Page 9 of My Only (My First, My Last)
At this hour—half an hour before our students arrived—we were usually setting up our classrooms or catching up in the breakroom over coffee.
Seeing some of the ladies outside the doors made me quicken my steps.
Something was wrong.
“Hey, good morning, y’all.” I greeted them as I walked up, scanning their faces. “What’s going on?”
Valerie pressed a hand to my shoulder.
“Girl.”
She shook her head, her locs swaying side to side. “You just missed a whole Jerry Springer segment.”
My brows shot up. “What?”
Just then, loud commotion echoed from inside the school.
I turned toward the door. “Is it safe to go in there?”
Another teacher, Charlese, giggled. “It’s safe now . Come on.”
“Some woman showed up here less than an hour ago,” Valerie started as we stepped inside, “claiming to be Janae’s husband’s girlfriend.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “Excuse me?”
As soon as we stepped in, the air felt different.
Hushed whispers. Tension.
Hysterical crying echoed down the hallway.
It was like I had walked into an alternate universe—like someone had ripped the heart out of Park Avenue Prep.
Janae and her husband had been married for over a decade.
Their love was the kind we all admired.
She always came to work glowing and smiling, talking about him like he hung the damn moon.
She spoke highly of him—about everything he did for her and their three children.
They even had a social media presence, celebrating their marriage online.
Just last month, we all double-tapped her anniversary post, her husband, beaming, holding her hand over a candlelit dinner.
The caption?
“Still my best friend. Still my forever.”
And now?
This.
Janae’s husband regularly sent her flowers, each with tiny love notes attached.
Whenever we saw a delivery, we didn’t even have to ask who they were for.
They were always for Janae.
Always from him.
But now, as I looked up the hall, I saw her collapsed into a chair, surrounded by teachers, her shoulders trembling. Her makeup smudged. Her hair slightly disheveled. She looked shattered.
I walked over, not to ask what happened.
Just to be there for her.
Because Janae was always there for everyone else.
She was everyone’s happy place.
She shared inspirational quotes in our group chat.
Lifted us up on our bad days.
And now, seeing her like this?
It hurt.
“Hey,” I said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder, lowering myself so our eyes met. “Are you okay?”
She patted her red, puffy eyes, sniffing back the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I can’t believe what the hell just happened.”
“ What happened?”
Her breath shuddered as she dropped her arms.
Her eyes darkened.
“This bitch came here...”
I jerked my head back. “Damn.”
“Approached me as soon as I got out of my car—talking about how she’s been sleeping with my husband for over a year.”
My stomach dropped.
“Just like that.” Her lip curled in disgust. “Showing me pictures. Text messages...”
My heart started pounding.
“Telling me she’s tired of hiding it. That he’s been telling her he’s gonna leave me for her.” She inhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling. Her eyes flicked around the hallway, the weight of everyone’s stares pressing in on her.
Then, as if making a decision in real time, she exhaled sharply.
“I can’t stay here.”
She jumped to her feet and turned on her shoes, storming toward her classroom.
I turned to the other teachers. “Should we call a sub or something? Like… what do we do right now?”
We all stood there, looking just as stunned as the next person.
It wasn’t just about what had happened.
It was about what it meant .
Because the kind of love we thought Janae had?
The kind we all looked up to?
The kind of love I hoped I would always have with Hassani?
It had been a lie.
Once Janae was gone, the rest of our staff held a quick meeting, deciding to secure a substitute teacher for her class.
With only ten minutes left before I had to greet my kids in the yard, I sat at my desk, trying to collect myself.
The entire morning had gone nothing like I planned.
Breakfast with Hassani. The unexpected call from Bryant Greene’s office.
Then showing up at school only to walk into the aftermath of a marriage crumbling.
It shook me.
Not just because it was Janae.
Not just because of how publicly it happened.
But because of how fast it happened.
One woman. One visit. One set of claims.
And a marriage fell apart.
I exhaled sharply.
Would Hassani ever put me in that position?
At work. Preparing to start my day.
Only to be approached by a woman claiming she had been seeing my husband behind my back.
“ Uh-uh ,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Nah.”
Hassani would never do some shit like that.
He loved me.
I trusted him.
But Janae trusted her husband too, right ?
I shook my head again, forcing the thought away.
That wasn’t my reality.
And it never would be.
Hassani would never put himself—or me—in a situation like that.
He wasn’t that kind of man.
I inhaled deeply, then stood.
Rolled my neck. Loosened my shoulders.
Shook off the weight of everything before stepping toward my classroom door.
Because in the eight years Hassani and I had been together—four years married—I trusted him.
I knew he had my best interests at heart.
Always.
I pushed open the door and stepped out, pushing the thought aside.
My life wasn’t Janae’s.
I reminded myself of that as I walked toward the yard, forcing a smile, preparing to greet my kids.
But no matter how much I tried to push it away; I couldn’t shake the feeling.
That something had already taken root.
Small.
Invisible.
But growing.