Forbidden Pages

Chapter 7: Crossing Paths

Emma spent the weekend trying to put her feelings about Ryland into perspective. She'd been so close to crossing a line, and even though they'd agreed to distance themselves, she couldn't shake the memory of his gaze, the quiet intensity of his words. Every time she thought of him, a strange mixture of regret and anticipation settled over her, leaving her restless and unsure of what to do next.

On Monday morning, she told herself she'd put all thoughts of Ryland aside. She had assignments to focus on, exams looming closer, and a heavy reading list that demanded her attention. But even as she buried herself in work, she felt his presence lingering in the back of her mind, like a secret she couldn't quite let go of.

She was halfway through an essay in the library when she glanced up to find him at the far end of the aisle. He was standing by a bookshelf, flipping through a book, his attention fully absorbed. Her heart leaped, but she forced herself to look back down, pretending she hadn't noticed him.

But even as she tried to focus, her gaze kept drifting back to him. She could see the faint furrow in his brow as he read, the way he occasionally pushed his hair back as he scanned the pages. She'd always thought he had a quiet, almost unassuming way about him, but now, every movement felt charged, each small gesture amplified by the tension that simmered between them.

After a few minutes, she realized she was just staring at her screen, completely unable to focus. She took a deep breath, gathering her things and slipping quietly out of her seat. She wasn't about to approach him—not here, not when they'd both agreed to keep things professional. But she also couldn't sit there any longer, watching him and pretending she wasn't affected.

As she made her way toward the exit, she felt a pang of regret, wishing that things could have been different. She'd never expected to feel this way about a professor, to feel so drawn to someone she shouldn't be involved with. And as much as she wanted to ignore it, the pull between them seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

Outside the library, she took a deep breath, feeling the cool autumn air wash over her. She told herself it was over, that she'd done the right thing by leaving. But even as she walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that their paths would cross again—and that when they did, she wouldn't be able to keep her distance.

Later That Week

By Thursday, Emma's resolve was wearing thin. Every time she entered a classroom, the library, or the hallways, she felt her attention wandering, her mind searching for him even though she told herself she shouldn't. She'd always thought she was good at compartmentalizing, at focusing on her goals and ignoring distractions. But Ryland wasn't just a distraction—he was a force that seemed to linger in her mind, drawing her in despite every warning she gave herself.

That evening, after an exhausting study session, she decided to take a walk around campus. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the quad, and the air had a chill that hinted at winter's approach. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, savoring the quiet, the feeling of solitude.

But as she rounded the corner near the faculty offices, she nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction.

"Oh—sorry, I didn't see—" she began, stopping mid-sentence as she looked up and saw who it was.

Ryland stood before her, his expression just as surprised as hers. He was carrying a stack of papers, his jacket slightly open, and for a moment, he looked more vulnerable, more approachable than she'd ever seen him.

"Emma," he said, his voice soft. There was a slight hesitation, as if he hadn't expected to see her here, either.

"Professor Monroe," she replied, keeping her tone neutral, though her heart was racing. She felt her cheeks warm, and she cursed herself for being so transparent. She wanted to look composed, unaffected, but the way his gaze softened as he looked at her made it impossible to hide.

They stood in silence for a moment, the quiet settling around them like a veil. Emma wasn't sure what to say, or even if she should say anything at all. But she could feel the tension between them building, an invisible thread that seemed to draw them closer even as they both tried to keep their distance.

Finally, Ryland broke the silence. "Emma, I... didn't expect to see you here." His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, and she felt her resolve weakening.

"I just needed a break from studying," she replied, keeping her voice light. "And I guess you did, too?"

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Something like that."

They stood there for a moment longer, neither one moving. Emma felt as though the world had shrunk to this one spot, to the space between them. She wanted to say something, to break the tension, but the words wouldn't come. And then, almost without thinking, she took a step closer.

Ryland didn't pull away. Instead, he met her gaze, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and something else—something she'd only glimpsed before, but that now seemed impossible to ignore.

"Emma," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "We... shouldn't."

She nodded, her heart pounding. "I know."

But even as she said the words, she could feel herself leaning closer, drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain. Every warning, every doubt, every thought of consequence faded as she met his gaze, the world around them slipping away until there was nothing left but the two of them.

In that moment, everything felt inevitable. She didn't care about the rules, or the risks, or the boundaries they'd set. All she knew was that she wanted him, and that he wanted her, and that nothing else mattered.

And then, just as she felt his breath warm on her skin, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Ryland stepped back, breaking the spell, his expression shifting from longing to regret.

"We can't," he said, his voice tight. "Not here."

Emma's heart sank, but she forced herself to nod. She knew he was right. But even as she took a step back, she could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on her as though he couldn't quite bring himself to look away.

"Goodnight, Professor," she whispered, her voice barely steady.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight, Emma."

As she walked away, Emma felt a strange mixture of frustration and relief. She knew they'd done the right thing by keeping their distance, but a part of her couldn't help but wish that things had gone differently. She wanted to let go of the feelings that tied her to him, to move on and leave this chapter behind. But she knew, deep down, that she wasn't ready to let go—not yet.

And as she made her way back to her dorm, her mind was already racing with questions, with possibilities, with the unshakeable feeling that this wasn't the end.

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Emma's heart is leading her into the unknown. Can she handle what lies ahead?