The Teacher(59)

He had to see that one coming. “Fine,” he says. “Is that all?”

I have one final demand that I came up with after talking to Jay. This is going to be the hardest one for him, but it’s not negotiable.

“You need to resign from Caseham High,” I say. “You can’t ever work as a teacher for children again.”

Nate sucks in a breath. “What? You can’t be serious. This is my livelihood, Eve.”

“You can still teach. You can teach adult education. But no children. Never again.”

“Eve, come on,” he chokes out. “I can’t possibly agree to that. All the other stuff—fine. But I’m not going to give up teaching high school.”

“Fine. Then we can go to the principal and let her decide.”

Nate pushes past me and walks over to the sofa, where he sinks into the cushions. He leans forward and presses his fingertips into his temples. “Please don’t do this. Be reasonable. You have to be reasonable.”

“This is as reasonable as it gets. Really, you ought to be in jail.”

“She’s sixteen. That’s an adult in Massachusetts.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s how you think of her. Like an adult.” I shake my head in disgust. “You need to decide. If you don’t resign, I am going to go to the principal about it.”

He lifts his face to stare up at me. “And you’re sure she would believe you?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

He rises from the sofa and lets out a snort. “Everyone at the school knows you’re a complete mess, Eve. You’re not exactly trustworthy.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean?”

“For starters, you’re drunk at six in the evening.” He ticks it off on his fingers. “Also, you hoard shoes. It’s really nuts. If anyone got a look at our closet, they would lock you up.”

My face burns. He’s decided to play dirty, as it turns out. I shouldn’t have expected less. “I only have, like, a dozen pairs in my closet. Plenty of women have that many shoes.”

“Um, you think I don’t know about all the shoes you keep in that giant luggage?”

I did not think he knew about those shoes. But it makes sense he would. I imagine he was in the closet one day, looking for a suitcase for a trip, and he discovered my stash. The thought of him knowing my secret makes me burn with humiliation, but it doesn’t change anything.

“Really,” he says, “it’s your word against mine. Well, mine and Addie’s. She’ll never admit to anything.”

“Right, well…” I lift a shoulder. “Good thing I snapped a photo of the two of you kissing.”

What I’d really love to have is a photo of Nate’s face when I drop that little nugget. All the color drains out of him, and his whole body seems to sag. Yes, I have a photo of him kissing his sixteen-year-old student. He has no power over me.

“Fine,” he growls under his breath. “You win, Eve. I’ll resign.”

With those satisfying words, he turns away from me and stomps up the stairs. I have no idea where he’s going, so I follow him, taking the steps two at a time. I find him in our bedroom. He has hauled a duffel bag out of our closet, and he’s throwing clothing into it haphazardly.

“What are you doing?” I say.

“Packing.” He looks at me like I’m completely stupid. “You’re kicking me out, aren’t you? Am I allowed to bring some clothes with me, or do I only get to keep the shirt on my back?”

“You can pack.”

“Very generous of you.” Nate rifles through a dresser drawer and grabs his favorite hooded sweatshirt—the one with a hole in the pocket—and tosses it into his bag. “You know, I was always good to you. I never lost my temper. I never complained when you bought five billion pairs of shoes.” He kicks the luggage containing all my hidden shoes. “I came home every single night. What more did you want from me?”

He looks up at me, and I realize this isn’t a rhetorical question. He truly believes all those things were enough to make him a good husband. That you can check all the right boxes, and it’s okay, even if you don’t love your wife. Even if you cheat on her with a little girl.

There’s no point in trying to explain to him why what he’s done is so wrong. Instead, I go back downstairs and let him pack in peace. After today, he won’t be my problem ever again.



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Chapter Fifty-One

ADDIE

I AM in the middle of doing my history homework when I get the message on Snapflash.

I’m surprised to see it. Nathaniel is the only one who messages me on there, and he told me earlier today that we were going to cool it for a little while. So I don’t understand why there’s a new message waiting for me. But of course, it’s not like I could resist. Especially if the alternative is learning about the feudal states.

I open the app and find a message waiting for me. It’s short and to the point:



Eve knows.

A cold sensation slides down my spine. Eve knows. This is the catastrophe that we both knew had to be avoided at all costs. Mrs. Bennett knows about the two of us. And that means…



I’m sorry, Addie. I can’t see you ever again.