It becomes almost part of my routine, running into her classroom. We get up, I make breakfast, we drive over to the school, she gets out and forgets her coffee, I have to run in after her.
But this is the first time I haven't caught up outside of her classroom. When I stop at the door, I make sure she's not already doing something before bumping the door open with my hip. A couple of the early students are here, but it's mostly empty. I walk over to her desk, where she's looking up at me from her papers, and plant the coffee in her hand.
"Left it in the car again," I say, faking disappointment and shaking my head. She pouts and I laugh, leaning forward to kiss her hair.
"Thanks, Haze," she calls as I take my leave.
"Who do you think that was?" It comes from one of the students.
"Maybe one of her friends?"
"A really close one, apparently."
I smile to myself on the drive home.
YOU ARE READING
No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar.
RomansaAnnabelle Lee-Davis. Hazel's never met her, or even seen her, but she's in love. Annabelle runs a blog called No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar. It's all black and white - photos...