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My orgasm comes so abruptly and with such force, I’m not prepared for the tidal wave that presses its way through my whole body. Heat spreads from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes. I clamp my hand down firmly over my mouth to keep the sounds of my pleasure from carrying beyond my bedroom.
The waves crest and seem to carry on without end. As my orgasm wanes, my legs sag into the bed. I have to hope he’shalfas good in bed as my imagination thinks that he is.
I also need to make sure that I’m never alone with that man for the rest of my time here. I clearly cannot be trusted near him. I’m not convinced I have enough self-control to deny those impulses. I’m a great actress… but I’m not that good.
In the aftermath of my orgasm, while I’m happily relaxed, my mind finally pauses its overthinking for just long enough for me to drift into something resembling sleep.
I don’t think I sleep for long afterward. All I know is that every single one of my dreams was colored by that same fantasy. All Daniel, no waiting. Everything is so vivid. It feels so painfully real. When my alarm clock finally goes off, it feels like it’s a trick. I want to throw it across the room in protest for waking me up again.
After a very indulgent but freezing shower, I don’t have much time left to get ready for work.
Which is for the best. Because every time I look at the generic, fast fashion clothing that fills my closet, I’m hit all over again by a new wave of despair.
How the mighty have fallen.
I shake my head to clear my negative thoughts. I can’t succumb to the pull of my depression. It took far too long for Abram to pull me out of it the first time, and I owe it to him to give this second chance at life everything I’ve got.
I choose a simple dress for today: a sage green number with a sash that wraps around my ribs and ties into an oversized bow just below my breasts. The front has a neckline that’s bordering on indecent, but I pin it together to sell the image I’m trying to present to the world.
Sofia is a good girl. She doesn’t wear intentionally provocative dresses in the hopes of running into a man she’s been lusting after all night long. I choose modest makeup, aiming for as natural of a look as possible. I pin my bangs off to one side and leave the rest of my hair down. I don’t bother with flashy jewelry; I don’t even have anything worth wearing anymore. Simple studs in my ears and a thin, understated bracelet.
Besides, now that it’s out of my system, I can push all thoughts of Daniel from my mind and refocus on myself. Ithasto be out of my system. Allowing something like that to happen between us would only lead to trouble. A woman like Sofia wouldn’t be occupied with love or lust. She has a higher purpose.
The last time that I lost focus on my goals because of something stupid like my heart, I fell for Nikolai. Given how that ended, it’s not something that I’m going to rush into for a second time.
The only thing I took with me from Nikolai’s house was my engagement ring, and I had to ditch that as soon as possible after my brush with death. I curse myself for not having sold it instead.
I glance at myself in the mirror once more and examine the way the dress fits around my curves. Could be better, could be worse. At least the fabric is far more forgiving than the one that I chose before this.
I’m determined to make the second day at the school even better than the first. Powering through is going to be the only way to prove to myself that my anxiety and fear are unfounded. I promise myself on the way out of the house that I willnotbe asking Henry about his father.
No matter how badly I want to.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Helena
I’m getting the hang of living on a schedule, and as a result, my morning classes pass by in a blur. I’m starting to feel like it’s a privilege to be handling an elective class because I don’t have to worry about the homeroom duties that so many of my coworkers have to deal with. I would imagine that having a whole classroom full of overly hyper, chatty pre-teens first thing in the morning, while I’m waiting for my coffee to kick in, wouldn’t be my favorite thing in the world either.
Most of the other adults that I’m meeting have been teaching at this very school since they graduated college.
I think most of them attended this very school as kids themselves. They’ve probably lived their entire lives in this small town and don’t have any plans to leave it. At least there’s stability in that.
The teachers' lounge isn’t a place of luxury either. There are a couple of tables in the center of the room, and plastic chairs with rusted metal legs sit around them. On the far side of the room is an out-of-order vending machine covered in tape and complete with a handwritten sign. Beside that are a Formica counter and a few cabinets. Sitting on top of it is a stained coffee pot, as well as a dirty-looking microwave next to a basket of slightly overripened fruit. The gym teacher, whose name I cannot remember, is picking at a small side salad while reading the newspaper, and he doesn’t so much as look up at me when I enter the room.
As a woman who was so used to being the center of attention everywhere she went, it’s a hard pill to swallow.
It’s for the best. This is what you wanted. Anonymity.
If I had brought my lunch, I would have fit in better. It didn't even occur to me because I'm so unaccustomed to cooking for myself. In retrospect, it appears to be a really stupid detail to overlook. I can’t even lie to myself and say it was because of how distracted I was this morning.
I walk over to the only appliance in the room that seems fully functional—and with good reason. The coffee pot seems well-stocked and cleaner than anything else in the lounge. I hesitate when I see the cups. It’s a far stretch from brewed espresso and pour-overs, but beggars can't be choosers. With a deep breath to steady myself, I pour some into a Styrofoam cup to which I add a hefty helping of sugar. I can already smell how burnt the coffee is, but I’m determined to drink the whole thing anyway. I select a table at random and smooth the skirt of my dress down the back of my thighs as I sit awkwardly in the orange, plastic chair.
It’s so strange to be forced to realize just how extensively you’ve been spoiled when you aren’t anymore. I used to have somebody attending to my every want and need. I never would have had to sit like this because somebody has always pulled my chair out for me or made food for me to eat ontheirschedule. I got used to following orders while I was with Nikolai. I liked it even. It seems my habits will be harder to break than I originally thought.
Amy, the English teacher, bursts into the break room suddenly.
“Whoops! Sorry all, don’t mind me now.” Her grin fills her whole face as she juggles the many items in her hands. By the time it occurs to me to offer to help her, she’s already deposited her load onto the table I’m sitting at. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do ya?”
