Page 84 of One More Chapter

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Page 84 of One More Chapter

I’ve always craved stability. But suddenly, even a firm foundation isn’t bringing me the joy and securityit once did. Because the truth of the matter is, while most—if not all—of my colleagues are in this job for the kids, I went into teaching for the anchor of it. Routine, rhythm, a solid ground beneath my feet. Teaching offered stability, just like school was always my safe place. But when your foundation no longer brings you joy, do you stick with it for the anchor, or take a leap and let yourself face the possibility of drowning?

“Hey, Nathan gave us the okay to head out since the busses are gone. You coming?”

Aaron and Lucy poke their heads into my classroom. We’re doing Friendsgiving tonight, since everyone has travel plans for the upcoming week. I groan, lofting myself from my desk in my overdramatic mask of being. I make some trademarked Penelope remark about how there had better be wine, and my friends laugh it off, none the wiser.

When I show up at Sam and Juliet’s later, I don’t expect to see Ant’s truck out front. Except, here he is, in the middle of the little sanctuary I’ve made with people I can trust. The stability I built for myself. I wish I could say that he was here to ruin it, but my body betrays me by relaxing at the sight of him in the middle of my people.

The fact of the matter is, I don’t hate it. I don’t hate that he’s standing in Sam’s kitchen, pouring Lucy a glass of wine. I don’t hate that Aaron and Lucy are captivated by whatever story he’s weaving with his signature animation of an Ant-look on his face.

I just hate that my heart pitter-patters at the sight of it. If quitting teaching would sacrifice some of my stability, letting Ant back in to play the what-if games that have been on anendless loop in my head for the past two years would take my foundation of stone and turn it to sand in the middle of a flood.

But then, he catches my eye through the cutout, and I swear I can see his body soften, his shoulders melting like warm butter, the swirl in his blue eyes calming in an instant. And the flood stops. The sand turns to clay. And I have towillmyself to remember how it felt when my heart had shattered in his fist.

“Let’s get this party started!” I yell, adding a bit of spice to mask the fact that my heart just ran through the wringer. I snag the bottle of wine from Ant, grab a glass, and give myself a healthy pour.

“You gonna need a ride home again, boss?” Ant asks, side-eyeing me with a tiny smirk.

“I might. Might just crash here, though.” I shrug and take a hearty gulp of my red.

“And pass up the opportunity to give Elvis Squirrel a second showing?” he says quietly as he waggles his eyebrows, turning his shoulder so that our little conversation is closed off from the rest.

Leave it to Ant to have me turned on by Elvis. I pinch my eyes closed, and level him with my gaze upon opening them. One that is mixed parts warning to tone it down, and a fire that I can barely contain. We really haven’t had much time together this past week, despite living and working together, to talk about what happened between us.

Which might be for the better.Istill haven’t decided what it means myself.

My body betrays me by reacting to his comment, but this is one decision I can’t make lightly, in the heat of the moment, in the middle of my friends’ kitchen.

Thankfully, Aaron and Sam announce that the take-out arrives before I have to—Friendsgiving is lazy this year, given all of the wedding and baby talk within this group. We all jump upto help, conveyor belting the Chinese and pizza boxes to the long tables they’ve set up in the kitchen. Once we all have our plates loaded, we crowd around the coffee table in the living room, sitting on the floor, our plates overlapping each other just like our conversation.

The guys are talking about hockeyandthe upcoming middle school baseball season somehow at the same time; Nathan and Lucy are debating some new behavior method she learned at an online conference; Juliet is trying to convince Claire to look at wedding dresses even though she and Nathan aren’t even engaged; and I am sitting back and taking it all in.

My people. Mystability. And the fact that Anthony Ellis has somehow found his way into the center of it all again.

“Hey, Pen, how’s the house coming?” Aaron asks me.

I exhale heavily. It’s a topic I’ve been avoiding for too many reasons.

“I was supposed to be able to move back in after Christmas, but ‘move in’ is a loose term. I’ll still have to paint, redo the flooring, get new furniture. It’s like a chore at this point.”

And one I’msonot looking forward to. I just moved into that place and settled a little over a year ago. Now, it’s like I’m starting right back at square one.

“You know,Antis kind of a handy man.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I roll my eyes.

“Oh, you meanAnthony Ellis, whose father owns a contracting company? The same Anthony Ellis who is currently building his own house? I hadnoidea.”

My gaze meets Ant’s and he’s smirking to hide his blush.

“What about you?” Juliet asks, shifting the conversation over to Ant. “How isyourhouse coming along?”

“About the same as hers. Although, mine might take a little longer. There have been some setbacks…”

He trails off, and I don’t miss the way he averts my gaze. What the hell is that all about?

“I’ve just been swamped with all of this new stuff going on at school.” He scratches beneath this chin, still avoiding eye contact with anyone in particular, like he has crimes he doesn’t want to answer for. “It’ll get done eventually. I’m in no rush.”

Thatpiques my interest. “In no rush” means he has no intentions to get out of the townhouse anytime soon. There’s a short list of reasons why, and I’m pretty confident that the Elvis Squirrel is not on it.

We fall into talk about everyone’s Thanksgiving plans: Lucy and Aaron are hosting his entire family and her parents; Juliet and Sam are taking the kids to visit Sam’s dad in the nursing home; Claire and Nathan are taking a big step and spending a holiday with her family while his brother is on call.




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