Thief of Hearts Page 68

Just because he’d lied to me didn’t mean I didn’t still care about him. I wasn’t the sort of person who could just turn off their feelings like that. I wanted him to go to university, to fulfil his potential. I wanted him to get a degree and change his life, not be just another statistic of an ex-con returning to crime after serving time.

I wanted him to find his Christminster.

The thought was sobering. How could I hate him for lying yet still want him to find happiness?

Kian was the first to arrive to class. I plastered on a smile I wasn’t really feeling and told him good morning. Next was Mary and Susan, and before long all of my students were there, all except one. Stu’s seat remained empty until only a minute before the bell rang. The door opened and he strode inside, his shoulders knit with tension and his hair still wet from a shower. I stared at him and his eyes came to mine—so handsome, so golden . . . so sorry.

Now he was here I knew I had to steel myself, especially considering how there were a thousand apologies in his gaze that my heart wanted to give in to. I reminded myself of how Alfie had been last night, of how he’d been this morning. I knew he was going to be like that for weeks, if not months. He’d retreated inside his mind and it was going to be a challenge to get him back on track.

I cleared my throat to make an announcement. “This morning we’re going to watch the film adaptation of Jude.”

“Score!” Susan drove her fist into the air. “I love movie days.”

“It’s not in black and white, is it, Miss Anderson?” asked Jake, another of my younger students. “I hate black and white films.”

“It starts out that way but then turns to colour, sort of like The Wizard of Oz,” I answered, aware of Stu watching me as I spoke. “It’s from the nineties and stars Kate Winslet as Sue.”

“Love her,” said Mary.

“Ugh, I hated The Wizard of Oz,” Jake complained.

“Who’s Kate Winslet?” Larry asked.

“OMG, I can’t believe you don’t know who Kate Winslet is.” Susan gaped at Larry.

“That’s enough,” I said firmly. I had to put my foot down before they got rowdy. “I want you to take notes while you’re watching and jot down any differences you see between the book and the film,” I went on. “Then tomorrow we’re going to have a debate on whether or not you think books should be made into films. When you’re finished watching it you’ll decide whether you’re for or against and we’ll divide you into two teams.”

“I hate debates,” said Larry.

“Oh, I love them,” said Susan. “I always win.”

“There’s a difference between winning a debate and being louder than anyone else in the room,” Mary teased and Susan stuck out her tongue.

I busied myself setting up the film and then went to dim the lights before hitting play. Unable to handle the idea of Stu watching me in the darkened room, I went to stand by the door as the class focused their attention on the screen. Once I saw they’d all settled down and had fallen into the story I quietly slipped out the door and went to use the bathroom.

Well, I didn’t actually need to go. I just needed some air and the staff bathroom was my sanctuary right then. I splashed water over my hands and wrists in an effort to cool myself down, then stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long few moments.

I looked tired, and my eyes were puffy from hours of crying. Just thinking about why I was sad meant they started to water again.

I sniffled and went to grab some tissues from one of the stalls when I heard the door swing open. I didn’t want to be caught crying by one of my co-workers, so I quickly dabbed away the wetness. I waited for whoever it was to shut themselves inside a stall, but I didn’t hear any locks click. A second later a warm hand came to rest on my shoulder and I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“You can’t be in here,” I said, still not looking at him.

“The Duke is selling the painting to his buyer this morning. The money will be transferred to Alfie’s account by lunch time,” he said and I let out a watery laugh. For a second there I thought he’d come to discuss something other than business. I wanted him to be upset about me. About how his lies destroyed us.

But maybe he didn’t feel that at all.

“That money is no concern of mine. It’s Alfie’s. He’s the one who earned it.”

Stu frowned. “You earned it, too. And you need it more than any of us.”

“Get back to class. You’re supposed to be watching the film.”

“I’ll watch it later.”

“Stu, get out of the staff bathroom now before I report you for disobedient behaviour.” I stood straighter, stepping out of the stall and away from his soothing touch.

His gaze narrowed. “How long are you gonna keep this up?”

“Until you accept that aside from being your teacher, I don’t want anything else to do with you.”

When he winced slightly, I knew my words had affected him. My throat quivered but I didn’t let it show. Wouldn’t.

“That’s a lie,” said Stu, his voice low as he advanced on me. I backed up against the sink but he kept on coming forward until our bodies were almost touching. Stu gently took my arms and unfolded them. “Stop trying to push me away. It won’t work,” he whispered, his voice soft.

I firmed my jaw. “Get your hands off me.”

“Never.” He took each of my hands in his and laced our fingers together. I was too caught up in his tender gaze to fight it. Stu leaned in, his chest brushing mine, and his scent overpowered me. I’d come to love that scent. Love.

I’d come to love everything about him, but in an instant all of that had changed.

“This is the last time I’m going to say it. Go back to class, Stu.”

“This isn’t the last time I’m going to say it, Andrea, in fact, I’ll keep telling you until you finally forgive me. I’m sorry. I’ve never been sorrier in my entire life.”

My eyes moved back and forth between his and in spite of the fact that he’d lied to me before, I knew in this moment he was telling the truth.

“I forgive you,” I said quietly.

As soon as the words left my mouth his body sagged and he inched his lips towards mine.

Prev Next
Romance | Vampires | Fantasy | Billionaire | Werewolves | Zombies