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Only the Perfect (Only You Book 2) by Elle Thorpe (7)

7

Elodie

Louise dropped a stack of contracts on my desk. The thunk as they filled my already full inbox tray wiped the smile right off my face. “Please tell me he doesn’t want those finished today?”

Louise patted me on the shoulder. The pitying look that accompanied the gesture left no reason for her to verbally answer me. I sighed as I took out my elastic and ran my fingers through my hair, enjoying the brief feeling of freedom the simple task provided. Then I raked it back into a ponytail before I pulled the pile of papers closer. I hated when John, our CEO, dumped stuff on me last minute. But I never said no. If I worked hard, I might just be able to get through this lot without having to put in too much overtime.

The email alert on my computer pinged and a little flutter of excitement skittered through me. I hesitated for half a second, knowing I needed to tackle the mountain of work. But who was I kidding? I wouldn’t be able to concentrate until I knew if that email was from Jamison.

I grabbed the mouse and clicked the alert. I wasn’t supposed to take personal calls at work, so I’d given Jamison my email address earlier in the week. We’d sent a few quick emails to each other during our breaks, and even though they were completely tame—because who knew if the IT department were reading them as well—they always brightened my day. The idea of him thinking about me when we weren’t together made my breath hitch. I couldn’t wait to see him again on the weekend.

The screen switched to my inbox and my shoulders drooped. The email wasn’t from Jamison. It was just an internal office memo from Louise, our office manager. I normally would have ignored it, with all the work I had piling up, but the subject line piqued my interest. All Staff Formal Charity Dinner. I skimmed the email. John had lost his wife to brain cancer a few months earlier and it seemed the company wanted to do something in a show of support. I nodded to myself, as I jotted the details down in my planner, and smiled when I noticed it was being held in the function room at Jamison’s work. John’s wife had been a lovely woman, and I’d heard she’d been very sick in the end. I wanted to do my part and show my support. He may have loved to dump work on me late in the day, but he’d always been a kind and fair employer, and nobody deserved to lose a loved one to such a cruel disease.

I picked up my bag to put my planner away only to find my bag vibrating. I fumbled through it until I found my phone, flashing with an incoming call. It diverted to voicemail before I could grab it, and that’s when I noticed I had five missed calls, all of them from Nathan’s school.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of shoving papers into my bag, calling apologies to my co-workers, and waiting for an impossibly slow lift, all with my heart in my mouth. Because something had to be wrong. Nathan’s school didn’t call for no reason. He was either sick or injured, and since he’d been completely healthy when I’d dropped him off this morning, I’d immediately begun picturing broken bones and cuts that needed stitches.

The receptionist finally picked up my call as the lift arrived with its artificial binging noise.

“Ms. Chalmers? Nathan is just fine.”

A breath of relief whooshed out of me and I leant heavily on the wall of elevator. Thank God he wasn’t hurt. Then why the five— “It was Principal Deans that called you. Are you able to come in for a meeting this afternoon? It’s quite urgent. We’d like Mr. Christoperson to come in as well.”

The lurch in my stomach didn’t have anything to do with the elevator rapidly dropping floors. “Yes, of course. I’m on my way. Don’t call my ex-husband though. He’s on his honeymoon.”

“As you wish. Just come to reception when you get here.”

I nodded, even though there was no one in the elevator to see it, thanked her, and ended the call.

Forty minutes later, I pulled up outside of the pale brick buildings that made up Nathan’s school. The gardens were neatly tended, and the school fields were thick with lush-looking grass. It had an air of class about it, which was exactly why Rick had been adamant that we enrol Nathan there. I’d agreed, impressed by the school’s academic results. But I didn’t much care for the fancy uniforms or the school fees that cost us a few thousand dollars each year. Gossip ran rife in the parent cliques, which I knew would eventually filter down to the kids. And I’d heard more than one whisper about Rick and me over the past few months. I felt out of place there, now that I wasn’t part of a perfect little nuclear family. More than once, I’d thought about switching him to the local public school, which also had a fantastic reputation. Public schooling hadn’t hurt either Rick or myself. But I knew Rick liked the prestige, and Nathan had made friends. Now wasn’t the time to rock the boat with Rick, and I just wanted Nathan to be happy and settled. I hurried into the front office, my low heels clicking on the polished cement floors.

The aboriginal woman on the other side of the door looked up and greeted me with a smile as I approached. “Ms. Chalmers? Mrs. Deans is waiting for you. Go right on through.”

I swallowed hard and pulled my shoulders back, straightening my posture. Why did I suddenly feel like I was the one that was in trouble?

I knocked on the door marked with the principal’s name and waited for her to call me in. The door swung open and the tall woman on the other side offered me her hand to shake. I took it, forcing a smile across my face so she wouldn’t notice how nervous I was. At twenty-five years old, this was the first time I’d ever been summoned to a principal’s office. Maybe Nathan was getting some sort of award? Something deep inside me told me that was somehow unlikely.

“Reception told me Mr. Christoperson couldn’t come. That’s a shame, because this is something I wished to discuss with the both of you. But it’s urgent, so I don’t think waiting for him to return is advisable.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. The two of us are divorced, but we’re on…good terms.” Good enough terms anyway. “I’ll fill him in on whatever the problem is.”

She nodded curtly, as we both took seats. She jotted something down in a file, and I had to force myself not to peer over the desk to see what she’d written. I crossed my legs and waited for her to begin.

“Nathan was in a fight on the playground today.”

“What?!” My stomach rolled. “The receptionist said he was fine. Where is he? Is he hurt?”

The woman shook her head. “No, he’s fine. He’s in class. The thing is, he’s the one that instigated the fight. He attacked another little boy.”

“I’m sorry. Excuse me?” I shook my head slowly, trying to make sense of her words. “He attacked someone? Are you sure? He’s not an aggressive kid. He’s never hurt anyone before.” My chest tightened. “Who was the other child? Are they okay?”

Nathan wasn’t perfect. I knew that, but he was a damn good kid. He was polite and caring and the school had regularly given him awards for outstanding behaviour. The words rolling out of the principal’s mouth didn’t compute with the little boy that had wrapped his skinny arms around my neck a few hours earlier and told me I was the most beautiful mum he’d ever had.

“We can’t discuss the other child with you unfortunately, but medical care was required. So we’re taking the matter very seriously.”

“Oh my God.” I scrubbed my hands over my face, wishing the ground would swallow me up. “Are you expelling him?”

I barely dared to look at the principal, but when I did, she was shaking her head.

“No, we aren’t. Nathan was one of our best students last year, and his teacher has expressed her shock over the events that took place today. But she did also say that he’s been quiet in class recently, and not participating in games or activities at lunchtime either. After his outburst today, we’re concerned. Have you noticed any of this sort of behaviour at home? Have there been any big changes in his life lately?”

I shook my head slowly. “His father and I divorced, and Rick remarried recently. So, there’s been some disruption to his regular routine, I suppose. He seemed okay with it all, though...” The principal folded her hands before launching into a speech about how divorce and family dynamics can adversely affect a child’s learning. My head bobbed up and down, agreeing with her, but my brain checked out.

Nathan had barely seen Rick since he’d left. Bree and Rick had picked him up a handful of times to take him out for the day, but we hadn’t sorted out a proper custody arrangement yet. He’d been so busy with Bree and the wedding that I hadn’t pushed him to see Nathan, preferring not to speak to Rick if I didn’t have to. I’d been content to keep Nathan all to myself.

I hadn’t made an effort either, and the only person that hurt was Nathan. And now, after the scene at dinner, who even knew where things stood between Rick and me. Bree’s hateful words replayed in my head. I’ve got her man. Her money. And it won’t be long before that little boy is calling me Mummy. This whole situation had gotten out of control.

When Rick had left I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t let it affect Nathan. I’d sworn to maintain a friendship with him, despite the way he’d hurt me, and that together we’d always put Nathan first. Did he sense the way I resented his father and his actions? I thought I’d hidden that from him, but maybe I wasn’t doing a good enough job. I knew he missed his dad. But I’d thought it wasn’t much different from the times Rick had missed dinners or his soccer games. A band tightened around my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The principal folded her hands on her desk and nodded. “When I questioned Nathan about the incident he said he threw the chair because the other child said he didn’t have a dad.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “He threw a chair? Oh my God.” Tears pricked at the back of my eyes. “I’m so incredibly sorry. I’ll… I’ll sort this out. It won’t happen again.” I just wanted to get out of there so I could let the tears spill over. The guilt swirling through me morphed into a chant that clouded out all other thought. This was all my fault. Mine and Rick’s. Nathan was six years old. His behaviour was a direct product of the decisions Rick and I made for him. And we’d both been thinking more about our love lives than what was going on with our son. We’d really dropped the ball.

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