A Broken Idiot

River's POV.

I felt everyone’s eyes snap to me.

Hot and heavy, like a thousand little knives against my skin.

I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. I just sat there and stared back at him, my heart beating so loud it tuned out whatever else he said.

Daniel didn’t look away either.

He said a few more things about expectations, deadlines, all the normal stuff a professor says on the first day, but it sounded like he was speaking underwater.

I caught flashes of movement — students write down notes, someone clicking a pen too fast, a girl whispering to her friend. But it was all background noise.

All I could feel was him.

When class ended, everyone stood up gathering their stuff to run away, laughing, joking, talking about the weekend.

I stayed in my seat, pretending to organize my things, even though my hands were shaking too much to be useful.

I could feel Noah, one of the few people I spoke to in class, shoot me a look on his way out, his voice low as he passed.

"Already causing trouble, huh, Stormhill?"

I didn’t answer. I just gave him a small, tight smile, and he laughed like it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

After the last students left, we made our way to his office after everyone had left the lecture hall. He opened it and invited me in before shutting the door with a soft click.

The silence between us made me wish for the ground to open and swallow me.

He leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, studying me like I was some project file placed on his desk.

"How are you doing?" he asked finally, voice smooth laced with the same edge that teachers back home used when they catch delinquent students trying to go over the wall.

So distant but close at the same time.

Like he wasn’t the man I used to dream about.

Like he wasn’t the man I caught kissing my cousin.

Like he wasn’t the reason I left everything behind.

I stuffed my notebook into my bag and stood, forcing my voice to stay steady.

"Fine."

Short. Sharp. The kind of answer that doesn’t invite anymore unnecessary questions from him.

But of course he didn’t take the hint.

He moved, slow and easy, like he had all the time in the world.

The way he always did.

"I heard you disappeared," he said, reaching for a stack of papers on the corner of his desk, pretending to straighten them. "Elliot said you just… left."

I laughed under my breath, but there was no humor in it.

"You heard, huh?"

He glanced at me then, just for a second.

Long enough for me to see it — the guilt, the hesitation.

"Why?" he asked, voice low. "Why did you leave without saying anything?"

I stared at him, blood pounding in my ears.

Why?

Why?

The audacity of that question burned through me like acid.

I took a step closer, my bag dropping to the floor with a dull thud.

"Why do you think?" I said, my voice shaking now, but not from fear. From anger.

From everything I had tried to bury for the last two years.

Daniel opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Good. Let him choke on it.

"You don't get to act like you don't know," I snapped. "You don't get to pretend you were clueless."

His jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Still, he said nothing.

I shook my head, biting down on the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

"You were kissing him, knowing what I had for you," I said, forcing the words out, each one like a punch to the gut. "Karden. My cousin. You—"

"I know," Daniel said hoarsely, cutting me off.

I laughed again, a broken, ugly sound that bounced off the walls.

"You know," I repeated. "Yeah. Of course you do."

I turned toward the door. I needed to leave before I did something stupid. Before I said something I couldn't take back.

But before I could reach it, he caught my wrist.

His touch was electric, sending a shock straight up my arm.

"River—" he said, voice low, urgent.

I yanked my hand back like he burned me.

"Don't," I hissed.

But he didn’t listen.

He stepped closer, so close I could feel the heat rolling off him.

So close I could smell the faint scent of coffee and soap clinging to his skin.

"River," he said again, softer this time.

Almost a whisper.

And then…

Then he kissed me.

No warning.

No hesitation.

His hands cupped my face, tilting it up, and his mouth crashed into mine with a desperation that knocked the air out of my lungs.

For a heartbeat, I froze.

Shocked. Angry. Broken.

But then —

God help me —

I kissed him back.

Because no matter how much I hated him, no matter how much I wanted to forget, my body still remembered him.

Still wanted him.

Still crave him as it did when I was seventeen.

His lips moved against mine like he was trying to memorize me. Like he was trying to apologize without words.

My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer even as my mind screamed at me to stop.

I could feel everything in that kiss — the regret, the longing, the years I've spent trying to bury every feeling.

It wrapped around me, swallowing me whole.

But then, just as suddenly, I shoved him back.

Breathing hard.

Shaking all over.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, voice raw, broken. "What the hell are you trying to prove?"

Daniel stared at me, chest heaving, lips red from the kiss.

"I—" he started, but he didn’t seem to know how to finish.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand like I could erase what just happened.

Like I could erase him.

"You don't get to do this," I said, voice cracking. "You don't get to kiss me like that after everything."

"River—"

"No!" I snapped, cutting him off. "You made your choice, Mr wellington."

I grabbed my bag off the floor and slung it over my shoulder, my hands still shaking.

"You want to play teacher now?" I spat. "Fine. Be my professor. Grade my papers. Pretend this never happened. Just don't—"

My voice broke.

I couldn’t finish.

Couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, I opened the door and fled down the hallway, my sneakers squeaking against the floor.

I didn’t stop until I was outside, I felt the air on my face and everything emotions that were at the peak came crashing down.

I bent over, hands on my knees, trying to suck in a full breath.

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall.

I wouldn't give him that.

I wouldn’t.

I wiped my eyes angrily and straightened up, heart pounding against my ribs.

I was fine.

I was fine.

I was—

"River!"

I turned. Daniel was standing in the doorway, looking as wrecked as I felt.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Just one hot man who's old to be my father and one broken idiot staring at each other.

He took a step toward me.

I took a step back.

He stopped.

Good.

Because if he touched me again, I didn’t know if I could survive it.