My Lover Is My Teacher (ON GOING)

Kardelen

​"Mom? Hurry up, please," Kardelen urged, her small hands tugging at my dress. "It's not good to be late."

​"Yes, honey. I'm almost done," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. My heart was thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs-a mix of nerves and dread. "Could you grab my keys from the vanity?"

​Kardelen scurried into my room and handed them to me with a solemn expression. "Dada gets grumpy when we're late. And I don't want Dada to get grumpy."

​I forced a smile and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her cheek a gentle pinch. "We won't be late, I promise."

​I grabbed my clutch, checked my reflection one last time-the woman in the mirror looked composed, a far cry from the shattered girl who had left ten years ago-and headed downstairs.

​My father was waiting by the curb, his eyes checking his watch.

​"DADA!" Kardelen shrieked, bolting past me to wrap herself around his legs.

​He scooped her up, his stern face melting into that soft, grandfatherly expression I hadn't seen for years. "Are you excited to go home, little one?"

​She beamed, her eyes sparkling. "I can't wait to see Papa Grae again! I miss all of our games!"

​My father's gaze shifted to me over Kardelen's shoulder. He didn't smile. He just helped me load the last of the trollies into the trunk, his movements mechanical. "Are you ready to go home, Venus?"

​I looked at the house we were leaving behind-the life I had built to escape my past-and let out a long, shaky breath. "Nope. But I know I need to."

​Ten years.

​It felt like a lifetime since the night of the rain, the hospital, the resignation, and the terrified girl who had run away from everything. I had been a "dumbass bitch," as I liked to call my younger self-a girl who thrived on chaos and hid behind lies. But time, distance, and the responsibility of raising Kardelen had sanded down my sharp edges.

​I slid into the driver's seat, the leather cold beneath my fingers. As I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the airport, the radio hummed with a soft melody, but my mind was stuck in the past.

​I was heading back to the place where I had lost everything and gained the only thing that mattered. Back to the city that held the memories of a teacher I had tried to forget and a love that had never truly stopped haunting me.

​Back to where everything started.

​I'm coming home.