Samantha
I took a few days off from teaching because the morning after Wes had ended things, I got the flu. Not the stomach kind, but the fever, congestion, cough, the works. After day three, I finally got myself to the doctor and was given some antibiotics for a sinus infection that formed.
I hadn’t heard a word from Wes since that night, not that I expected to hear from him. Greta stopped by after school daily to check in on me and brought me some get well cards the students had made. Being sick, I had more than enough time to feel everything Wes said to me. I couldn’t even keep busy to stop thinking about him because I was so sick. So I just lay there, day in and day out, replaying our conversation in my head. He had hurt me more than any other man ever had. But this time, I was taking my life back. I needed to. Not only for myself, but for my daughter.
Walking back into my classroom after being gone for almost a week felt strange and overwhelming. Part of it wasthe exhaustion I still felt from the flu/sinus infection that had knocked me flat on my ass. But most of it was Weston.
I set my bag and coffee down just as the bell rang for first period. My students started to trickle in, and the moment they realized I was back, their voices erupted.
“Sam, I’m so happy you’re back.” Delilah threw her arms around me.
“Finally,” Devon said. “Thank God you’re back.” He fell into his chair.
“No offense. But the sub we had was awful,” Gina said.
“A total nightmare,” Asher blurted out.
“Yeah. The dufus sub kept calling Mr. Darcy, Mr. Dorsey,” Devon said. “At least that’s how it sounded. He had a bit of an accent. It was really annoying.”
It felt good to be back. And for the first time in days, my chest didn’t feel so heavy.
“It’s good to be back. I’ve missed all of you.” I managed a smile. “Okay, let me read the substitute’s notes and see where he left off.”
“Before we start, I have an important question,” Devon said, raising his hand.
“Should I be worried?” I smirked.
“Probably.” He grinned, and I couldn’t help but smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thank you for asking.”
“You still sound sick, though,” Devon said.
“It’s going to take a while to fully clear up.”
Emma tilted her head and raised her hand.
“Emma.” I pointed.
“Was it really just the flu?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
She exchanged a look with Gina, who was sitting next to her.
“You seem…sad,” she said. That was the problem with teenagers. They noticed every little thing.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Devon frowned.
“Did Mr. Castile take care of you when you were sick?” Logan asked. “My dad takes care of my mom when she’s sick.”
My throat tightened, and I looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. “Hey, look up there.” I pointed to the ceiling to distract them. “What pattern do you see?”
That was the moment they realized something more had happened in my life than just the flu. I thought I was in the clear. My eyes didn’t sting any longer, but I was sure wrong when I looked at the students, and a single tear escaped.
Lily’s hand flew to her chest. “Oh no, Sam.”
