When I Stopped Calling Him Daddy, the Professor Fell Apart

"Please, you're seriously the only one who can save this world!"

The system I hadn't heard from in a year was crying inside my head.

"Sebastian has lost it. He keeps trying to kill himself. I don't have enough energy left to stop him. Without the male lead, this entire world is finished!"

I answered flatly.

"Even if I go back, I won't love him the way I did before."

"That's fine! I just need you there!" It threw out the offer in a rush. "Only three months. Once the world is stable again, I'll send you straight back. I'll return your feelings and pay you a hundred million. Deal?"

That sounded reasonable.

And with no emotions, he couldn't hurt me.

...

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing at the gate of that familiar estate.

Sebastian Grey walked toward me.

The young professor the whole campus worshipped—cold, controlled, untouchable—now looked more like something that had been caged for far too long.

But when he saw me, the darkness and fury in his eyes shattered, and what was left looked almost like desperation.

I watched him quietly.

His hand came up and then stopped. He didn't dare touch me.

"...Ella?"

I thought back to three years ago.

I'd shown up at his door with a fever, carrying dessert I'd made for him, and he'd kept me outside all night.

I cried and asked him if I meant anything to him at all. He said, "You're too loud."

But none of that touched me now.

So I gave him the same smile I used to give him back when I loved him.

"Professor. It's been a while."

He went completely still.

"Why aren't you calling me Daddy?"

A second later, he pulled me into his arms so hard it nearly knocked the breath out of me.

"It's okay, Ella... you're back... you finally came back..."

His voice broke from rough to something close to a sob.

I patted him on the back.

The way you'd calm down a stranger who was losing it.

Because to me, that's exactly what he was.

His gray eyes searched my face.

That look—frantic, terrified, hungry, and something else. Obsessive.

"Come on. Let's go home."

He took my hand and locked his fingers through mine.

The gate closed behind us, and he leaned down and spoke against my ear.

"I'm never letting you leave again."

All I thought was: ninety days left.

Sebastian put me in the master bedroom.

The enormous walnut bed was made up with the cotton sheets I liked. A fresh bunch of white roses sat on the nightstand.

The closet was full of women's clothing, every piece in my size.

Even the niche perfume I'd mentioned exactly once—smells like my grandmother's backyard when I was little—sat out in the most obvious spot on the vanity.

None of it looked like it had been put together in a hurry.

It looked like he'd been getting it ready for a long time.

"Your old guest room was too small. The light was bad." He stood in the doorway, but his eyes tracked every direction mine moved, watching my face as I took in each detail.

"I had it redone. Tell me if anything's missing and I'll have it brought in."

I nodded. "It's lovely. Thank you, Professor."

His eyelashes flickered.

Every time I said Professor, it hit him like something sharp.

"Hungry?" he asked. "I made the things you like."

"Sure."

Six dishes were laid out on the table, every one of them something I used to love.

In the center was a bowl of tomato soup.

I looked at it, and my mind went back to a winter two years ago.

I'd been running a slight fever, curled up shivering on his apartment couch, wanting more than anything to have something warm to drink.

He was in the study on a video call with Vivienne. Without turning around he said, "There are instant soup packets in the kitchen. Make one yourself."

Then Vivienne mentioned she was a little hungry.

He went straight to the kitchen and made her tomato soup from scratch.

Standing there watching, I felt colder than the winter outside.

Now that same tomato soup was sitting right in front of me.

"I made that one myself."

Sebastian sat across from me, his long fingers working nervously at the edge of the tablecloth.

"You said once you wanted hot soup. I practiced for a long time. Try it."

People are always like this, aren't they.

They don't care until it's gone.

The thought drifted through my mind and dissolved without leaving a mark.

I picked up the spoon and took a sip.

It was actually good.

"It's delicious." I smiled at him. "Thank you, Professor."

His shoulders dropped.

"Ella." His voice went low. "Are you... still angry with me?"

"No." I shook my head, and I meant it.

I didn't love him and I didn't hate him. You can't blame a stranger for anything.

"Then why are you—"

The doorbell rang.

A housekeeper appeared. "Mr. Grey. Miss Vivienne is here."

Sebastian's brow tightened.

But he didn't tell them to turn her away.

He glanced at me—like he was expecting something, or testing for it.

Vivienne Grey.

Sebastian's foster sister. The thorn lodged between us the entire time.

"Oh my God, Ella?"

She saw me and her face lit up. She hurried over and grabbed both my hands.

"You're back! I'm so happy! I missed you so much!"