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Her eyes travel up and down my body. “You’re just his type.”
“I… Mrs. Kammes, I’m sorry—”
“Oh, he isn’t cheating on me, no worries there.” She smiles, but her eyes are empty. “He has me permission. Of course, not with someone your age, which I suppose is why he’s been doing it behind my back.”
Wes’s jaw is clenched tight, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I understand why you’re attracted to him,” Mrs. Kammes goes on. “He’s a good-looking man. It just irks me that he thinks I don’t know.”
My stomach turns, and I’m grateful I haven’t had a chance to eat breakfast. I thought I was past having to pretend being into that disgusting excuse of a man.
“He’s not here,” Mrs. Kammes says. “Disappeared last night. You wouldn’t happen to know where he went?”
“No,” I say thickly. “He texted me and said our normal meeting time this morning would work.”
At that, she turns to Wes with a concerned look. “So maybe hedidn’twant to leave.”
“I already told you that’s probably the case,” Wes says gently. “You said you found his clothes in a pile in the office. Why would he strip and then leave? That doesn’t make sense. Unless he had some sort of mental breakdown or something, I guess.”
Mrs. Kammes sniffles, and Wes pulls her into a hug. He locks eyes with me over her shoulder and nods toward my car.
Thank fuck.
“I… I’ll go. Sorry to disturb you. I hope he turns up.”
Mrs. Kammes doesn’t acknowledge me as I go, shutting the door behind me. The moment I’m out of her sight, my shoulders feel fifty pounds lighter, even though I’m still filled with nausea.
She thinks Iwillinglysleep with her husband. I’d never.Never.He’s repulsive.
But then I realize that’s not quite right. He’s not repulsive—not anymore.
As I slide into my car, I glance up at the house. Relief fills me as I realize I never have to come back here again.
Never have to see him again.
Never have to let himtouchme again.
I close my eyes, lean back against my seat, and smile. My feelings for Wes may still be complicated, but one thing will never change. I’m eternally grateful to him for what he did last night.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kellan
The police find Kammes’s body on Sunday. A funeral is held for him on Friday.
We all show up, figuring it could look suspicious if we don’t. We’re Wes’s friends, after all. Athelia comes too, since she was one of his students.
The authorities have ruled Kammes’s death a homicide, but they have no leads. I expected nothing less. Wes knows what he’s doing.
On Sunday, the funeral itself is miserable. Athelia is a ball of nervous energy. Cal keeps an arm around her almost the entire time, which seems to help, but not enough.
As planned, Wes plays the part of a heartbroken stepson. Mrs. Kammes is distraught, but I can’t find it in me to pity her. She cheated on her first husband for years and saddled her son with an asshole for a father figure.
Her pain feels justified.
Once the service is over, Wes weaves his way through the crowd toward us. His eyes are on Athelia, who’s leaning into Cal. She looks distraught—broken up over her professor’s death. If I didn’tknow the reason she looks that way is because she’s so uncomfortable, I’d be convinced.
“Get her out of here,” Wes says to me, not loud enough for anyone else to hear. “Find some way to distract her.”
