Falling For Him Page 4

  “You can’t think like that, baby.” I shook my head. “You mustn’t. You’re the victim here. I’m sorry this happened but you love teaching, and you love working at that school. Fuck the whispers and the stares—you worked damn hard to get through that first round of applications and you can’t allow Brian and his shit to stop you from what you want to achieve.”

  “It’s hard, Tristan. I’m not like you. I try not to care what people think, but it’s hard.”

  “It is, but you can do it. People love gossip, it’s just what they feed on, but it will die down. You just have to ride it out until it does.” I’d seen it happen here at the office with the team and the staff. There was always some sort of gossip going on. A lot about me, but like she said I didn’t care.

  She held my gaze and pressed her lips together. “I wish I could have had some way of knowing Brian was married.”

  “I know, babe.” I wished that too. I may have been the man-whore she’d accused me of being, but I wasn’t a cheater. And I loathed those who do it. Particularly the married ones. They are the worst to me, and worse than me, because hell, what was the point of getting married if you weren’t going to be loyal? My parents were the best examples I had in life of relationships. My father treated my mother like a queen, so when I saw a man disrespecting his wife by cheating on her, it made my blood boil. And the fact that Brian cheated on his wife with Zoe enraged me to the point of madness. It was like he’d tainted a perfect being, and nothing could be done to fix the damage done.

  No matter how much I beat him up, or even if I killed him for doing that to her it wouldn’t change anything. All I could help her do now is forget.

  She drew in a long breath then shook her head. “I should go. I didn’t mean to stay long. Are you back tonight?” she stood up to go.

  I had to think for a moment to remember what plans I had. “I’ll be back.” Whatever it was I’d cancel, she needed me.

  “What about Beth?” she offered. “You spent the last two nights in with me.” She gave me a sweet smile that danced on her glossy lips.

  “And I’ll be there tonight,” I say sitting forward and resting my hands on my knees. “I’ll finish up as soon as I can here and come home.”

  Beth could wait. The same saying of bro’s before ho’s rang true with us, although Zoe wasn’t a bro. I just knew that leaving her in that house by herself would make her get more depressed.

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “It’s friendship day next Saturday.” I smiled up at her. “It’ll be nineteen years baby. You and me.”

  She brought her hands up to her cheeks and gasped. “Oh my goodness I had it in my mind and then I forgot with everything that’s going on. We only have a few envelopes left to open.”

  There was about ten, ten more years worth, this year included. We could make more in the next ten years. “We have time, I was thinking we do dinner, then open the box. I may also have a little extra.”

  “Tristan you spoil me enough.”

  “It keeps me in your good books baby.” I laughed when I saw her shake her head at me. “For the Denise incidents.”

  “That was plural Tristan, am I to expect more angry women on the way?” she folded her arms and huffed at me.

  “No baby, not that I know of anyway.”

  When I stood she smacked me playfully in my chest. “Man-whore.” She scuffed and walked away.

  “I’m your man-whore though right?” I called out to her laughing.

  “I’m walking away Tristan. You are so annoying.”

  “Baby, tell me I’m yours.” She couldn’t stand it when I teased her like that, and I’d continue until she gave in. “Babbbbeeeee.” I put on the most annoying voice I could muster, which happened to sound like a cow giving birth.

  She stops and whirls around glowering at me but her mouth’s curved into a smile. “Yes, Tristan. You are mine.”

  She shook her head and continues down the path.

  I watched her go and decide that whatever we do this year for our anniversary, I’d make sure she had fun.

  Chapter 3

  Zoe

  I rode out the next few days, just like Tristan advised. It was really hard to be in the presence of people whispering about me but what made me go to work, and push aside all the shit was remembering how much I actually loved my job. But more so by reminding myself of how close I was to getting the new job.

  When I went back to work I held my head high and did what I did best. I just did my job and taught my students. I turned a blind eye to the curious stares, and closed my ears to the whispers of Miss Carter being a homewrecker.

  By Friday, my resilience strengthened me and a majority of people could see that I didn’t care.

  The gossip amongst the students faded. Unfortunately though I still had the teachers to deal with. Well the minority. A.K.A Gertrude.

  That evil bitch had insisted on continuing my discomfort as did her group of minions that gathered around her at lunch time.

  Cora, who taught general studies was the one real friend I had at work. However, she’d been on leave that week so hadn’t been there to witness the full run of my distress. Usually we’d be able to stick together and resist the tension Gertrude created but I was on my own this week. I had other friends who worked here. There was Shyanne and Robin who both taught math but I noticed that they went all weird on me. Gertrude used that to her advantage, and I could only guess what she might have been saying about me.

  The only people who knew the full Brian story was Tristan and Rachel, my actual friends.

  This was work. I didn’t think it was necessary or appropriate to explain myself to anyone else. It was none of their business, and personal to me. Although I suppose by Brian’s wife coming here my personal life had spilled over into my work life.

  I did however feel like I needed to say something to Priscilla, the principal of the school. And, I was only going to speak to her because the decision of my job was in her hands.

  I made an appointment to see her first thing on Monday morning.

  She raised her blonde head as I walked into her office. A soft smile lifted the corners of her red lips.

  Priscilla was the sort of woman who could look businesslike and fashionable both at the same time. She wore tailored pants suits and had her hair kept in a pristine shoulder length style that allowed her to either have the ends flicked in a sort of Charlie’s Angels style, or up in a ponytail.

  Today it was flicked.

  “Zoe, lovely to see you.” She greeted me.

  “Thank you for fitting me in.” I thought I should say that because I knew how busy she was.

  “That’s okay. Sit.” She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. “You wanted to talk.” She raised her brows slightly, eyes holding a spark of curiosity.

  I felt that she knew why I wanted to talk. It was kind of obvious with what’s been happening recently, but it was good of her to act nonchalant, as if I’d just came by for a catch up.

  “Yes.” I took a short breath, just to clear my mind. “There is a lot of rumors going around about me, and I wanted to assure you that they’re not true.”

  It wasn’t true. I may have been with Brian. But I wasn’t the homewrecker. He was. Not me.

  It had taken me all of last week to accept that. Rachel came to see me nearly everyday and between her and Tristan they helped me to make the distinction, and see the truth. They both took care of me, taking turns to do things for me, and nurse me back to a level where I felt I could face the world again.

  I still felt hurt. God knew how badly I felt but I had to accept the reality of the situation, and move on.

  In my efforts to move on I also accepted something else. I took a real deep search of my feelings and came to the conclusion that I didn’t love Brian. I may have had feelings for him, that had every chance of turning into love but I had never reached that point.

  It was sad, but actually a small feat to claim in this disaster.
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br />   “I haven’t heard any rumors.” Priscilla gave me a brighter smile and a pointed look which suggested she’d heard all that was going on and turned a blind eye to it.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I haven’t heard anything, but would suggest that if there were something you ignore it, especially if it’s not true.” She nodded and I felt grateful.

  “Thank you.” Relief washed over me. She was the only person here whose opinion mattered to me.

  “No thanks needed. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

  “Nope. I’m good. That was all.” I rose from the chair slowly and stood before her.

  “Well, if you need any assistance or have any questions about the next stage of the application let me know, okay.”

  “I definitely will.” I assured her. Hearing that was gold to me because there was no better resource than her.

  She gave me a reassuring nod before I left.

  Walking out of the office I felt my legs again and I make my way into the staff room to grab some much needed coffee. Although I had more than eight hours sleep last night I felt drained out. I need a pick me up before I get to class.

  I was glad the room was empty so I thought I’d take advantage and sit for a moment to prepare my mind for the day.

  I went to the coffee machine and chose a cappuccino. I was watching the thick black liquid pour down into the cup when Gertrude came in. I made the mistake of looking over at her when I heard the door open.

  Mentally I sighed and groaned inwardly, then I really did groan when I saw the scowl on her face. I also rolled my eyes.

  “If you were a student I’d tell you not to eyeball me.” She hissed pushing out her full lips.

  From the first day that I met her I’d always thought she looked exactly like Cruella Deville. Her hair wasn’t completely like the villain but it was pretty darn close with the entire front being white and the back jet black. Both colors looked stark against each other. It would have worked on someone more fashionable, like Priscilla. Gertrude’s whole persona however, was distasteful and screamed hell beast more than anything.

  The first thing she hated me for was simply because I was the youngest teacher here, that went hand in hand with the fact that I was doing well. I would understand if I was maybe in my twenties, like fresh out of college and doing well, but seriously. I was in my early thirties, going on to mid in the next seven months. By most people’s careers standards I was actually behind. A lot of my friends I’d graduated with were making serious money, had their own businesses, like Rachel, and they were established in life with their own families.

  I’d gotten sort of stuck because I enjoyed my job, and I suppose the life I lived with Tristan encouraged me to get used to being taken care of. Gertrude hated me for that too.

  I kept him separate from my life here, as with most things but most of the teaching staff knew I lived with the former star quarterback of the LA Rams, now turned personal director and talent scout for the Centaurs.

  Put simply, they thought I was rich and didn’t need to be here. Gertrude, however, was the only one who voiced the opinion.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not then right?” I smiled and picked up the little cappuccino cup from the base of the machine.

  Out of the corner of my eyes I could see she was looking at me with daggers but I decided I wouldn’t give her the time of day.

  Until she said, “good thing? People like you shouldn’t be teachers. I don’t know how you can act so casual when all your dirt is being talked about by teachers and students.”

  I zoned in on her and simply stared wondering what I really did to this woman for her to hate me so much. Bullying is common when you’re at school, as in a student, but as an adult I never expected I would have to put up with it. Years too, because this woman took a dig at me every chance she got.

  I wanted to tell her to fuck off, but that wasn’t my style. It was just the thing Tristan would tell me to say to her but I didn’t talk like that at work, or really at all. It didn’t stop me from thinking it though.

  “Gertrude, get a life. Get a life and stop dwelling on mine,” I balked straightening up so that my shoulders were pushed back and my head lifted to exude my I don’t care attitude.

  Her face when I said that was classic. The scowl deepened and her wrinkles became even more pronounced. She actually looked mad that I spoke back to her.

  “How dare you?” she demanded in a shrill voice, bitter with cynicism.

  “How dare I what?” I challenged, really trying hard to keep my cool. “If I were you I’d worry about myself.”

  “Are you threatening me?” her voice actually raised an octave and she rushed in trying to stand in front of me, but I side stepped her to give myself room for movement or escape. Fight or flight.

  The coffee machine was behind me and I wouldn’t put it past her to hit me, or shove me into it. She looked like the type, but I wouldn’t give her the chance to. If I as much as see her hand raise towards me that would be it for me. I would give as much as I got.

  Tristan taught me how to defend myself in times when he wasn’t around to protect me, and I wouldn’t hesitate to defend myself if Gertrude asked for it.

  “Take it however you want. I don’t care.” I told her and roll my eyes again.

  I’ve heard enough. If I stayed I knew I’d argue and it will become so much worse because she looked like she was ready for a fist fight. So I walked away as she continues to throw insult, after insult at me. She was saying something about the length of my skirt as I go through the door and slam it shut.

  What a fucking bitch. I wish I could let loose and have cursed her back.

  It wasn’t worth it though. It would add salt to my open wounds and I doubt that Priscilla would turn another blind eye if she heard that I was arguing, or fighting with Gertrude in the staff room that was right next to one of the classrooms, and the walls were thin.

  As I walked past the classroom I can see there were students inside who would have, and could have, already heard the argument.

  I swallowed hard and proceeded to my class, trying to forget the incident.

  I’m really sick of these women attacking me. Each week there was one. Last week Brian’s wife, this week Gertrude.

  People said things happened in three’s but I was determined to evade a third encounter, and be someone else’s punching bag.

  Tristan got home just after me. It was just after seven. I stayed behind at work to do some research on the school’s past reports. It was my way of getting my mind back into the work and application mode. It took me hours to trawl through what I needed, and I still didn’t finish but I had a plan.

  When I got in I also had another plan too, to rid myself of Brian completely. As soon as I got inside the house I went to my room and started going through all my Brian stuff. Pictures, gifts, jewelry, everything. The jewelry and things like stupid teddy bears I bagged up to go to charity. The pictures and other paper based things I’d saved from events we’d been to, I placed in a bag and took out to the terrace to burn in the fire pit we used for bonfires.

  I did this whole ritual once before. With Joey. I never imagined doing it again, but hey I suppose it’s best that the truth came out now than when things got even more serious between us, or for me. Like it did with Joey. I’d never felt the connection I had with Joey for anyone else, but I’d always put that down to him being my first in a lot of things.

  Brian was my first real adult relationship, and I’d stupidly put my brain in that mode where I was looking to the future and all that I wanted.

  I couldn’t help but be the typical romantic kind of girl who wanted the guy that sweeps her off her feet, the guy who she falls in love with and has her happily ever after. Even after everything that had happened to me that was what I still wanted. Maybe it was all those books I loved reading, and the beauty that came from the classic pieces of art I got fascinated with.

  Maybe it was all a stupi
d fantasy that I needed to let go of. I was thirty three years old and I couldn’t think of one of those guys who made me feel the true love or happiness I dreamt of having.

  There is so much at work here, and there’s one thing that I really don’t want to think about because it makes me feel like shit when I do.

  It’s my father.

  Shit, just thinking of him now makes me feel like vomiting. No one had seen or heard from him since he left. There was nothing. As much as I hated him for leaving us I would at least like to know whether he was alive or dead.

  Him leaving really did a number on me. I didn’t want to admit it but it was true. I thought of him when I meet a man I might like. I didn’t do it on a very conscious level, but the image of my father lurked in the corner of my mind and I remembered how he never cared for my mother, but that she loved him no matter what.

  She did her best to keep our family together. He did his best to keep us apart, and was more interested in getting the next piece of ass who would have him. We never mattered to him. It didn’t matter how much we loved him, we just never mattered and he left. Crushing us. Breaking my mother’s heart.

  I didn’t want that for myself.

  This damn fiasco with Brian had opened my eyes in a way that I never imagined, and never wanted. I didn’t want to ever think of my father but it was obvious that what he did affected me.

  With the care I’ve taken in my relationships, at least one should’ve worked out. Or, not end so badly. But they were all bad. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that they were all bad, and simply because they shouldn’t have been.

  I never took the risk of being with anyone I immediately had a strong attraction for, and worse if I had any sort of feelings for. That was my defense mechanism to prevent from opening myself up to heartbreak. It took me awhile to do something as simple as accept an invite for a date with my previous boyfriends, and that came after I felt certain, comfortable and confident enough to put myself in that situation.