I want her.
And that might be the thing that destroys us both.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Bianca
I stay late at school on purpose.
Not because Alex needs help with his reading comprehension, though he does. Not because the supply closet needs organizing, though it definitely does.
Because I can't face going home.
Can't face Dante after last night. After everything Caterina revealed. After standing on that rooftop and hearing him say I might be worth everything while knowing I'm the thing that could destroy him.
God, I still can’t believe what happened yesterday. I don’t know how to handle everything.
So I stay. Grade papers I already graded. Rearrange books that don't need rearranging. Anything to avoid the moment I have to walk through his door and see the regret in his eyes.
"Miss Mancini?" Alex appears at my elbow, his backpack dragging on the floor. "Can you help me with this word?"
I allow myself a genuine smile, crouch down to his level and look at the page he's pointing to. "Sound it out for me."
"B... beau... tiful?"
"Beautiful. That's right." I ruffle his hair, my heart filling up with so much love. "You're getting so good at this, buddy."
"Thanks, Miss Mancini. You're the best teacher ever."
The simple praise shouldn't make my throat tight, but it does. Because after tomorrow—after Caterina releases whatever evidence she has—I won't be a teacher anymore.
I’ll never get to talk to Alex like this anymore.
I'll just be the whore who corrupted children through sheer proximity.
"Your mom's here," I tell him when I see her car pull up through the window. "Have a good night, Alex."
"You too!" He races off, leaving me alone in the classroom.
Alone with my thoughts. My shame. My?—
The door slams open.
Dante stands in the doorway, and he looks furious. His jaw is tight, his eyes dark, his entire body radiating barely controlled rage.
"The kids—" I start, jumping up from my chair in alarm.
"Are gone. I checked." He steps inside, closes the door. Locks it. "You've been avoiding me."
I look down. "I've been working."
"Bullshit." He crosses the room in long strides. "You stayed late because you didn't want to face me. Because you're ashamed."
"I—"
"Don't lie to me, Bianca." He stops inches away, towering over me. "Not after last night. Not after everything."
I can't look at him. Can't stand the thought of seeing disappointment or disgust or pity in his eyes.
