We slowly made our way to the restaurant in silence. Jack stared at the cracks in the sidewalk, lost in thought.
"Whatchya thinkin about baby?" I asked, nudging him lightly with my shoulder.
"Nuttin much." He mumbled, his accent becoming thicker.
"C'mon. Tell me." I smiled.
"It's stupid."
"No its not I promise."
He ignored me.
"Sean?"
Nothing.
I waved a hand in front of his face. As I bent down to look at him, I noticed the tears.
I sat him down on a bench and yanked off my jacket, laying it around his shoulders. "Baby what's wrong?"
"I just- I just-" He started to quietly sob. "I just love you so much and I was thinking about how you thought you failed me, and you could never fail me because you're perfect and I love you but then I was thinking about how differently that situation at the school could have gone then my mind went back to when you got shot and I-"
I pressed a finger to his lips. "Breathe. Breathe, Sean."
My inconsolable husband took a few deep gulps before continuing.
"I just couldn't stop thinking about how much I couldn't stand to lose you, and then I couldn't stop thinking about it, and scenarios started running through my mind about all the ways I COULD lose you and I can't stop..."
"Baby..." I pulled him close, not knowing what to say. "I'm right here. I'm okay. You're okay. Let's just go to dinner, and then we can go home and cuddle okay?"
Jack nodded into my chest, where he was nestled. I lifted his chin, and kissed him.
He sighed a happy, contented sigh, and I poked him in his ticklish spot, and he squeaked.
I grinned, and kept poking and teasing him, listening to him giggle.
"Okay stop! Stop!" Sean gasped.
"Nuh uh." I said tickling him more.
"Please I need to pee stop." He choked out between laughs.
I dropped my hands, wrapping my jacket around him tighter as the wind picked up. "Okay. Feeling better though?" I smirked.
He smacked me playfully. "Yes. But you'd better believe I'll get my payback."
I stood, putting on a horrible British accent. "It appears that I am quite famished." I bent an arm. "Shall we?"
He stood, grabbing it with a little refined curtsy/bow, and an equally bad British accent. "We shall, mo shíogra. We shall."
YOU ARE READING
Teacher's Secrets
Hayran KurguSean William McLoughlin is the band teacher at Los Angeles Highschool. He wears a ring on his left ring finger. But he was never seen as the marrying type. He's the kind of teacher the students fantasize over. Cute, young, smart, nerdy. But that rin...
