All Chapters of His Forbidden Model: The Professor's Obsession: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

JasmineThe papers covered Davin's kitchen table by the time Patricia finished organizing everything.Patricia had given everything a place, labeling each piece of evidence and separating it into its own folder. Watching her sort through it eased something in me. With every folder she closed and every document she placed in its proper stack, some of the tightness in my shoulders loosened.For the first time in days, I had something to do besides refreshing my phone and waiting for the next piece of bad news.Patricia Reyes had been recommended by someone from Davin's old gallery circle. Within minutes of sitting across from her, I saw why he trusted her. She asked direct questions, took careful notes, and never once reached for an easy answer."Jason's testimony changes things greatly," she said, sliding one folder toward me. "The evidence of drugging gives us a much stronger argument. This is no longer just a situation involving an inappropriate relationship between a professor and s

JasmineThree hours.That was how long we waited for the committee to reconvene, and it was the longest three hours I could remember living through.Ari and Bella were on either side of me on the hallway bench, both of them unusually quiet. Normally, they would have found a way to distract me by cracking a joke or even complaining about the terrible university coffee, but today, neither of them said much.My gaze shifted to Davin, across from us, pacing back and forth. He had barely sat down since we left the hearing room. I watched him run a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time.I’d never seen him like that—jaw tightening and fingers flexing at his sides.“You know you’re making me nervous, right?” Ari finally said.Davin stopped and turned to her. “What?”“You’ve walked past us at least fifty times.”His brow arched. “Fifty?”“Okay, maybe forty.”Despite everything, a faint smile tugged at my mouth, but it disappeared as soon as the sound of approaching footst

JASMINETwo weeks after Davin left, the whispers still followed me.At first, I had convinced myself they would fade. Campus gossip never lasted forever, and eventually, someone else would become the center of attention. Eventually, people would stop looking at me like I was the most interesting thing that had happened all semester.But that never happened. If anything, the stories became worse.Every time someone repeated what happened, the details changed, a new lie was added, and then a situation that was already painful became something completely unrecognizable.The person people talked about in those hallways didn’t even feel like me anymore. She was some made-up version of Jasmine Buston who had manipulated and seduced her professor for grades, ruined his career, and somehow deserved every cruel comment thrown her way.I started keeping my head down, and I stopped staying in crowded places longer than necessary or even making eye contact with people I didn’t know because I had

JasmineI was elbow-deep in soapy dishwater when the doorbell rang, my mother halfway through folding laundry in the next room."I'll get it!"I dried my hands on a dish towel and walked toward the front door, expecting one of the neighbors or maybe a delivery. I opened it without checking first and froze the moment my eyes landed on him."Davin?"He wore a plain dark jacket, his hair slightly messy from the drive, and there was a tiredness around his face that told me he had been on the road for hours. He looked different from the man who used to walk through Brooklyn University with everyone watching him.Here, on my mother’s porch, he simply looked like Davin."Hi," he said.I stared at him for another second before I stepped forward and threw my arms around him. He caught me immediately, wrapping me against his chest as I buried my face in his jacket. The familiar scent of him hit me so hard that my eyes burned."What are you doing here?" I pulled back, keeping my hands on his arm

DavinI typed the message three times, then deleted it three times.Happy birthday, Jasmine.That was all I wanted to say. Four simple words, nothing complicated or crossing the boundary that we had created.My thumb hovered over the send button for nearly a minute before I finally locked my phone and placed it down on the table.I told myself I was respecting the space we had agreed to give each other and that it was the mature thing to do, the right thing. But the truth was, I wasn't completely sure if I was giving her space or simply protecting myself from the possibility that she might already be moving on.It had been almost six weeks since our last real conversation.A call here, a message there, small pieces of our old connection carried into our new reality.Then our lives became busy. My paintings demanded more of my attention, and apparently, her classes became more difficult. She was building a new life three hours away while I was trying to rebuild mine from the ground up.