Lessons in Desire

[15] S- Slamming Doors and Ulterior Plans

The front door slammed shut behind me, and I flinched at the sound, the sharp noise cutting through the uneasy silence that hung in the air. I knew this conversation was coming. I could feel it simmering just below the surface from the moment we left the café—her eyes, sharp and judging, flickering between me and Lorenzo, her lips pressed into a tight line. She was just waiting for the right moment to strike.

I didn't even make it two steps into the living room before my mom's voice pierced the tension."Sophia," she said, her tone steady but edged with something darker. "We need to talk."

I took a deep breath, keeping my back to her as I tossed my bag on the couch. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, the anger I'd been holding back bubbling up, threatening to spill over. I wasn't about to let her corner me like this. Not after what had happened. Not after what she'd done.

"What's there to talk about?" I asked, feigning ignorance as I turned to face her, folding my arms across my chest. My voice came out more clipped than I intended, but I didn't care.

She stared at me, unblinking, her brow furrowed as she searched my face for some kind of answer. "You know exactly what we need to talk about, Sophia. Who was that man at the café? Is he—" She paused, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned on her. "He's a professor, isn't he?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "He's not my teacher, if that's what you're so worried about."

Technically, I wasn't lying. The semester had ended. Lorenzo wasn't my professor anymore. But the truth didn't matter here—what mattered was the accusation. The way she looked at me, like I was some rebellious child caught red-handed.

My mom took a step closer, her voice lowering. "Sophia, I'm not stupid. You were all over him, and don't act like I didn't see the way he looked at you. How long has this been going on? Do you realize how much older than you he is?"

I clenched my fists, the pressure of my nails digging into my palms as the frustration boiled over. "Does it even matter?" I snapped, my voice rising. "Why do you care, Mom? What gives you the right to question anything about my life?"

Her face hardened. "Because you're my daughter. I don't want you making the same mistakes I did."

I barked out a bitter laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "The same mistakes?" I repeated, the words dripping with sarcasm. "You think this is a mistake? You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

Her expression didn't change. She stood her ground, eyes locked on mine, waiting for me to break. But I wasn't going to. Not this time.

"You don't get to lecture me about relationships, Mom," I continued, my voice cold. "Not after everything you've done. Don't pretend like you're so innocent."

She flinched at that, her posture faltering for the briefest moment, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

"You're such a hypocrite," I spat, the words sharp and cutting. "Acting like I'm doing something wrong when you've done far worse. And don't think I don't know about it."

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She stood there, frozen, the accusation hanging in the air between us like a poisonous cloud. We never talked about what happened back then before we moved... and we weren't going to now. I didn't elaborate. I didn't need to. We both knew what I was referring to—what she had done. The things she thought I didn't know. The mistakes she tried to bury.

But I knew.

Her silence was answer enough. She had no defense, no righteous anger to throw back at me. Instead, she just stood there, staring at me with a mixture of shock and—was that guilt?

I turned away, not interested in seeing her face anymore. "I'm going to my room."

Without waiting for a response, I stormed down the hall and slammed my bedroom door behind me. I leaned against it, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. The confrontation with my mom had left me on edge, my emotions raw and tangled.

I needed to talk to Lorenzo.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dialed his number, my heart racing as I listened to the ring. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

Voicemail.

I cursed under my breath and tried again, but the result was the same—nothing. He was avoiding me.

Frustration flared hot inside me, and I threw my phone onto the bed, pacing the room as my mind whirled. Why wasn't he answering? He couldn't just ignore me. Not after everything we had been through. Not after the way he had looked at me last night, the way his hands had felt on my skin, the way he had made me feel. Not after what all I done to get us here.

But now...now he was dodging my calls? What was his problem?

My fingers twitched with the urge to text him, to demand an explanation, but I stopped myself. No. I couldn't let him have that kind of control over me. If he wanted space, fine. But I wasn't going to just sit here and wait around for him to come to his senses.

I needed a new plan.

I didn't know what it was yet, but I knew one thing for sure—I wasn't going to let him push me away. He didn't get to walk away from this. From me.

The new semester was starting soon, and I had already secured a position as a TA. I was replacing the other professor's assistant—the one who had resigned in lieu of termination, according to the whispers around campus. I couldn't help but smirk at the irony. Whoever the unlucky professor was, they clearly hadn't been as careful as they should have been.

Not like me and Lorenzo.

Well, not like me. Lorenzo had been slipping. Getting sloppy. That had to change.

The new professor's name was Dr. Montgomery. I hadn't met him yet, but I'd be working closely with him throughout the semester. It would be...interesting. A fresh start. A new opportunity.

I picked up my phone again and stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over Lorenzo's name in my contacts. A part of me wanted to call him again, to force him to answer. But another part of me—the part that was angry, the part that was done being ignored—wanted to make him regret pushing me away.

He wouldn't be able to stay away for long. I'd make sure of that.

A slow smile crept across my face as I began to piece together my plan. I didn't know exactly how it would unfold, but I knew one thing—I wasn't going to lose control of this. Not now. Not ever.Lorenzo would come back to me.

And when he did, I'd make sure things were different. Better.For now, I'd bide my time.