Page 71 of What He Doesn't Know

Guilt was eating way at me like a parasite, killing me from the inside. All I wanted was to be able to focus on Cameron, to give him all of me again, but it was too late.

I’d given a part of myself to Reese, a part I didn’t realize still existed. And now I was split into two perfectly even, jagged halves. I wasn’t whole, and therefore I couldn’tfeelwhole — couldn’t feel complete.

But I had to try.

I’d made a vow to Cameron, one I never intended to break.

“You’re an amazing husband,” I countered, though my voice was soft. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than you know.” He tilted my chin up with his knuckles, kissing me almost as if he knew my lips had belonged to someone else that week. “I hope we get a snow day. It would be nice to just waste a Tuesday away under the covers, wouldn’t it?”

I smiled. “That would be perfect.”

“Well, I’ll pray for it, then.”

We spent the rest of the evening on the couch, too, ordering pizza to be delivered somewhere around six. Later that night, Cameron carried me up the stairs to our bedroom and made love to me softly and sweetly, kissing every inch of my body like he only had his lips and his hands to tell me how much he loved me.

And how sorry he was.

I faked an orgasm early, and once Cameron was sated and falling asleep, I snuck into our bathroom and sobbed.

Reese hadn’t so much as looked at me since the morning after what happened.

He’d been very tactful about avoiding me, staying out of the café around lunch time and steering clear of the kindergarten wing at all costs. He’d even told Mr. Henderson that he didn’t require my help on the spring concert project any longer, which meant there was really no reason for us to see each other at all.

So when I walked into our very loud and lively teachers’ café Monday morning and saw him laughing with Jennifer Stinson in the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks.

“I’m telling you, there is no way we’ll get a snow day tomorrow. Mr. Henderson would rather go on a diet than give us a day off,” Sheldon said, and a few of the teachers laughed and nodded their agreement. “Remember last year? We had seven inches over night and half the students didn’t show, but we still had to be here.”

“Yeah, but they’re calling for eight inches at least tonight,” another teacher said.

“One inchcanmake quite the difference,” Jennifer chimed in, and the way she looked at Reese when she said it made my fingers curl into fists at my side.

She sipped from the coffee mug in front of her and Reese smiled back, but when his eyes flicked to me, the smile fell.

“I say we take bets,” Sierra said from the table where she was eating a large slice of coffee cake without any coffee to accompany it. “Who thinks we’re going to be here tomorrow?”

Everyone started debating again while Sheldon pulled out a paper and pen to write down bets, but Reese just held me with his gaze, both of us ignoring the fuss and watching each other, instead. After a moment, he murmured something to Jennifer and stood, walking over to the coffee pot at the counter. I followed.

I stood at his side for longer than I should have without saying a single word. I just watched him unscrew the top from his Thermos and refill it.

“What do you think?” I asked after a while. “Snow day or no snow day?”

Reese scoffed, shoving the coffee pot under the faucet to rinse it before refilling it with water. He’d drained the last of it, so he worked on making a fresh pot while I stood there wishing he’d look at me.

“Does it matter? We’ll have to make the day up at the end of the year if they do call it.”

“True,” I whispered. “But, it might be fun to have a day off.”

He shrugged. “I guess. I’d just sit at home, so I’d rather work, to be honest.”

Reese was so cold, so shut off from me, and I realized I’d never been in that position before. I’d always been the one to light him up when I walked into the room, and now I couldn’t even get a smile.

“What is Jennifer doing here?”

“She’s donating some flowers for the concert and asked to meet to talk about it over coffee this morning.” He shoved the pot of water back under the filter and flipped the button to brew, then he finally looked at me. “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? The possibility of a snow day and Jennifer Stinson?”

I swallowed. “I don’t know, I just wanted to talk to you.”