Chapter 46
Chapter
Forty-Six
FALLON
I've ignored him all day, and he hasn't made it easy.
Those worried looks across the classroom, when he kept glancing up from his desk like he could somehow force me to meet his eyes through sheer willpower.
The way his gaze lingered, heavy and questioning, even as I turned away to write on the board.
The deliberate way he positioned himself near my desk after the bell rang, waiting until the other students filtered out, creating a wall of silent expectation between me and escape.
I grabbed my bag and fled to the teachers' lounge before he could say a word, before I had to see the questions written across his face, before my resolve could crack under the weight of his confusion.
I've spent most of the day hiding there like a coward.
Grading papers I've already graded twice.
Rereading lesson plans I know by heart, the words blurring together until they mean nothing.
Making forced small talk with colleagues whose names I can barely remember through the panic clawing at my chest, through the echo of that man's threat playing on repeat in my skull. Your boyfriend will pay the price.
God, I can't bear to say these things to his face.
Can't look at him and explain that what we had—whatever this desperate, beautiful, forbidden thing was—is over.
That I'm choosing my abusive husband over him.
Can't watch his expression shatter when I tell him the truth, or worse, the lie I'll have to tell instead.
Can't see the moment he stops looking at me like I'm worth saving.
So I'm sitting in the teachers' lounge again at the end of the day, staring at the clock and waiting for everyone to leave so I can escape without seeing him. Cowardly. Pathetic. Exactly the kind of woman I swore I'd never become when I was young and stupid and thought I would never be weak.
Thirty minutes after the final bell, the building falls quiet around me.
Empty hallways. Distant sound of custodial staff beginning their rounds, the mechanical hum of floor polishers echoing off lockers.
Safe. Or as safe as I can be when staying away from Kade feels like drowning but going to him might get him killed.
I pick up my things with hands that won't quite steady and make my way down the hall.
Each step feels like walking toward execution—my own or Kade's, I'm not sure which.
The faculty parking lot is almost empty now, just a few cars scattered across the asphalt under the late afternoon sun.
Mine, Trish's massive SUV with the dented bumper, and one I don't recognize. Probably custodial staff.
Relief floods through me as I reach my car without incident. No Kade waiting by my door. No confrontation I'm not strong enough to handle. I climb in, toss my bag on the back seat, reach for my start button—
The passenger door opens.
Kade slides in before I can react, filling the small space with tension and anger and that scent that's haunted me all day—sugar and amber, the scent that makes my chest ache.
"Drive."
"Kade, I—"
"I said drive." His voice cuts through my pathetic attempt at an excuse like a blade.
Cold. Commanding. Nothing like the gentle way he usually speaks to me.
So I do. My hands shake as I start the car, my whole body vibrating with panic and guilt and the terrible knowledge that I'm about to destroy the only good thing left in my life.
I pull out of the lot with no destination in mind, just following his directions.
He guides me with single words—left, right, straight—each one clipped and harsh.
We end up at a small park a couple blocks from the school, tucked away from the main road.
I pull in and park beneath a massive oak tree that provides the illusion of privacy, its branches casting shadows across the windshield.
Neither of us moves. The silence stretches between us, thick with everything I can't say.
"Why the fuck have you been ignoring me?"
The demand hits like a physical blow. I stare at my hands on the steering wheel and try to find words that won't shatter us both.
"I just can't do this anymore."
"Do what?" The question comes out dangerous, controlled fury barely leashed.
"Us." I force the word out, gesture vaguely between us with one trembling hand. "This."
"What's wrong? Why are you doing this?" His hand reaches toward me but stops short of contact, hovering in the space between us like he's afraid I'll break if he touches me. "Did Daniel do something? Did he hurt you again?"
I shake my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. The lie tastes bitter but necessary—bitter like poison I'm forcing both of us to swallow.
"He can't do much." My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. "I just... I can't be this person anymore. A person who cheats on her husband and sleeps with her student. It's not me."
Even as I say the words, I know they're both truth and lie tangled together.
I am that person—the cheater, the corrupter, the woman who crossed every professional and moral boundary because she was desperate for connection, starving for touch that didn't hurt.
But God, he's worth it. Worth all of it and more.
Worth every bit of hell I'll pay for this later.
This is killing me. The look on his face—confusion shifting into hurt, then hardening into something that looks like determination—is breaking me into pieces I'll never be able to reassemble.
"So you don't want me?"
It's not quite a question, more like an accusation. He moves closer, shifting in the passenger seat until he fills my peripheral vision with his face, those green eyes I love getting lost in now searching mine for the truth I'm desperately trying to hide.
I shake my head. I can't speak the lie out loud. If I try, my voice will crack and give everything away.
His hand comes up to my neck, thumb brushing the rapid pulse beneath my jaw that betrays every word I've just said. His touch is gentle despite the anger radiating from him. "I don't think you mean that, Peaches. I think you want this. You're just scared."
"Kade—"
"Don't worry. I'm taking care of everything." His voice drops lower, more intimate, and I hear the promise in it that terrifies me. "This is almost over."
Then his lips brush across mine. Soft. Gentle.
Everything I've been desperately craving in the hours since I last felt his touch.
When his tongue traces the seam of my mouth I open for him without thinking, deepening the kiss with a whimper I can't contain.
He tastes like mint and promises I can't afford to believe, like hope I don't deserve.
His hand slides from my neck down my side, fingers skimming my ribs before moving to my thigh.
Slowly. Deliberately. Giving me time to stop him even as we both know I won't, know I'm too weak and too desperate to push away this last moment of feeling wanted, loved.
His touch burns through the thin fabric of my skirt as his palm moves higher, higher, until his fingers find the damp silk of my panties.
I moan into his mouth as he rubs slow circles that make my hips lift without permission, my body betraying every lie I've tried to tell.
"Seems like you still want me."
The words penetrate the haze of desire like ice water. Your boyfriend will pay the price. The man's threat crashes back with brutal clarity, dousing the heat between us with cold terror that's more effective than any amount of willpower.
I pull back, panting. "I don't want this."
His hand stills against me. "What?"
I need to hurt him. Need to lie so well he believes it, so completely that he walks away and stays safe from whatever trouble Daniel has brought crashing into our lives. Need to make him hate me enough to forget me.
"I want to work things out with Daniel." The words come mechanically. "He's promised to treat me better. I want to give this a real shot."
Kade laughs. But there's no humor in it—just sharp edges and disbelief and something that sounds dangerously close to heartbreak.
"You're fucking joking, right?"
I look away from him, staring at the dashboard like it holds answers. I can't bear to watch this land, to see the moment he realizes I'm serious. "No. Please just go and leave me alone."
The tears build behind my eyes but I force them back through sheer will. I can't break yet. Not until he's gone. Not until he's safe and far away from me.
"Peaches, please." His voice cracks on my nickname, the sound of it nearly undoing my resolve. "Tell me this is a joke. Tell me you don't mean it."
My hand fumbles for the unlock button, finally finding it and pressing with more force than necessary. The click echoes too loud in the confined space. Actions speaking what my mouth can't say: Leave. Go. Stay safe even if it kills me.
The door opens. Cool air rushes in, stealing the warmth his presence created, making me shiver.
"I love you."
The words hit like bullets to the chest, each syllable a mortal wound. I still can't look. Can't watch him walk away from me. Can't see if he's crying too.
The door slams.
I put the car in drive and pull away before I can change my mind, before I can call him back and confess everything—the threat, the fear, the desperate love that's consuming me from the inside out.
The park disappears in my rearview mirror.
Then the school. Then everything blurs as the dam finally breaks.
I don't make it far before I have to pull off the road, vision too blurred with tears to see the lines.
My car jerks to a stop on some random residential street and I just sit there in the fading afternoon light and cry until there's nothing left.
Great heaving sobs that steal my breath and leave me hollow, gasping, broken in ways I didn't know I could still break.
Eventually I'll have to pull myself together. Drive home. Face Daniel with the mask firmly back in place, pretending my heart isn't shattered across the floor of my car. Play the dutiful wife.
But right now I just sit and mourn the only man I've ever loved. The only man who ever made me feel safe. The only man who ever saw past the carefully constructed facade to the woman drowning underneath.
The man I can never have.