“You don’t want to know why he just ditched you?” Ivy asks, surprise threading through her voice.
I wince.
“Wow, thanks for the soft delivery,” I say dryly.
“Shit. Sorry, Ash,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “No, you’re right. He did ditch me.”
I held onto the idea that he had some kind of emergency, something that made him leave without saying goodbye. But Christmas came and went. Then New Year’s. Still nothing. No message. No explanation. I guess I’ve had to accept the truth. He left because hewantedto, not because hehadto.
I’d let myself get caught up in whatever was happening between us, thinking maybe it meant something. Clearly, I read it wrong. Maybe he picked up on how into him I was and decided walking away was easier than facing it. Unfortunately, as much as I told Ivy I’ll just avoid him, that’s not practical when we work together.
“Ash?” Ivy prompts when I stay silent.
“I know why he left,” I say quietly. “He’s just not interested. That’s all there is to it.”
She lets out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry, Ash.”
“Yeah… me too.” I pull into the parking lot and find a spot. “I just got here. Time to face the music.”
“You’ve got this,” she says confidently. “Call me if you need to, okay?”
DoI have this? It doesn’t feel like it, but I don’t exactly have a choice.
“Thanks, Ivy. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She ends the call, and I sit in the silence for a minute longer. Normally, I’d make a beeline for the teachers’ lounge and grab a coffee, but I brought one from home today; less chance of bumping into him before I’m ready.
I head straight to my classroom, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. My bags hit the floor, and I sink into my chair behind the desk. I’ve just lifted my coffee for a sip when there’s a knock.
The door creaks open, and my heart sinks when I see Ben standing there. Of course he saw me pull in; his office has a perfect view of the parking lot.
“Ash, can we talk about Christmas Eve?” he asks, stepping just inside.
I draw in a steady breath. “I don’t think there’s much to say, Ben. Maybe it’s best if we just keep things professional.”
“Please,” he says, his voice low and tight. “I owe you an explanation.”
I close my eyes briefly. “Fine,” I reply, keeping my tone even. “I’m listening.”
If we clear the air now, maybe we can put this behind us and go back to being just colleagues and pretend the rest never happened.
He shuts the door gently, then crosses the room to perch on the edge of my desk, like he used to before the break, back when he’d hang around after school just to talk. My stomach twists at the memory.
I stand abruptly, grabbing my coffee and moving to the other side of the room, putting space between us. I busy my hands with the pots of colored pencils, lining them up on the tables.
“Ashlyn,” he says softly. “Please. Look at me.”
I sigh, taking a second before looking across at him.
He moves on the edge of the desk, clearly uncomfortable, as his hands twist in his lap. I don’t say anything. I’m not about to make this easier for him.
“I should never have walked out on you in Eden,” he says finally. “That was shitty.”
I put the pot of colored pencils down and cross my arms. “Yeah, it was.”
