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47. Into the Grove
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2025-07-11 04:33:01
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Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor 47. Into the Grove
EmonThe directions were vague, more of a riddle than a map. “Drive until the road forgets itself,” the mysterious old man at the front of the library had told me, “then walk until the trees remember your name. They will call to you and you will hear.”Whatever that meant.But I followed his instructions anyway.The paved roads gave way to gravel, and then the gravel gave up entirely and even Siri didn't know where this was. By the time I stopped the car, the world had grown quiet. Not peaceful, quiet. Heavy quiet. Like the forest was listening. Like something was watching.I killed the engine and stepped out. The crunch of my boots on dead leaves was too loud, like I was interrupting something sacred. I grabbed my flashlight, my bag, and locked the car behind me, even though I had the strange feeling that locks didn’t matter out here. If something wanted to get in, it would.The tree line loomed in front of me, black against the dying light of day. Shadows stretched long across the
Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor 46. Freedom From the Bond
EmonI didn’t know what I expected to feel walking back into the house that day. Relief, maybe. Closure, even. Instead, all I felt was dread pooling at the pit of my stomach as soon as I saw Albert curled up on the couch, trembling like a leaf caught in a storm and with tears streaming down his beautiful face.“Albert? Baby? What's wrong?” I dropped the envelope of notes I had collected at the library and rushed to him. “What’s wrong? What happened, Love?”His skin was damp with sweat, and his breath came in shallow gasps. His arms were wrapped tightly around himself, like he was holding something broken in place.“It’s fine,” he whispered, though nothing about him looked fine. “I’m fine. It will pass.”I crouched in front of him and touched his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, glazed and weary, but they found mine. “Is it Edward?”A pause…. then, a weak nod.My stomach turned over.“You went to him again,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. Not angry. Not yet. Just... sh
Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor 45. Through the Ashes of Knowing
EmonI have always been the kind of man who needed answers.When I was five, I took apart my father's watch just to understand how the ticking worked. I couldn't put it back together, but I stared at its pieces for hours, memorizing every gear, every spring, every secret held inside.That’s how it felt now, with Albert.Like I was watching the man I loved slowly unravel into pieces I didn’t understand. Pieces that no logic, no science, no normal explanation could touch.So I began to dig.The morning after I held him while he cried himself to sleep, I kissed his forehead and left the house while he was still breathing softly in bed. He looked fragile. Breakable. But he looked… safe. At peace. At least for a little while.I needed to keep it that way.I didn’t know where to begin exactly. You don’t just walk into a café and say “Hey, I think my boyfriend’s a werewolf. Does anyone know anything about them?” No. But I knew how to look for patterns. How to read between lines. How to follo
Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor 44. Enough was Enough
EmonThe silence in the house had a new texture to it.It wasn’t peace.It was absence, thick and echoing. A hollow sort of quiet that made you feel like something had just slipped past you, just out of reach, and left behind the scent of sorrow.Albert wasn’t in bed when I woke up.Again.The sheets beside me were cool, untouched. No imprint of his body. No warmth. Just a space that once belonged to him.I sat on the edge of the mattress, running a hand over my face as the ache in my chest settled deeper. My fingers paused at my temples, my head had been pounding every morning lately. Probably from all the pretending.Pretending I didn’t notice the late-night walks that lasted too long.Pretending I didn’t hear the soft click of the door when he thought I was asleep.Pretending I didn’t smell another scent on his clothes when he returned, a scent I couldn’t name but that stirred something deep in me. Something ancient. Something afraid.The funny thing about heartbreak is that it doe
Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor 43. Between the Lines
AlI woke up to the gray hush of morning, the blanket tangled around my legs like a forgotten promise. Emon lay beside me, his back to me, breathing evenly. The silence between us felt heavier than the night before.We hadn’t even finished. We couldn't and I knew that I was to blame. My body had been present, my hands had moved as they should, but my heart… my heart had been somewhere else entirely. With someone else.I sat up quietly and rubbed my face, guilt curling in my chest like smoke. Emon stirred.“You are up early,” he said, voice husky with sleep.“Yeah,” I replied, trying to sound normal. “Couldn’t sleep much.”He rolled over to look at me, his brown eyes searching mine. There was no accusation in them, only… disappointment. He smiled faintly. “I have to run some errands,” he said, sitting up and stretching. “I’ll be out for a while. Need anything?” He asked.I nodded. “Okay. No. I'm good.”He got dressed without saying much more. Before leaving, he kissed my forehead, sof
Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor 42. Echoes of What We Were
AlThe room is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that has weight, that presses against the skin and sinks into the bones.Emon lies beside me, his chest bare, one hand resting limply on my stomach. We are tangled in the sheets, and his breath is slow, tentative. He’s waiting for me to move. Or maybe for something more than just my body.I shift slightly, and that’s all he needs. He leans in, lips brushing my neck. It’s soft and gentle just the way he’s always been. The kind of lover who touches with reverence. Who waits. Who worships. Who loves without asking for anything in return.But all I feel is… emptiness.I let him kiss me. Let his hands glide down my chest. Let him press against me and sigh into my mouth. And when he eases over me, looking down with eyes that once made my heart race, I force a smile.It doesn’t reach my eyes. I know that. I feel the falseness in it, the hollow curve of my lips. And what I hate even more is the fact that I can't even pretend anymore. He doe
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