The Teacher(45)

“You have no idea how much your presence in my life has changed me,” he says. “Before you came along, I was completely blocked. And now I’m writing poetry again! For the first time in a long time.”

That’s incredible. Especially because all I want to do is write poems about Nathaniel Bennett. I want to fill a whole notebook with verses about the way the lines crinkle around his eyes. “Will you show me one of your poems?”

“It’s all I want to do.” He smiles. “Eve… she has no interest in my poetry. She never did. Everything with her has to be practical, and she thinks poetry is such a waste.”

I never liked Mrs. Bennett, and now I almost feel like I hate her. Nathaniel loves poetry—what kind of wife wouldn’t be supportive of that?

Nathaniel pulls up on the curb a full block away from my house. “I don’t think I should get closer than this.”

I nod, knowing he’s right. I hate that we have to hide, but there’s also something exciting about it. “It’s fine.”

“Addie…” He reaches out to touch my face, and he pulls away at the last second. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Not a soul. Not your mom, not your friends—nobody.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it.” He stares at me through the shadows in his car. “My entire career is in your hands. I’m counting on you.”

He had pulled his hand away during the drive, and I reach out to take it now. “You can trust me.”

I can tell how badly he wants to kiss me, but we both understand the wisdom of not kissing in a car in the middle of the street, even under the cloak of darkness. We can steal moments in the darkroom, but that’s it. Anything else would be too big a risk.

But maybe it won’t always be that way. Maybe there will be a time in the future when we can be together.



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Chapter Thirty-Nine

EVE

I AM GRADING test papers on the living room sofa when Nate comes home.

The front door slams, and a second later, he is standing in front of me in the middle of the living room. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.” I smile at him briefly, then go back to grading papers. I’m leaving to meet Jay in an hour, and I’m hoping to get through a large chunk of the midterms. “Don’t forget I’m going out tonight.”

Nate plops down next to me on the sofa. He smiles at me—he looks so dazzlingly handsome when he smiles. “What are you doing?”

“Grading midterms.”

He tugs the stack of papers out of my hands. “Feel like taking a break?”

“What?”

I genuinely don’t know what he’s talking about until I see the look on his face. He tosses my exam papers on the coffee table and grabs me, pushing me down onto the sofa. His lips descend on mine, and he kisses me roughly.

“Whoa!” I struggle to get out from under him. “Nate, I’m in the middle of something!”

“So what?” He silences my protest with another kiss. “You can do that later.”

This is so wild. Usually, we have sex, like, a dozen times the entire year, and now suddenly he wants me two days in a row. And his behavior seems strange. It almost feels like he’s hungry for me, like he’s ready to rip my clothing off, which is unusual for him. I haven’t seen this kind of passion from him in so many years.

I don’t know what’s going on. Does he have a brain tumor? Because that’s the only thing I can think of to explain this.

I would probably go to the bedroom with him if I didn’t have plans for tonight. But the truth is, I’m looking forward to seeing Jay. I don’t want to cancel, although I’ve never had a dilemma like this before.

“Nate.” I forcibly push him off me. “Maybe…could we do this another time? I want to get through these papers before I go out…”

“Seriously?”

“Yes!”

Nate looks at me in disbelief as he allows me to disentangle myself from his embrace. “I don’t get you, Eve. You are always whining that we don’t have sex enough, and now I want to do it, and you’re pushing me off you.”

“Nate…”

“No, forget it.” He climbs off me, a scowl on his lips. “I’ll take care of it myself then.”

I jump off the couch, calling his name as he storms off. The bedroom door slams upstairs, and now I’m the one staring in disbelief.

What on earth was that all about?



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Chapter Forty

ADDIE

THE MEETINGS of Reflections used to be the best part of my day, but now all I want is for it to be over so that I can sneak off with Nathaniel to the darkroom.

“This whole poem,” Lotus says to me, “it’s too…sappy.”

“Sappy?” I repeat. The poem she’s looking at is one that I wrote while thinking about Nathaniel. It’s a love poem, but I didn’t think it was sappy.

Your eyes are brown

like freshly fallen

autumn leaves

I crave your embrace

in the misty night

I see you every day

But when I can’t be with you