Lessons in Desire

[23] L- Cracks in the Facade

I stared at the glowing screen of my phone, the words of the last email still burned into my mind. "I'm always watching." That was two days ago, and since then, the silence had been deafening. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off, not knowing when or how it would happen. But it would. That much I was sure of.

Every time my phone buzzed, my stomach twisted into knots. I couldn't sleep. Could barely eat. Sophia was calling more often than usual, trying to meet up, her messages increasingly persistent. But I kept her at arm's length. I couldn't afford to be careless again—not now. Not when everything could come crashing down around me.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting my tie with shaking fingers. My eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, dark circles forming under them. I used to feel powerful when I walked into a room. Now, I felt exposed, like every set of eyes on me was somehow part of this conspiracy, waiting for me to slip up.

Sophia had been trying to catch me all week. Between classes, after lectures—hell, even in the halls between faculty meetings. She was like a heat-seeking missile, zeroing in on me every time I turned a corner. I'd had to make excuses, duck into side rooms, even pretend I was on important phone calls just to keep her away.

This wasn't sustainable. Sooner or later, she'd figure out something was wrong.

I couldn't risk it. Not when the blackmailer could be watching us. Another slip-up like the janitor's closet and we were done for. I was done for.

Just as I finished tying the knot on my tie, my phone buzzed again. My heart skipped a beat. Every time that screen lit up, I expected another cryptic message, another demand. But when I glanced down, it was just a text from Sophia.

Can we talk? I'm getting worried. I miss you.

A pang of guilt twisted in my chest. It wasn't her fault. I hated treating her this way, dodging her like she was the problem. But what was I supposed to say? Sorry, Sophia. I can't see you right now because someone's blackmailing me with a video of us all but fucking in a janitor's closet.

No. That wasn't an option.

Instead, I typed out a quick response, keeping it short, keeping it vague.

Busy. I'll call you later.

I knew it was a lie even as I hit send.

The halls of the university felt different now. Every conversation I overheard, every student that glanced my way, made me wonder if they knew. If somehow, they were in on it. Paranoia was eating me alive, clouding every interaction.

I ducked into my lecture hall early, hoping to avoid Sophia before my class started. The room was empty, save for a few students trickling in early, setting up their laptops and chatting amongst themselves. I could feel the eyes of one student linger on me a second too long, and my skin crawled. Was it him? Was he the one sending the emails?

I couldn't keep doing this—looking over my shoulder, suspecting everyone.

I walked to the podium, setting down my notes and taking a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. As the minutes ticked by, more students filtered in. And then, as if on cue, there she was.

Sophia stood in the doorway, scanning the room. Her eyes landed on me, and for a split second, they softened with relief. She took a step toward me, and I felt that familiar mix of desire and dread swirl in my gut.

I couldn't do this. Not here. Not now.

I quickly turned my back, pretending to be engrossed in the notes on my laptop. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hesitate, her smile fading as she realized I was deliberately ignoring her.

Stay away, I silently pleaded. Don't come any closer.

But I knew Sophia too well. She wasn't the type to back down. Especially not when something was bothering her.

"Professor DeLuca," she said softly, her voice just loud enough for me to hear over the murmur of the class. "Can we talk after your lecture?"

I kept my eyes on my screen, feigning disinterest. "I'm busy. I have a meeting with the department head."

I could feel her frustration from across the room, but she didn't press. Not here. Not in front of the students. Instead, she turned and found a seat toward the back of the room, sitting quietly as the rest of the class filled in around her.

For the next hour, I went through the motions of my lecture. Words came out of my mouth, but I wasn't really hearing them. My mind was elsewhere, caught between the threat hanging over my head and the guilt gnawing at me for how I was treating her. Every time I looked up, I could feel Sophia's eyes on me, burning with questions I wasn't ready to answer.

When the lecture ended, I packed up my things quickly, avoiding eye contact as I made my way toward the door. But before I could slip out, Sophia caught up to me, her hand brushing against my arm.

"Lorenzo, wait."

I stopped, but didn't turn to face her.

"I don't know what's going on, but you've been avoiding me all week," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Did I do something wrong?"

I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm. "It's not you. I've just been... busy."

"Busy? That's the best excuse you've got?" She stepped closer, her hand lingering on my arm. "You're acting like I don't exist. Like what we have doesn't exist. And I'm not buying it. Is this about the email..."

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay distant. "I don't have time for this right now, Sophia. I told you, I have a meeting."

Her eyes flashed with hurt, and for a moment, I almost caved. I wanted to tell her everything—to explain why I was pushing her away. But I couldn't. Not when I didn't even know who was behind all of this.

"Fine," she said, pulling her hand away. "If you don't want to talk, I won't force you. But don't expect me to wait around forever."

I watched her walk away, her shoulders stiff, her posture tense. The urge to go after her was overwhelming, but I stayed rooted in place. I couldn't risk getting closer to her, not when I was still being watched.

As soon as she was out of sight, I exhaled shakily, running a hand through my hair. I needed to figure this out. And fast.

Before everything spiraled out of control.

Back in my office, I sat down at my desk, staring at the computer screen without really seeing it. My mind was racing, replaying every interaction from the past week, trying to piece together who could be behind this. Every student, every faculty member, even the janitor—any one of them could have seen us, could be holding this over my head.

The buzzing of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts. Another email.

My heart pounded as I opened it, my hands shaking.

"Still watching."

No message this time. Just a single attachment.

I opened it, and my blood ran cold.

It was another video—this one from outside the lecture hall. It showed Sophia walking toward me, her hand brushing against my arm, just like it had minutes ago.

They were still watching. They were always watching.

And I had no idea how to make it stop.