Teacher (Voyeur #6) - Fiona Cole Page 0,77

to shove so much into that box. I’d gone to therapy. I’d accepted what had happened. I’d done my best to move on, but Daniel was right. I had so much anger, and he’d been the only one to see it. The only one to let it free.

Clinging to him, I took deep breath after deep breath, calming down a little more each time. He gently pulled my head up off his shoulder and cradled my face in his palms, brushing my hair back that clung to my damp cheeks. I could only imagine what kind of mess I looked like. But it didn’t matter because Daniel looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.

“You’re wrong, Hanna. You are strong. The strongest woman I know. You may not have wanted to survive, but you did. Not only are you surviving, you’re thriving. You are so beautiful and strong, taking what life gave you and working with it. I’m so proud of you.” His thumb brushed away the stray tears still slipping free. “Sofia would be proud of you.”

In that moment, in his arms, in the safety only he could give me, nothing would stop the words from tumbling out.

“I love you.”

It was as if my words froze him. Nothing moved. Nothing changed. He stiffened, and after a moment, slowly lifted wary eyes to mine. No, not wary. Scared. Daniel looked more scared than I’d ever seen him, and it was so far from the look I’d ever imagined seeing. Dread sank like the Titanic to the pit of my stomach.

Hesitance, confusion, regret, a way out. Those were all things I’d imagined. On the best of times, I imagined my love returned. But never had I imagined he’d be scared.

Each muscle I’d just relaxed, tightened back up again, and I looked away, unable to take it anymore. “I’m sorry. Shit. I shouldn’t have—”

“No. It’s okay,” he rushed to reassure. My heart buoyed just to sink back down when I managed to look up. Terror still marred his features, only now his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I, uh…”

The silence stretched until I couldn’t take it, on the verge of screaming for him to say anything just to end it.

Voices interrupted us, drawing his eyes to the open door. People were arriving for class. The gym was opening, and we were no longer alone.

Giving us both the escape we needed, I climbed off his lap, sad that he let me go. “We should get going,” I muttered, unable to look anywhere but the ground.

“Yeah,” he breathed, standing to collect everything.

The room weighed heavy with everything set free inside of it. Unfortunately, with everything I let go here, I’d be carrying another weight home with me. One I didn’t know what to do with.

While he packed, I ordered an Uber. The thought of sitting beside him in a small car was more than I could bear. It would be hell on both of us.

“You want to do breakfast?” he asked once we stood on the sidewalk in front of the building.

I wanted to scream, yes. I wanted so much, but while he offered breakfast, his stiff posture let me know the offer was more out of kindness than actual desire.

“It’s okay. I have to get to work.”

His shoulders dropped in relief, and I hated that I’d read him so accurately. “Okay. I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s okay,” I said again like a broken record. “I ordered an Uber. Our apartments are in opposite directions.

“Hanna.” He said my name like a plea. For what, I didn’t know. To not do this? To forgive him? To take it all back?

“It’s already done,” I said with a forced smile nowhere near reaching my eyes. The driver pulled up, and I opened the door.

“Hanna,” he said again.

I turned back before getting in, saying the furthest thing from the truth. “It’s okay, Daniel.”

We both knew it wasn’t, and as I drove away, I wasn’t sure it ever would be.

25

Daniel

“So, what do you think?”

I turned blinking eyes to Sabrina before looking back at the empty apartment around us. “Umm, it’s nice.”

“Right?” She practically vibrated with energy, but alarm bells were ringing.

“I was thinking we could put a down payment next month and move in by summer.”

“What?” I breathed.

“Yeah, I already talked to the office about it.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I think you forgot to talk to me about it.”

“What’s there to talk about? We’ve been together for years.