And now Dale had damaged her AP program and possibly endangered its funding.
Before the school year ended, Martin was setting up a meeting with that asshole. Right was right, no matter the wounded state of his heart. Rose deserved better than Dale’s petty revenge, and Martin refused to let himself remain a bludgeon used against her.
Against Rose. Christ, Rose.
He rubbed two fingers between his brows as the analog clock on the wall ticked and ticked. All week, he’d been hustling out of her classroom at the end of second and seventh periods, much more quickly than he had the rest of the year. In return, Rose had been arriving much closer to the end of the five-minute gap between classes than she usually preferred.
They’d barely passed within spitting distance of one another for days. Not that he hadn’t seen her in the halls, chin high, makeup immaculate, eyes swollen.
Well, early in the week, anyway. The last day or two, she appeared to have recovered her normal equanimity. He supposed he was glad, since he didn’t wish suffering on her, especially not the sort of gut-twisting longing he was currently experiencing.
But shit, having the woman he loved get over him in three days kind of blew.
And now he was going to have to linger in her room, have to see her calm acceptance of their relationship’s end up close, because he couldn’t let Keisha’s e-mail go unremarked. Rose needed to know he understood the pain of such terrible news, and he needed to tell her he was sorry.
They’d tried, but maybe he could have done more.
The bell rang before he figured out exactly what he wanted to say. He distractedly sent his students on their way with a reminder of their project’s due date, and while he was still speaking, Rose walked in.
She hadn’t delayed long enough to avoid him. That was…surprising. Maybe seeing him didn’t hurt her anymore?
The prospect stung worse than when Kurt had deliberately rubbed him with those horrible nettles by the river. Worse even than having her within arm’s length but a half a world away, and that was saying something.
Or maybe—he clung to the possibility—she wanted to say something about the rosters too? Despite how much his presence pained her?
“I saw the e-mail,” he said quietly, as soon as the stragglers had neared the door. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Her high brow crinkled. “What e-mail?”
Fuck. The sight of him definitely didn’t hurt her anymore.
She angled herself behind her desk and started pulling papers from her briefcase, but her work area was still mostly covered with his laptop, his grading, and other detritus. Double fuck.
And triple fuck, because now he was going to be the one to tell her horrible news.
He gathered his papers in a hasty stack and shoved them into his briefcase, eyes averted from her as he considered what to say.
“You missed a few.” She passed over another pile. “Here you go.”
Her hand brushed his arm, and she didn’t even flinch. Not like he did.
Yeah. She was completely over him.
He tried to think past the ache. “The class lists for each prep are finally out.”
“I assume my AP numbers are way down.” Her lips tightened, but other than that, she might have been discussing marker colors for the whiteboards. “Two classes, huh?”
He nodded. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she said, and she even sounded sincere.
Damn, she put up a good front.
“Maybe we can try something new next year.” He fumbled for something more to say, but found nothing. “I’ll think over the summer.”
“Trying something new.” She seemed to taste the words, turn them over in her mouth. “Sounds like a plan.”
If she’d only recruit her former in-laws for help, but…
