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40. Where Grace Hurts

Author: Cate_Mae
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-03 01:19:07

Al

The door opened, and there he stood.

Emon. The man I dreaded to face but had to face.

His eyes met mine like he had been expecting me, like maybe he had felt it, somehow, even before I had knocked.

I swallowed hard, but my voice wouldn’t come. Guilt had lodged itself in my throat like a jagged stone. I felt like shit for what I had done to the man who I knew adored me.

He didn’t speak.

He just stepped aside, silent and calm, and held the door open for me.

“Welcome back," he said with a smile that cut through me and I hung my head in shame.

My legs moved before my mind could catch up. I stepped inside, half-hoping he would slam the door shut behind me and scream, tell me to get out, call me every name I deserved. Because I did deserve his anger.

But instead…

He closed it gently and with a welcoming smile.

"Sit," he said softly, motioning toward the armchair near the fireplace.

I sat because I didn’t know what else to do. My hands rested on my knees, fists clenched, as the silence wr
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  • Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    64. Three Months

    Emon Ever since I came back from Bibi Kamwe’s, I haven't been myself. It's as if there is a presence following me and it's not friendly. I know what I have to do and I think that that's what's nagging me at the back of my mind.I don't have time and I have to act fast.I stood at the mirror, fixing my collar, but my reflection didn’t hold my attention. My mind was elsewhere. Three months. That’s all I had. Bibi Kamwe had made it clear that every ritual had a rhythm, every spell a lifespan, and the energy she had unlocked for me would burn out in ninety days. After that, if I hadn’t broken the bond between Albert and Edward, the window would close. And there was no telling when, or if, it would open again.The worst part? I had to make Albert willing. The bond could only be severed with his emotional and physical self present and part of that meant that I had to tell him what I intended to do but I also felt that he couldn’t know what I was doing. Not yet.I turned away from the mirro

  • Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    63. Moving Pieces in the Dark

    EdwardI have lived long enough to recognize the faint tremors in the earth before a storm. Something was shifting. I could feel it in my bones, in the air I breathed, in the silence that had started to settle around Albert like a mourning veil. He was pulling away, even if he didn’t mean to. And I… I was afraid that I would lose him all over again.But I wasn’t going to stand still this time.I stood by the large window of my study, fingers loosely gripping my phone, eyes fixed on the tree-lined horizon as the sun dipped beyond the ridge. The Grove: That’s where Emon had been. I had followed his scent trail from the apartment, sharp, human and a bit bitter, and it had led me there. Not many humans dared go that deep into the wild. Not unless they had a reason.And no one went to the Grove unless they were seeking someone like her.Bibi Kamwe. That perverted old hag that won't just die.A chill crawled up my spine.My jaw clenched, and I exhaled through my nose, forcing my hand to re

  • Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    62. The Scent of Secrets

    EdwardI knew something was wrong the moment Albert walked out of my office after the accusation of me knowing where Emon was. His scent was clouded with guilt and confusion. He hadn’t said it, but I saw it in his eyes: the ache, the uncertainty. I didn’t press him. I couldn’t. I had marked him, claimed him, taken him, and yet… he still went back to the human.To Emon.I swear that if I didn't love Albert as much as I did, if he wasn't my son's best friend, I would have killed Emon already. It's just that I had hurt him enough and didn't want to add to my transgressions towards him.I tried to keep my thoughts steady. Tried not to spiral. But after three days and no word, no sighting of Emon, I couldn’t sit still anymore. Albert may have been too emotionally tangled to think clearly, but I wasn’t. And so I followed the oldest instinct in the book.His scent.Even in a city as dense and chaotic as this one, scents don’t lie.I left the school just before sunset, my senses on high alert

  • Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    61. Pieces in Motion

    EmonZev stepped onto the balcony first, casting a wary glance around like he always did when he went to a place he has never been to. Old habits. I let the door close gently behind us and turned to face him. From the living room, I could still smell the burnt rice. I had forgotten about the food. About everything, the moment Albert threw his arms around me. I couldn't control it.It had taken everything in me not to hold him too tight. Not to bury my face in his neck and breathe in that scent that made my bones hum. Not to say things I wasn’t ready to say yet.But Zev was here now. And I had work to do. I had to hide the feelings I had. The way I had missed him.“Well?” I asked, leaning on the iron rail. The city murmured below us, the heat of the afternoon softening beneath the drifting clouds.Zev pulled out his phone and scrolled, then held it up with a photo of a man that was not new to me.“This is all we’ve got. Name’s Edward Green. Used to live in Atlanta. High school teacher

  • Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    60. The Man I Didn't Know

    AlbertWhen I opened the door, I didn’t expect to be met by a towering figure whose presence filled the entire frame.He was huge, dark-skinned with broad shoulders that strained against his tight, sleeveless shirt. His chest was barrel-like, arms thick with coiled muscle and crisscrossed with faded scars. His face looked like it had been carved from granite: sharp jawline, flattened nose, and deep-set eyes that scanned me like a threat before he tried, and failed, to soften them with a smile. Even that smile looked like it had to fight its way through a decade of street fights and hard years. His hair was cropped low, his beard was rough and patchy, and tattoos snaked up the side of his neck.I didn’t breathe.“Uh… sorry,” he said, his voice deep and hoarse, like someone who didn’t talk unless it was absolutely necessary. “Is Mr. Smith inside?”I blinked, brain scrambling to catch up.“Smith?” I echoed stupidly, because no part of me connected that name to anyone I knew. I had forgot

  • Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    59. Almost

    AlI stood frozen in the doorway of our tiny kitchen.There he was. Emon. Back.He was back, he was alive, breathing, as if nothing had happened.He stood at the stove, flipping something in a pan like it was any other evening. Like he hadn’t disappeared for three full days. Like I hadn’t nearly gone mad wondering if he was dead or hurt or… worse…. Left me.His back was turned to me, shoulders moving with the ease of routine. The smell of rosemary and butter lingered in the air. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to run into his arms. I wanted to shake him until the silence cracked. I wanted an explanation. Anything… to get a reaction from him.Instead, I just stood there like a child who had forgotten how to speak.When he finally turned, our eyes locked.He didn’t smile. He didn't flinch. He was cold in a way that I had never seen him. Emon had never looked at me the way he was now.Neither did I speak and I stood there looking at him too.The moment stretched. One long, aching thr

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