My students immediately notice it, one in particular: Nicholas. “Good morning, Ms. Abra—OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT ON YOUR HAND?!” “Nicholas, deep breaths.” He fans his face like he’s going to pass out. “It’s a wedding ring,” I admit calmly. “Go Ms. Abrams!” another student hoots from the back of the class. Nicholas sends them a death stare then flings his glare back to me. “How could you do this to me? I was going to wait for you!” I ease him down to his seat, just in case he’s about to lose consciousness on me. “Well, Nicholas, Mr. Fletcher and I—” “Mr. Fletcher?! So he’s the homewrecker!”
