All Chapters of SAY MY NAME, WHEN YOU BREAK : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The classroom was quiet. Too quiet. Vera Bradley adjusted the stack of papers on her desk, her fingers brushing the polished wood again and again as if doing so could steady her racing thoughts. “Good morning, everyone,” she said, her voice steady, professional, as she scanned the room. “My name is Dr. Vera Bradley. I will be teaching you…” She listed the course, her tone calm, precise, but her eyes caught on the movement at the back of the room. That was when she saw him. Kael Renner. He didn’t raise his hand, didn’t call out. He didn’t need to. He merely leaned back in the chair at the far end, eyes scanning the room with a calm, unsettling confidence. And yet, every subtle motion—his posture, the way his fingers drummed lightly on the desk—demanded attention. A ripple ran through her chest she didn’t recognize. She cleared her throat. “You’ll find your grades, participation, and attendance will affect your final mark. So, pay attention.” The scrape of a chair. Just that. And

(Kael’s POV) I don’t rush. Never have. The hallway is quiet, almost empty, the echoes of fading footsteps bouncing softly off the walls. Aaron is beside me, talking, jabbering about some nonsense I barely register. Half my attention is on him, the other half… elsewhere. She’s been on my mind more than she should be. She wasn’t in class yesterday. That absence—small, insignificant to anyone else—settled somewhere inside me like a quiet warning I can’t ignore. And then, she’s there. She rounds the corner fast, bag clutched tight at her side, eyes fixed on the floor. She doesn’t see me. Her shoulder collides with mine before I can blink. Light, but enough to make her stumble. My hand moves automatically, resting on her waist. Not rough. Not soft. Just firm, enough to hold her steady. She freezes under my touch. Breath hitches. A faint, quick inhale, just enough to notice. I don’t move. Her eyes snap up. Vera Bradley. Of course. Wide-eyed for a moment, then controlled, professio

The street is quiet when I get home. Too quiet, maybe, but I don’t question it. I unlock the gate and step inside, closing it behind me carefully. Up the stairs. No rush. No noise. Third door on the left. My keys are already in my hand I unlock the first padlock. Then the second. Then the third. Then the fourth. Only when the door opens do my shoulders ease. I step inside and lock everything again, slow and steady. Each lock clicks into place. I test the handle once. Then again. It holds. That’s better. My apartment is small and neat. Nothing out of place. Just the basics. A couch, a table, a bed tucked into the corner. I drop my bag on the chair and kick off my shoes. For a moment, I stand still and listen. Nothing. No voices. No footsteps. No movement. I pull the curtains shut and keep the lights low. The bright overhead light stays off. I don’t like it. Makes the room feel exposed. In the bathroom, I wash my hands longer than needed. The water is warm. I s

(Vera & Aaron POVs) Vera walked into her office, the morning sun cutting across the floor in harsh lines. She felt the weight in her chest, the lingering sting from earlier that morning. Her bag was tight against her side, her fingers gripping the strap a little too hard. She adjusted her sleeve, hoping no one would notice. The marks were hidden, but the soreness in her ribs wasn’t going anywhere. “Good morning, Professor Bradley,” a voice said from behind her. She froze, her heart skipping. Fingers tightening. Aaron. Of course. “Morning,” she said, keeping her tone flat, measured. Calm. Professional. She forced herself to straighten her back and meet the empty space of his eyes—or at least try. He smiled, leaning casually against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket. “I just had a quick question about the lecture slides,” he said. “Thought you might clarify something for me.” Vera forced herself to relax, nodding once. “Sure. What is it?” He stepped closer, taking up mor

The morning air was crisp, but it did little to ease the tension coiling in my chest. My car—Lucente—glided to a stop beside Aaron’s, its black frame gleaming under the early sun. He stepped out first, tall, confident, but even from here, I could see the subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the way his eyes flicked toward the campus entrance.I followed, my own presence calm, deliberate. The students and staff around us froze in subtle awe. Some stared, fear in their eyes. Others admired, whispers trailing behind them. A few simply dared to glance, curiosity brimming at the sight of two men who carried power like armor.We moved through the campus in tandem, silent except for the sound of shoes against pavement. The world didn’t matter—nothing did—except the building ahead, and the girl who had already disrupted both of our routines without even speaking to me.Inside the lecture hall, I let my eyes sweep across the room. Most of the students were settling into their seats, murmurs drif