THE TEACHER

Chapter four

Just like a cold shower in the middle of a wintery day, Dale woke up to the worst news he could receive at the moment: because of her jealousy and paranoia towards Ms. Bennett, the last thing he would have liked was to leave his fiancée alone with her to go to Miami.

"Hey Bert, I've just seen your email," he said, rubbing his eyes with his hand to wake himself up.

As soon as he had read the email, he had rushed to call his boss, to see if perhaps he could lure him into letting him stay at home.

"Well?" asked the other man, on the other side of the phone. "Is something wrong with it?"

"No, but I was wondering if I could stay here in New Jersey."

"Dale, you know that I can't do this. You have a representative job in your father's company, and you know about his wish to show you off to the clients."

"I know, but can't he show off my brother?"

"Dale, he chose you to be the banner to represent him. Why would you even wanna stay there?"

"To be with my fiancée."

"Isn't she working full time anyway?" sighed Bert. "You will come to Miami, and I'll see you at the airport next week. No discussion."

Unable to fight back, Dale promised he would show up as agreed, despite his reluctancy to have Abigail and Melissa alone together.

"Hey babe!" he shouted from the living room. "Next Monday I've got a business thing in Miami, and I'll be staying there until Thursday night. Is that okay?"

Abigail appeared in the hallway, with a towel covering her head, and nodded.

"Of course it is, it's work. When I got engaged to you, I got engaged to the whole deal," she smiled, rubbing herself with another white towel. "Just don't run off with a stripper and we'll be fine."

"I promise I won't," he replied, leaning in to give his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. "Do you need me to drive you to work?"

"No, thanks, I've got it covered."

Thinking that the woman was gonna drive herself to school, Dale started having his usual breakfast without giving it much thought: some porridge with chopped bananas, a coffee, and a glass of orange juice. He was still sitting at the kitchen counter when Abigail rushed through the living room grabbing the last things she needed before leaving the house.

"Honey, your keys," he exclaimed, juggling them in his hand.

"I don't need them, Melissa is giving me a lift in her car," she replied.

"Oh, okay," he muttered. "Have a nice day."

"You as well," she smiled, kissing him one last time.

She left the house in a rush, leaving behind a very heavy silence and a very pissed fiancée.

It was another Monday night, and everything was settled perfectly: the dinner, the wine, the chitchat they were gonna have during the meal. Abigail had carefully picked every single detail, desperate for the night to go well, and incredibly nervous about its outcome.

She had chosen to wear a pair of jeans and a hoodie to stay comfortable, but already knew that the awaited guest was gonna wear some very nice clothes that would have made her the most beautiful person in the room; title that Abigail was glad to leave her.

She knocked on her door exactly at seven, and exactly like predicted she was wearing very classy and elegant clothes: some black pants that perfectly highlighted her body, a t-shirt of the same color and a bright blue blazer.