My Teacher and I

Chapter Twenty

As I walked over to Mathew, I could already feel the tension radiating from him. His expression was a mixture of frustration and something deeper, something darker. I barely had time to open my mouth before he launched into a flurry of questions.

"Who was that guy?" Mathew demanded; his voice low but seething. "Why was he hugging you? Why were you both walking out of the cinema together?"

I blinked, trying to find the words, but Mathew didn't give me a chance to respond. He kept rambling, the jealousy clear in his voice as he paced in front of me. "Do you always just let random guys take you out now? Is this what we are now? Just nothing?"

I tried to speak, but it felt like my words were caught in my throat. It was all so overwhelming. His possessiveness, his anger—it was suffocating.

"Mathew, just listen—" I started, but he cut me off, pacing even more.

"I can't believe you'd move on so fast. After everything between us, after what we shared—" His voice faltered for a moment, his frustration getting the better of him.

Feeling like I was getting nowhere, I sighed and turned to walk away, figuring it wasn't worth the argument right now. But before I could take more than a few steps, Mathew grabbed my arm, pulling me back to him with a firm grip.

I gasped as my back hit the side of his car, and before I could process what was happening, Mathew's lips were on mine, rough and possessive. His kiss was filled with all the emotion he couldn't put into words—the jealousy, the desire, the hurt. I should have pushed him away, but instead, I found myself leaning into him, my hands instinctively gripping his shirt as the kiss deepened.

The roughness faded, turning into something more passionate, more intense. His hands cupped my face, and I could feel the heat between us rising, but this time it wasn't just about lust or anger. There was something else, something raw and vulnerable.

My heart raced, but I kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring out everything I'd been holding in, everything I hadn't said. The weeks of silence, the unresolved tension between us, it all came crashing down in that one kiss.

We finally broke apart, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other. I could still feel his possessive grip on me, but now there was something softer in his eyes, like he was waiting for me to say something, to acknowledge what just happened.

But I didn't know what to say. My mind was spinning, and all I could feel was the pounding of my heart, the lingering heat between us.

"Atticus..." Mathew finally murmured, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable.

I stared into Mathew's eyes, my heart pounding with everything I needed to say.

"Mathew... I need to tell you something," I began, trying to keep my voice steady. "I've been holding this in for so long, and it's been eating me up inside. I... I love you."

Mathew's eyes widened, and I could see a flicker of something I couldn't quite read in his expression. But I couldn't stop now.

"This waiting, the distance, it's too much. I love you, and I don't know how to deal with it. Every day at school, seeing you, being in your class... it's so hard. I thought maybe if I tried to move on, I could forget about these feelings, but it didn't work. I can't stop feeling like this. And I know we can't be together because you're my teacher and I'm your student, but it doesn't stop the hurt."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to continue. "I get it if you don't feel the same way, but please... if we can't be together, don't stop me from moving on. It's hard enough as it is."

There was a heavy silence between us for a moment. My heart was racing, waiting for him to say something. And then, quietly, he whispered, "Atticus, I care about you too. More than you know."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. He stepped closer, his voice soft but sincere. "I've been trying to do the right thing, to keep my distance, but the truth is, I care about you deeply."

He reached out, gently brushing a hand against my cheek, and my heart seemed to stop for a moment. It wasn't the heated, conflicted energy that had been there before—this time, it was calm, real, and honest.

"We have to be careful," he said softly. "But I don't want you to think I don't care. I do. I just don't want to hurt you, and I want to make sure we handle this the right way."

The warmth in his words, the gentleness in his touch—it was enough for now. It wasn't perfect, but it was real, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of relief.