The Last Strike by A.R. Henry

Chapter 21

I spend the next few days in bed crying my eyes out. I have to go back to work Monday, and I’m not ready. Seeing Cami—and possibly her father—is going to split me wide open.

I haven’t heard from Weston. I’m not surprised. I’m sure Amber spewed some bullshit that was halfway believable. They’re probably living my happy little family dream life right now and here I am. Laying in a mountain of blankets on my couch, eating my fourth tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and watching Pride and Prejudice for the millionth time—the Matthew Macfadyen version is the only version that should exist, in my mind—just living my best sad girl life.

Hale’s called a few times to check on me. He’s the only person I’ve told besides Ash about what happened at the stadium. Ash told me she would be over tonight to, and I quote, “Give me one more night to be a sad bitch.” Isn’t she the sweetest?

Once she arrives, she wraps me in a big hug for what feels like an hour and lets me cry without shame when Mr. Darcy calls Elizabeth, Mrs. Darcy at the end of the movie. I tell her to sleep over because if she doesn’t make me go to school in the morning, I don’t think I would have the guts to go myself.

In the morning she acts like a doting house mother, forcing me in the shower, laying out my clothes, and before I walk out the door, she hands me a travel coffee mug with an encouraging, “You can do it!” I feel better for about two seconds.

Luckily, I make it into my classroom without any bumps until I hear the intercom buzz announcing that its eight and soon students will start rolling in. I can’t look any of their sweet faces in the eye as the file in. I stay hidden behind my computer until a shadow looms over me.

Unless one of my kids had a miraculous growth spurt overnight, that means a parent is standing in front of me. I close my eyes and say a prayer to the good Lord that it’s not the one parent I definitely don’t want to see today. But Jesus didn’t take the wheel this morning.

When I look up and meet Weston’s eyes they’re furious. I gulp obnoxiously, my damn body betraying me at the sight of him. I can’t help the attraction. I thought he was it for me. I thought he was the Mr. Darcy to my Elizabeth, but baby this ain’t a fairytale.

I clear my throat and stand. “Mr. Bell, I have a class to teach. Is there something I can help you with?” Hoping I don’t sound as sad as I feel, but I’m sure he can hear the despair in my voice. I miss him.

He clenches his fists together a few times before angrily whispering, “Cherry, Get your ass in the hallway right now.”

“No. I have to get to work. We can talk after school.” We aren’t going to talk after school, but the quicker I get him out of here the better. If I have to look at him much longer my walls are going to break. I start to tear up, and he sees.

“Court, baby, why are you crying? What the hell is going on? When I saw you at the game you looked fine. Then I saw you leave with that guy and when you came back you looked pissed. Did he do something? Or was it Amber?”

When he says her voice it's like a flip switches inside of me. I take a moment to dry my tears and put myself together. When I’m done, I’m standing a few inches taller with my chin jutted out slightly. “I’m fine. Please leave. I have to get the kids started on something before they get me in trouble.”

He sees right through me, and when he whispers that stupid nickname I’ve come to love and reaches for me I jerk out of the way.

I can’t be near him anymore, so like a chicken, I turn and make my way to the front of my classroom. He stands by my desk for a few minutes, but once I start teaching about multiplication and division he finally relents and leaves the room.

Somehow, I make it through the rest of the day, and when I grab my phone out of my purse when I head to my car, I see three missed calls and four texts from Weston.

They both make the tears start anew.

Weston: Call me, Cherry. You owe me an explanation.

Weston: Please.

Weston: Just tell me what I did. I need to see you.

Weston: I went on a hike today. It didn’t feel right without you. I couldn’t even make it to the top. I miss you.

I don’t respond.

For the next four weeks I didn't respond, and eventually he stopped trying, and honestly that hurt worse. He doesn’t come to school anymore to pick up or drop off Cami. I’ve seen Amber a few times and each time she acts like she might speak to me, I turn and walk in the opposite direction.

Cami doesn’t speak to me unless I call on her, and she looks sad. I’m not any better. The dark circles under my eyes are an obvious indication of the little sleep I’ve been getting. My hair is probably going to crack under the pressure of the messy buns I’ve been living in. If I’m not at school, I live in baggy sweatpants and oversized t-shirts.

I can’t keep going on like this, but I don’t know what else to do. I made my choice. I have to live with it. But did I make the right one?