’s a shoebox at our door.
I snatch the shoebox off the front porch before anyone can see it. Jay must’ve slipped over to drop it off while we were at dinner, because the box definitely wasn’t here when we left.
I pull the lid off the box, and I can’t help but let out a gasp.
It’s a pair of Sam Edelman sling pumps in a glossy red color. I had been admiring them a couple of weeks ago in the store, and I was disappointed when the last pair disappeared, because they were just barely within my price range.
And now I realize where the pumps disappeared to. Even though money is tight for him, Jay used his minimal funds to buy me a birthday present he knew I would love.
Another message pops up on my phone:
Did youget it?
I love them. Thank you so much.
I knew you would.
My eyes tear up. Life is so incredibly unfair. I am stuck in what I am increasingly realizing is a loveless marriage, and meanwhile, I have no chance of being with the man who I really love.
I’m about to try on my new pair of shoes when I hear a noise outside the door. My heart leaps. I don’t even care if the neighbors see—I want more than anything for Jay to be standing outside my door.
I yank open the front door, ready to greet him with a big sloppy kiss. Except when I look out the front door, there’s nobody there. Aside from the porch lights, everything is dark.
“Hello?” I call out.
No answer.
