Wife Or Mistress? The Shocking Truth About My Marriage - Chapter 137: Chapter 137

As summer approached, more students joined the intensive training.
The art studio started hiring more teachers, and our work was reassigned.
This time, I was paired with a new teacher to co-lead a class. I thought it would be the same routine job handover.
Until I saw the face of the new teacher.
I would never forget Jen White's face.
She once tore up a painting I had worked on all night right in front of me, pushed me against the bathroom wall by my hair, poured unidentified liquids on my bed, and dumped cigarette ashes down my collar.
But now she stood before me, immaculately dressed, smiling and extending her hand.
"Looking forward to working with you, Miss Landau."
I couldn't even tell if she remembered me or not.
"You don't look well. Are you okay?" she asked.
She reached out to touch my forehead, but I flinched away, instinctively recalling how she used to smear acrylic paint on my face.
She continued to smile at me.
"If there's anything wrong, please let me know."
"Now, shall we start class?"
That entire morning was difficult for me.
Memories kept flooding back.
With just a few well-placed words, she could turn the whole class against me—"Olivia said she wants to diet, let's respect her alone time," or "Her studio smells kinda funky, maybe we should eat somewhere else."
Before long, an invisible force field formed around my desk. Even when passing me a paintbrush, classmates would use tissues like I was carrying some contagious disease.
When her paintbrush went missing, she made a show of gasping loudly. "You guys... do you think Olivia took it? She's always so weird, lurking in the corner by herself. Who knows what she's eyeing next?"
Then she rallied the others, urging them to search my backpack and art supply box.
"I didn't steal anything!" I finally snapped, my voice cracking. But my protest didn't earn me sympathy—it only fueled Jen's smugness.
"Oh wow, she's defensive! If she didn't take it, why's she freaking out?" Jen cackled, loud enough for everyone to hear. The class erupted in laughter, their eyes locked on me like I was some kind of spectacle.
She was always socially adept. When she wanted to create drama, she could turn me into a clown for everyone's amusement.
By lunchtime, I was still sitting in the classroom.
It reminded me of those days when I was too afraid to even go to the cafeteria.
Someone crouched in front of me.
Somehow, Kenton always appeared exactly when I was at my most vulnerable.
"Why are you so pale?" He reached out to touch my face, but I jerked away.
"Don't touch me!"
I really hated this side of him. He was the one who had been distant before. He was the one who had been harsh to me.
And now he was suddenly concerned?
I didn't want to connect this version of him with the Kenton who had been kind to me before, yet here we were in a similar scene, as if he was the only one I could turn to.
I had no afternoon classes.
I was planning to go back to campus, but I couldn't find my drawing paper, so I headed to the storage room to get some.
As I passed the break room, I heard a familiar voice.
"Did you see her face? She's still afraid of me."
It was Jen's voice.
I just glanced into the break room—just one look to see who she was talking to.
And then my legs froze.
It was Kenton.