Chapter 58 Anna
Anna
“Roger’s teaching contract has been terminated.”
I blink once. Twice. “Excuse me?”
Cedric’s voice rumbles through the phone. “He’s no longer employed at Richmond Private.”
“Oh my God.” I clap a hand over my mouth. “He’s gone?”
“After reviewing your statement, as well as the separate report you lodged, detailing his neglect in taking the interschool sports allergen signs seriously, the board and I decided it was best he move on.”
The relief hits so hard I wobble my way over to April’s dining table.
Writing the statement about Roger was harder than I expected.
I sat in the corner of my living room with my laptop, staring at a blank document, trying to find the right way to articulate months of discomfort that I’d tried so hard to rationalize away.
At first, the brain fog was so thick, the words wouldn’t come.
Then came the guilt. Maybe I was reading too much into it.
Maybe I could have done something sooner and it wouldn’t have happened.
I spiraled so hard, picking apart every interaction we ever had.
Eventually, I had to step away. I made myself a cup of tea, took a few deep breaths, and reminded myself that it wasn’t my fault.
Roger’s behavior was just that—Roger’s behavior.
It wasn’t something I caused or could have prevented. He’s responsible for his own choices.
By the time I finished the statement and sent it to Cedric, I was a nervous wreck. But it was done. My truth was out there in black and white, and I felt lighter for sharing it.
“Thank you for letting me know,” I reply.
“You’re welcome. And Anna?”
“Yes?”
“We’ll see you in the new teaching year.”
“I’ll be there.” I end the call. My legs turn liquid and my phone falls from my grasp, clattering onto the table as I sink into a chair. “Holy crap,” I say, staring into space. “I think I’m gonna throw up. Or shit myself. I don’t know. Maybe both.”
“What’s happened?” April’s eyes widen. She, Gemma, and Max are all staring at me from April’s sofa.
“Roger’s been fired.”
Max is on his feet in seconds, crossing to me in a few strides. “That’s it? He’s gone?”
I nod, still not quite believing it. “Yeah.”
“That’s great, Weasel.” His hand lands firmly on my shoulder.
“None of this feels real,” I say, my voice low.
Two weeks after my meeting with the Local Authority Designated Officer, the full-length video from Liam landed in my inbox. That was three days ago. I still haven’t spoken to Liam since he sent it, because I haven’t known what to say. Where the hell did it come from? And how did he get it?
I almost didn’t press play because I didn’t want to relive that moment or see Roger’s slimy hands on me again. But, with April by my side and the comfort of Elliott wrapped in my arms, I found the strength.
And I’m glad I did. Watching it from the outside made writing my statement undeniable. Roger touching me wasn’t something I could minimize. It was assault, and I was finally able to admit it.
I forwarded the video to Cedric immediately. And now I have my job back and will never have to deal with red-flag Roger again.
“We should be celebrating,” Gemma says, already heading for the cabinet where April stashes her booze. She pulls a bottle of red from the cupboard and twists the cap off. “This calls for wine.”
“It’s barely noon,” Max points out.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Gemma says, lining up a row of three glasses.
April snorts. “Sure, help yourself to my good wine while I can’t drink because I’m breastfeeding. You know how that thrills me.”
Gemma waves a hand. “I’ll have yours for you.”
“How thoughtful,” April deadpans.
I accept the glass Gemma hands me but can’t bring myself to drink it.
My mind’s already somewhere else. On broad shoulders, sky blue eyes, and that stupid bloody dimple.
I blink myself back to reality to find Max looking at me with a small, knowing smile.
God, he’s infuriatingly perceptive. He always has been.
He nods at my phone. “Call him.”
I draw in a deep breath. I miss Liam. So much. Despite everything we’ve both been navigating these past few weeks. He’s only been in my life for a few months, but somewhere along the way he became the solid ground beneath my feet. And being apart from him? From Finn? That’s been hell.
It had to happen—I know that now. Neither of us saw it coming, how fast and how deep this thing between us would go.
With all the chaos and fear, time apart was the only way through.
We needed space to breathe. To grow. To figure out who we are without each other before we could be who we’re meant to be with each other.
This isn’t just infatuation. It’s love.
If we can survive the hard parts, then I’m confident we can make it through anything. Because what we have is real. It’s alive. I feel it with every breath I take. Like it’s burned into my bones.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling in a deep, shaky breath as I reach for my phone. “I think I’m ready.”
Gemma watches me like I’m her favorite TV show, sipping on her wine as I pull up Liam’s contact and hit call. My pulse is in a tailspin as the phone rings once. Twice. Three times. I’m about to hang up when the call connects.
“Anna?”
It’s not Liam.
“Roman?” My voice comes out as a croak. “Hey… where’s Liam?”
There’s a pause, then I hear the smile in his voice. “Are you near a TV? You might want to turn on BBC Sport.”
My brows pull in tight. “BBC Sport?”
“Just trust me.” The line goes dead.
I stare at my phone, then look up to find April, Max, and Gemma frozen, watching me.
“What the hell was that?” Gemma demands.
“I have no idea.”
My hands are unsteady as I cross to the TV and grab the remote, flicking through the channels until BBC Sport fills the screen. The air leaves my lungs as I scan the small text in the banner then cut to him.
brEAKING: MURPHY ADDRESSES HIS SUSPENSION
Liam’s sitting beside his coach opposite a reporter, the club crest looming behind them. He’s dressed in the club’s polo, his hair slightly mussed, and a lopsided grin tugging at his gorgeous mouth. God, he’s beautiful.
Chairs scrape across the floor behind me as everyone scrambles to crowd around the TV.
A man hands a piece of paper to Liam, and I watch as he stares at it before folding it neatly into a small square and pocketing it. “I had this whole speech planned out,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’m not reading that.”
His coach’s face crumples.
“Shit,” Max mutters.
“What’s he doing?” I whisper, unable to look away.
“How the hell should we know?” Gemma says. “We don’t watch sport.”
“Helpful,” I reply, still staring at the screen.
“He’s going off script,” Max says.
“Liam,” the reporter says. “Why don’t you tell everyone at home why you’re here today.”
Liam shifts forward, rubbing his hands over his thighs. The camera zooms in on his face and I catch the determination in his eyes.
“A few weeks ago, a video went viral.” He keeps his voice steady. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I didn’t make a mistake. I did. And I regret how I handled it. But I think you’re all owed an explanation.”
Jesus tittie-fuck.
“The video you saw was edited. We located the full footage, which tells a very different story. Which is why I’m here today. What you didn’t see was the woman I love being threatened.”
I freeze.
“Did he just—” Gemma starts.
“Admit he loves you on live television?” April finishes.
The reporter smirks. “Did you say the woman I love?”
Liam doesn’t hesitate. “Aye. I love her.”
“That’s it.” Gemma slams her wine glass on the coffee table. “You have to go to him. Right now.”
I spin to face her. “Go to him? I don’t even know where he is!”
“BBC Studios in West London,” Max says immediately.
“How do you—”
“I’m the director of a multimillion-dollar company. I know where London’s television studios are. We can make it if we leave now,” he explains, grabbing his keys from the counter.
“Now?” My brain short-circuits. “It’s lunchtime. The traffic will be—”
“I don’t care if Max has to drive on the footpath. You’re going,” Gemma says, marching to the front door and yanking it open.
I look at April helplessly. “What about—”
“Elliott and I are fine,” she says, bouncing Elliott gently in her lap. “We’ll watch from here. Now go!”
“This is insane!”
“Anna.” April’s voice is solid. “The man just told the entire country he loves you. This is your chance—your Notting Hill chance—go!”
“Dammit.” She’s right. I want to get to him so desperately. And I’ve always wanted my very own Notting Hill moment.
“Now!” Gemma shouts, winding her arm up and pointing out the door.
“Okay!” I run and snatch my bag from the kitchen counter before bolting to the door. “Let’s go!”