Chapter 2 Meet Again

Rue

Of course, that love never came as time passed, and when I graduated, I decided that I would do whatever I had to in order to try to win him over.

That's why I went to college to get my teaching degree and joined a gym where I worked my ass off to lose weight and tone my body.

I also watched many tutorials on how to do my hair and started wearing contacts.

I did everything I could to become someone who wasn't that miserable girl that Mr. Owens knew.

Instead, I would be this cool, confident, elegant new teacher at his school.

I planned to approach him thereafter, after getting a job, and make him fall for me; after all, we would no longer be teacher and student. We would be equals, which would make it possible for us to be together, but all of that was ruined when my mother announced that she met someone and that they were going to get married.

During the course of the planning, I wasn't able to go home and meet the man who would soon be my stepfather, but I didn't think that it would be a big deal.

I was in my last year of school, had an internship to complete, and had so many assignments I didn't even have time to do much but study and prep.

That's why, when I came home for the wedding, I was met with the biggest shock of my life, and now here I was watching my mother and the man that I loved for eight years kissing and smiling happily at one another while the crowd around me cheered.

While it was the happiest day of both of their lives, it was the single worst day of my own, and I couldn't even go home and lick my wounds because I was the daughter of the bride and had to be present.

Now, I tear my gaze away from the two and look down at the glass of champagne in front of me.

Deciding that maybe a little alcohol would make things less painful, I grab it and then swallow the liquid within in one gulp and motion for a waiter carrying a tray filled with cups to come to me.

As I do, my mother and Mr. Owens move toward the dance floor and wait until the string quartet that sits in the corner starts playing a slow number that they are meant to dance to.

"Oh, how lovely," a woman I barely recognize as my mother's colleague murmurs. "Aren't they just perfect together?"

"They really are." Another chirps.

"I'm so jealous of Annie for being able to bag such a man." A third joins.

Me too. I think, downing my next drink and then watching the happy couple as they move along the dance floor until the song ends and the DJ for the evening calls everyone to the floor.

Sighing, I remain in place while those around me rise and move, joining the happy couple as they dance to a pop tune, and when another waiter approaches me, I don't hesitate to take the alcohol he offers and down it in another gulp.

"Another," I announce, starting to feel my emotions numb from the alcohol.

"You should be careful, miss." The waiter tells me. "You don't..."

"Another," I counter.

Frowning, he hands me another, and as he moves away, I hold it up in front of my eyes, blocking the painful view.

I don't know how long I sit there, staring at the contents of my glass, until hands grab my shoulders and I feel a body press against me.

"Sweetie!" My mother coos as I lift my gaze to hers. "Why are you just sitting here?"

As she speaks, I shift my gaze just to the side of her, and I find Mr. Owens standing there too.

He's watching me with that unreadable look, and I can't help but wish that I could read his mind.

"I wanted to properly introduce you to Leo. Everything was so busy before the wedding, and you waited so long to come home that neither of you got to meet until now!" she says, and my bad mood only deepens.

Leo.

So, his first name was Leo, and she could know that because she wasn't his student but his wife.

"Leo, this is my daughter Rue."

"Rue," he repeats, eyeing me. "Ah, so that's where I know you from."

Frowning, I watch as recognition flashes in his eyes, and I find myself wishing that the floor would just open and swallow me.

"You were in my homeroom class eight years ago, right?"

"That's right," I confirm. "I looked a bit different back then, so it is understandable that you wouldn't recognize me."

Dammit.

I just wanted this exchange to end because each passing minute felt like torture. Not only because they were together, but also because my new stepfather was certainly remembering all my embarrassing moments.

"I wonder if you were the one." My mother murmurs, and my eyes widen. "You know, our Rue has been away at college studying to become a teacher! When I asked her what sparked that decision, she said that there was a teacher that she really looked up to and wanted to see again!"

"Mom," I hiss, realizing too late that she was a bit tipsy. "You don't have to talk about such things."

Please. I beg inwardly. Please take the hint and stop.

"She had a really hard time in school." My mother continues. "She always looked so miserable when it was time to get up and go in the mornings, but then one day it was like a weight had been lifted. I wonder if it was because of that teacher."

"Mom," I repeat, standing. "Today is your special day. You shouldn't waste it telling such stories. Come on, why don't you dance with me?"

Come on. I think to myself, grabbing my mother's hands while Mr. Owens stares at me with that unreadable expression.

"Isn't it proper that the bride and groom dance with their family?"

"You're right," my mother agrees, smiling. "But I didn't think that you would be up for it. You hate being the center of attention."

"Today is special!" I counter, starting to lead her toward the dance floor. "I'm sorry, Leo, I mean Mr. Owens, but you're fine with me borrowing her, right?"

"Of course," he smiles, and my heart comes to life just from the sight. "You go on; I'll go greet my parents."

"Great," I smile and then turn, dragging my mother behind me while hoping that the rest of the evening would go by quickly so I could escape and go back to the safety of my college and my dorm.

But luck wasn't because as I moved along the dance floor with my mother, she dropped a bomb that I was never expecting.