The Teacher

CH 27: SKYLAR

The morning sun glares off the windshield as I pull up to the drop-off lane, a line of luxury sedans and SUVs snaking around the corner. I kill the engine and turn to my daughters, their identical blue eyes—my eyes—glued to their tablets.

"Girls, we're here," I say before exiting the vehicle and walking to the back to open their doors. They reluctantly put down their tablets. And I help them out of the car, handing them their backpacks.

We make our way to the school entrance. My daughters stick close to me as we navigate through the crowd. As we enter the school, my stomach ties in knots. The last person I want to see this morning is their teacher. After watching Wren get fucked by another guy and then leaving with him, I don't know how to feel anymore.

I know we aren't together, but seeing that fucked me up.

We reach the classroom, and there she is, looking radiant and composed as she greets her students with her warm smile. Her eyes catch mine, and for a moment, the world seems to stop.

"Good morning," Wren says as she approaches us. I struggle to find my words, the images of her fucking and leaving with that stranger looping in my head.

"Morning, Ms. Dunningham," I manage, watching as she bends down to speak to my daughters.

"Are you excited for today? We have a new art project," she tells them with genuine enthusiasm.

The girls nod before scampering off to join their classmates, leaving me alone with Wren. She straightens up, her gaze lingering on me for a second longer than necessary. I pivot on my heels, heading out of the classroom.

I barely make it a few steps before hearing her soft yet assertive voice calling me back. "Wait," Wren says. I stop but don't turn around. She catches up to me, her hand lightly touching my arm. "Is everything alright?" she asks, concern knitting her brows together.

Of course, everything is not fucking alright.

"Have you forgotten about that night? You said you don't exist to me, remember?" I remind her.

Wren's hand falls from my arm, and I can feel her eyes boring into my back as I make my way down the hallway. I know she won't follow, not with her students waiting for her in the classroom.

As I exit the building, the guy who fucked Wren walks through the doors with a little girl. My disbelief turns into a bitter chuckle. Of course, he's a father, too. I take a deep breath as I reach my SUV, trying to calm the storm inside me. I can't believe it. Seems like Wren has a type. Fathers. She likes fucking her students' fathers. I don't know why I thought I was special.

I check my Rolex and curse under my breath. I know there's no way I can make it to the morning meeting on time. But right now, that seems like the least of my problems. I lean back in the seat, rubbing my temples as the throbbing in my head intensifies. A tap on the passenger window jolts me. It's Wren. She waves, then motions for me to unlock the door. And the fool I am complies.

"Mr. Styrke," she says. "Skylar."

"Wren," I acknowledge, trying to keep my tone neutral. "Shouldn't you be in a classroom? A classroom where my daughters are?"

"My teacher's aide is there. I need to talk to you," she says, undeterred by my snappy tone. "It's about Bella and Gabby."

I sigh inwardly. I can't refuse to listen when it's about my daughters' well-being. "Sure," I say. "What's going on?" She leans in, and I catch a whiff of her perfume. I roll down the windows, not wanting to get too wrapped up in her scent. It will only cloud my judgment, and I don't need that shit right now.