Contos e Romances de Romance com Teacher

On Teacher's Day, my wife, Hera, was promoted to associate professor. Even for our marriage we simply registered without a proper ceremony, yet this time, she specifically prepared a feast at home to celebrate. During the dinner, she took out the flowers a male student had given her and was about to put them in a vase. Without warning, I knocked the flowers out of her hand, flipped over the vase, and, under the bewildered gazes of the whole family, calmly said, "Let's get a divorce." Hera was stunned at first, then angrily snapped, "Stanley Lawson, what's gotten into you? I’m just putting some flowers my student gave me in a vase. What's the big deal?" My mother-in-law, Sarah Swift, chimed in, "Hera just got promoted to associate professor, and it's Teacher's Day. What's wrong with a student giving her flowers? Are you seriously getting jealous over that?" I glanced at the scattered petals on the floor and slowly said, "Yes, it's because of these flowers that I want a divorce."

For our ninety-ninth engagement ceremony, Julian booked us a skydive. He said he wanted to tell me he loved me at thirty thousand feet. My chute didn't open. I got tangled in a big tree. I survived, yet suffered multiple fractures all over my body. In the ward, I accidentally saw a message on the screen of our jump instructor's phone. It was addressed to Julian, and it carried a video. The video showed someone tampering with my chute before we boarded. So the "accident" was Julian's idea? I dragged myself out of bed on crutches, every bone in my body screaming, ready to confront him. I made it as far as the hallway. He was already there, talking to someone, and the moment I saw the other man, the floor tilted under me. The man across from him was the same driver who'd hit me with his car the night before our last engagement. The hit-and-run that should have killed me. "Mr. Veil, if you ever need me again, please reach out." Julian's voice was flat, almost tired. "There won't be a next time. I've tried everything I can think of. The engagement can't be postponed anymore." "And the woman you actually love, sir?" "I'll keep loving her," Julian said. "But Ada is the one I marry. Her mother gave my father a kidney. That's the debt. I have to pay it." I stood there shaking, and the truth rearranged itself behind my eyes. The camping trip he had planned, where I got lost and nearly died of hypothermia in the woods. That had been him. The vitamin C he had handed me, the one that put me in the ICU. Him too. And this time — the skydive, thirty thousand feet, “I want the sky to witness our love”. All of it. Every single one of those accidents was him trying to delay the wedding. But Julian, I thought, I could save you the trouble. The next morning I accepted an offer that had been sitting in my inbox for weeks: an invitation from a world-class orchestra on the other side of the planet.

Right after I got pregnant by accident, all three of my friends-with-benefits coworkers dumped me. "You're just a girl from an ordinary family. My parents would never accept you. Stop clinging to me." "Babe, my first love is back in the country. I can't keep playing this game with you anymore. It's over." "Take your dirty money and get the hell out of my life!" I didn't tell any of them. I slipped away to Europe and had the baby in secret. But the moment I disappeared, all three of them lost it: [You heartless woman.] [Anna, pulling the vanishing act again? Playing hard to get much?] [Baby, forget about her. I don't want my childhood sweetheart anymore. Just come back, please?]

The night before our big offline meetup, my roommate took one look at my internet boyfriend's photo and declared it was a fake. "Using a stolen photo for an online romance? He's definitely insecure and too ugly to show his real face!" The next day, my boyfriend texted: [Sorry, something came up at the last minute. Can you wait half an hour?] I breathed a sigh of relief because I had just been notified about an exclusive expert lecture on campus. Word was, the speaker was an academic powerhouse, and the university had paid a fortune to secure him. I snagged a seat in the front row. But the moment I looked up at the podium, my stomach dropped. Why did this famous scholar look so much like my boyfriend in the "stolen photo"?

When my wife's student, Damon Herman, tries to kill himself again, I don't rush to save him. Instead, I calmly step back. Down below, my wife, Sophie Barrett, turns pale. She yells up at me in a panic, "Don't back away! What are you doing? Pull him down!" In my last life, at the exact same critical moment, I lunged forward to grab Damon, but he shoved me off the ledge. In that final second, there was no fear on his face. Instead, there was only a satisfied smirk. "You have to die for me to get what I want. Don't worry. I'll take good care of Professor Barrett. You can rest in peace now." After my fall, Sophie locked herself away for three days, refusing to eat or drink. I thought she would help me get revenge, but instead, she used mental instability as an excuse to help Damon escape. A year later, they got married. Mom killed herself over the grief, leaving Dad all alone to fight for justice. When I open my eyes, I'm back on the very day Damon pretends to jump.

My twin sister Selena was the most troublesome grad student my fiancé, Professor Adrian Hall, had ever taken on. Skipping class, showing up late, doctoring observation curves. Every time she walked into his lab, the two of them seemed ready to set the whole college on fire. I told Adrian to stop using that tribunal tone with her. But he explained, "Eve, if she keeps drifting like this, sooner or later she'll ruin herself." When he looked at Selena, his gray-blue eyes were as cold as a lake on a winter night. "Have every raw record on my oak desk before eight tomorrow morning. One page short, and you don't set foot in the observation tower for the rest of the month." I felt embarrassed for Selena, and grateful that I'd fallen for the right man. Adrian Hall was the youngest tenured professor at St. George's College. Tall and lean, always in a dark gray cashmere coat, shirt buttoned to the very top. He could dismantle an entire model in the calmest voice, and still hold an umbrella over me on a rainy night, so gentle it made me believe I was the one exception outside his academic world. Until the day we were preparing the wedding invitations. I borrowed his tablet, and my finger accidentally slipped into a document buried under layers of folders. Inside were five hundred and twenty memos. [Punishment No. 519: Selena talked back to me again. I kept her in my office and fucked her until three in the morning;by the end she didn't have the strength left to even look up at me.] [Punishment No. 520: She got jealous. She insisted I leave something behind inside Eve's wedding dress — to prove that the white gown meant to symbolize purity could be dirtied by her too.] With trembling hands, I scrolled to the video at the very bottom. On the screen, the aloof and untouchable Professor Hall was down on one knee on his office carpet, kissing the rose tattoo on Selena's ankle. "Selena, stop torturing me. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you, alright?"

When I missed the passing grade by one point, my best friend dragged me to a bar. She said there was nothing a drink couldn't fix. I drank until I blacked out. When I woke up, a man lay beside me, all cool eyes and tightly leashed control. I left two hundred dollars on the nightstand and ran for my life. I thought I'd never see him again. Then, on the first day of the new semester, the class I'd failed had a new professor. I looked up at the podium. The man from that night stood at the lectern, opened the roster, and read my name in a cool, even voice. "Vivian Harper, come see me in my office tomorrow." The color drained from my face. Convinced he was here for payback, I stayed up all night writing a transfer application. The next day, I clutched my transfer application all the way to his office. Before I could work up the nerve to speak, he pulled out a sheet of paper and studied me with an unreadable expression. "I've read the assignment you turned in." "Care to explain why a positive pregnancy test was bound into your term paper?"