Page 1 of Love Beyond Repair
Chapter one
Bex
“Miss Corrigan, would you say you have a problem with alcohol?”
That’s how my spiral starts. Not with a warning. Not with a chance to explain. Just a loaded question across an oak desk.
The evidence—one photo. A single grainy CCTV still. My ex. A man with a wedding ring.
And me, kissing him as if the past never happened. That was all it took, one match to light the fuse. And my life exploded. Again. If people knew the truth, the real timeline, maybe they’d see it differently. But no one ever wants the complicated version. They only want a villain.
Someone easy to blame.
Principal Fraser takes his seat opposite me, tenting his fingers. His eyes so dark, I’m sure he can see my soul. I want the ground to open up, swallow me whole. I want to be anywhere but here. Completing my tax return would be preferable to this.
I’m wearing my power suit today. The one that clings to my curves and makes me feel invincible. My platinum-blonde curls are piled high on my head, and my pale pink lips contrast with my dark eyes. Heels, high and classic. My armor. I need it.
My stomach feels all twisted up. I have a killer headache. My heart thuds hard enough to make me nauseous. The feeling’s been there since I received his email yesterday. It’s relentless, never giving me space to think. Perhaps it could be a good thing, but I know deep down it’s not. Today, my life is going to change. I can feel it.
Principal Fraser sent you a message at 16:40.
Miss Rebecca Corrigan, Please attend an investigative meeting with Principal John Fraser on Tuesday, the 12th of May at 09:00.
We have assigned a substitute teacher to your classes for the day. Bring with you your ongoing professional development folder and school identification cards.
Regards, Cynthia Smith (PA to Principal Fraser, Hilltop Manor School)
The illicit photo lies on his desk. To most, it would be an acceptable image. Two people in love, captured in a private moment. But it’s not. It’s so much more. It’s scandalous. A stolen kiss after years of longing, and someone caught it on camera. I wince when I think of what happened next. What the camera didn’t catch. The problem is… I don’t fully remember. Not clearly.
My memories of Saturday night blur into static. The sex with Ben could be from a dream. A wonderful dream, or a terrible one. Either way, I woke up with a hangover and no one speaking to me. Not even my twin sister. And Amy wouldn’t ghost me without good reason.
As Principal Fraser waits for my answer, the door opens, and Cynthia, his PA, totters in on heels so high I’ve no idea how she walks. She sits down at a small side table with her laptop, ready to take notes, peering at me over her broad-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Taking a deep breath, I try again. All that escapes is a giggle. Astute eyes meet mine, strong and taking no prisoners. Principal Fraser sits back in his chair, getting comfortable, then stretches his arms out in front of himself. I’ve seen this mannerism before when collecting his thoughts, weighing up the best course of action. He tries again.
“Would you say you have an issue with alcohol?” The question hangs in the air between us. With no acceptable response coming to mind, I attempt to deflect.
“Can I ask why you felt the need to ask such a question?”
The words tumble out mixed with stupidity. Of course I know why he asked. He eyes me speculatively.“ Yesterday morning, a staff member alerted me to this image of you.” He leans forward and points at the grainy photo. It’s not even an actual photo. Someone took a picture of the CCTV screen. Blurred and low res, but unmistakable—me, pressed against a wall, my arms around Ben. His mouth on mine.
It was our friend Terry’s birthday on Saturday night. And I got drunk. Really fucking drunk. I’ve proven time and again, I don’t learn from my mistakes. The next time, I double down and drink more. Saturday was proof of that.
Ben and I slipped away together when we shouldn’t have. No matter how I cut up the facts to digest, what we did was wrong. Principal Fraser clears his throat, and I glance up from the image, relieved to have something else to stare at, even if it is my boss’s disappointed gaze.
"On further investigation, the bar provided me with footage showing you in a state of total inebriation, acting carelessly and unprofessionally.” He looks me in the eyes, focus unwavering. “Honestly, what I saw was disgusting and certainly not the kind of behavior I expect or tolerate from a teacher, or any staff member, for that matter, at my school.”
My world stops, and time freezes. The office swirls. He continues to talk, listing all the unacceptable behavior he saw. Devastatingly, he’s watched every second. He probablyknows more than me about what happened over the weekend.
“It didn’t mean anything…” I stammer, my deflection mode in full operation. I need to make this go away, because I’m not going to be able to live with the outcome.
“Nothing is merely a kiss, Miss Corrigan. Especially when the man you’re kissing is not only a parent of a pupil but also married.”
And there it is; the sad truth. Not only was I caught romancing someone, but I was getting it on with someone off limits. Heat engulfs my face. I probably resemble a beacon ready to guide a ship in from the sea.
“It’s not that simple,” I say, determined to try to talk myself out of this. “He’s separated.” He lifts his hand, not interested in my excuses. It shouldn’t surprise me; our principal never listens. He makes decisions based on what’s right, no matter the circumstances. That’s why I’ve always admired him.
The rules are for everyone. He’s said that more times than I can remember. And it is a mantra he sticks to. The same goes for me here.No romantic relations with staff or parents at the school; any conflicts of interest must be noted with management before proceeding.
