Tempted by Destruction

5) A Mistake To Forget

Juliette

The days since that moment in Matteo's office felt like a blur. I tried to focus on anything but him, but no matter what I did, the memory of that kiss lingered. His cold demeanor, the way he pulled back, it all haunted me. I shouldn't care. It was just one mistake. But here I was, on my way to his class, heart pounding in my chest like it was the first day of school all over again.

I entered the classroom, my eyes scanning the familiar rows of desks and the large windows that let in soft light. Matteo was already there, standing by his desk with a stack of papers in hand, his expression unreadable. It was like nothing had happened. Like that moment between us in his office had been wiped from his memory.

I slid into my seat, hoping I could get through the class without making a fool of myself. As the minutes ticked by, I focused on my notes, barely lifting my eyes from the page. Matteo lectured like normal—his voice steady, the content as dry as ever. There was no hint of the tension that had been there before. He was cold, detached, almost like a stranger.

It stung.

When class finally ended, everyone rushed to pack up their things and leave. I moved slowly, hoping to slip out unnoticed, but as I stood to leave, Matteo's voice cut through the room.

"Ms. Sinclair, stay for a few minutes."

I froze, my heart racing. A couple of students turned their heads, curious, but I could feel Olivia's eyes on me before I saw her. Olivia, the school's reigning queen of pettiness, smirked as she walked past me, brushing against my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble. "Oops," she said with a fake sweetness, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

I straightened up and ignored her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. As the last student exited the room, I slowly made my way down the stairs to Matteo. Each step felt heavier than the last.

When I reached him, he was still standing by his desk, his eyes cold and distant, just like before. He didn't say anything right away, just looked at me, and the silence between us felt unbearable. I wanted to say something, to break the ice, but the weight of his stare kept me silent.

Finally, he spoke, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "We need to talk about what happened."

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "Okay," I said quietly, bracing myself for whatever he was about to say.

"It was a mistake," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "It can't happen again, and I need you to understand that."

I nodded, trying to ignore the sting of his words. "I understand."

For a moment, there was only silence. He shifted slightly, as if he was struggling to find the right words. "I don't want this to affect your work, Ms. Sinclair. That's all this is—work. You need to stay focused."

His tone was dismissive, almost condescending, and it made my skin prickle with anger. But I bit my tongue, nodding again. "It won't. I'll keep things professional."

"Good." His eyes flicked over me for a second, but there was no warmth in them. No hint of the man from a few nights ago.

The silence stretched on again, awkward and heavy. I shifted on my feet, unsure of what to do next. Should I leave? Say something?

Matteo turned away, gathering his things, signaling the conversation was over. "You can go now."

I stood there for a moment longer, feeling small and insignificant, but I forced myself to move. Without another word, I turned and headed for the door. My stomach churned with a mixture of frustration and something else I couldn't quite name.

As I stepped out into the hallway, the coldness of the encounter stayed with me. But one thing was clear—whatever had happened between us was now locked away, forgotten. Or at least, that's what Matteo wanted.

Too bad it wasn't that easy for me.