Page 74 of Forbidden Professor


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Fear flashes across her features. She quickly shuts it down, and asks, “And you tried to get in the middle of all this?”

“When I did, my father’s temper was always at its boiling point. I was so afraid he’d hit her, I’d just take the brunt of it myself.”

“He hit you?”

I don’t want to answer that. I don’t want to admit what my childhood was like. Overall, I had an excellent life. There wasn’t much to complain about except for this. Seeing her so sympathetic toward me now is too painful for words. I don’t deserve her sympathy. Especially after all she’s suffered in her life. I just had to deal with the occasional explosions of my hotheaded father.

I shrug. “Poor little rich kid, right?”

“You were still a kid.” The silence stretches between us. “Is that how you got the scar over your eye?”

I look down. How do you explain something like that? “Yeah. That was the last fight my parents ever had. My father broke a glass against the side of my head. I was out cold. My mother thought he’d hit my temple and killed me. She never argued with him after that. I guess she didn’t want to risk me stepping in again.”

She finally walks toward me. Her hands come up to the side of my face, caressing my jawline, my cheeks and my brow. I lean into her. “Well, you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

I nod and press a kiss into her palm. “You should probably check if the hospital has called.”

She moves away from me and checks her phone. Her fingers skim over the screen, tapping on random keys and buttons beyond my view. Instantly, her face lights up. She does a little endearing hop that forces a smile from me.

“Omigosh,” is all she says.

“What is it? Is your mother doing better?”

“It’s not that.” She’s bubbling over with so much excitement, she can just barely even form words. “It’s about the apprenticeship. I got it. They chose me.”

The apprenticeship?

So much for my recommendation. Jackson is going to think I never gave it. I should have known Jackson’s proposal wouldn’t stand a chance against Aly’s, even with my stamp of approval.

The apprenticeship went to Aly.

Fuck. We’re screwed.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Aly

Imade it through the next day with my mother, before returning to school.

If anything, I need to touch base with my professors, collect any necessary materials and explain the situation that may take me out of class for an additional week. That should give me enough time to work out what to do with my mother.

For now, the hospital has her under a forty-eight-hour observation period. I’m nauseated just thinking about the size of that bill, but it’s a relief to know my mother is safe for now. Zach was right. There isn’t anything I can do to prevent any horrible thing from ever happening to her again. I can’t control what my mother does, but I can control the kind of help she needs.

Whatever I have to do, be it a hospital ward for long-term recovery or hiring someone to come to the house on my days off, I will make it work.

Somehow.

It feels like forever since I’ve walked across this campus. Everything has changed so much in just a short period of time. With my mother, with Zach. Even now, the apprenticeship is all mine. There’s no question behind whether my proposal will take flight. I’ll have a secured wealth of resources to work with, someone to apprentice under and gain valuable experience to help me moving forward.

What’s even more exciting is I’ll be helping my community. I’ll be working toward something I love. And there is no greater feeling in the world than making that happen.

I walk into my first class of the day. The few students who are already in their seats turn to face me. Their eyes widen as they take in my appearance. I’m not dressed that much out of place, but then I’m not a fashion guru like Lyndsey. Either way, I didn’t think it elicited this kind of attention.

Someone snickers to the right of me. I take my seat and try to ignore the whispering. This is odd. I’m not late, entering a room full of college students while the professor is mid-lecture. That might garner some attention, but even this level of attention seems excessive. You’d think I was wearing a giant chicken mask for all the confused stares I’m getting.

I’m fully clothed, aren’t I?

I double-check, just to ensure this hasn’t slowly turned into that recurring nightmare that’s haunted my dreams since childhood.

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