I needed to disappear.
Not forever—just long enough to figure out when exactly I'd started falling in love with a man who collected broken girls and called it education.
The realization had hit me like a freight train during Adrian's last lecture. Somewhere between analyzing the power dynamics in Jane Eyre and watching his hands move as he wrote on the board, it dawned on me that I wasn't just addicted to his touch anymore.
I was addicted to him. His voice, his presence, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room who mattered. And that terrified me more than anything Vaughn had said.
So I did what any rational twenty-two-year-old having a complete emotional breakdown would do: I packed a bag, turned off my phone, and ran home to the place that created half my issues in the first place.
Brilliant fucking strategy, Sophie.
By the time I reached my childhood home, I was wound tighter than a spring and probably radiating enough anxiety to power the entire neighborhood.
The moment I stepped through the front door, chaos hit me like a familiar slap.
"I TOLD YOU, ABBY, THAT SHIRT IS MINE!" Madison's voice shrieked from somewhere upstairs.
"NO IT'S NOT, YOU LEFT IT HERE FOR TWO DAYS!" Abby screamed back.
"BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP BEFORE I DONATE ALL YOUR CLOTHES TO GOODWILL!" Dad bellowed from the kitchen.
I dropped my overnight bag by the stairs, and for a moment, the familiar dysfunction felt like a relief. At least here, the chaos was predictable. No psychological mind games, no questions about submission and power—just good old-fashioned family insanity.
"Hi, Dad," I said, rubbing my temples.
He looked up from the kitchen table where he was surrounded by bills and what appeared to be the remnants of a ham sandwich.
His hair was sticking up at odd angles, and he had that particular look of exhaustion that came from single-handedly managing two teenage girls.
"Sophie." His face brightened slightly. "Didn't know you were coming home."
"Last-minute decision. I needed some perspective."
"On what?"
I almost laughed. How could I explain that I was falling for a man who might be systematically destroying my sense of self? That I couldn't tell the difference between love and psychological manipulation anymore?
"Life stuff," I said instead.
The rest of the day dissolved into familiar patterns. Madison and Abby fought over everything from hair straighteners to leftover pizza. Dad tried to mediate while simultaneously fixing our ancient toaster and burning dinner.
And I sat in the middle of it all, trying to remember who I was before Adrian Lewis walked into my life and rewired my entire understanding of desire.
By 9 PM, I was curled up on our ancient couch, finally feeling like I could breathe again. Maybe distance was what I needed. Maybe space would help me figure out if what I felt for Adrian was real or just some kind of Stockholm syndrome with better orgasms.
I was just starting to doze off when Abby appeared in the living room doorway.
"Sophie?" Her voice was small, uncertain. "There's a car in the driveway."
I blinked, pulling myself back to consciousness. "Okay..?"
"A man is standing outside. Like, just staring at our front door. It's weird."
Every nerve in my body went on high alert. "What?"
I shot off the couch and rushed to the front window, pulling back the faded curtains.
And felt my entire world tilt off its axis.
Adrian.
Standing in my family's driveway like he had every right to be there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, staring at my childhood home with that same intensity he brought to everything else.
"What the hell..." I whispered, my breath fogging the glass.
"Sophie?" Dad's voice came from behind me. "What's going on? Abby said there's some guy outside."
I turned, my heart hammering against my ribs. "It's... it's my professor."
"Your professor?" Dad's eyebrows shot up. "At nine-thirty at night?"
I couldn't exactly explain the situation, so I grabbed my shoes. "I'll go talk to him."
"Like hell you will." Dad's voice sharpened. "If some teacher is stalking my daughter—"
"He's not stalking me," I said quickly. "It's complicated."
Dad studied my face, and I could see him cataloging every tell—the flush in my cheeks, the tremor in my hands.
"Sophie," he said quietly. "Is everything okay?"
The concern in his voice almost broke me. "I don't know, Dad. I really don't know."
I stepped outside, the cold night air slapping me in the face. Adrian's gaze locked on mine the moment I stepped onto the porch.
"Sophie," he said, his voice carefully controlled. “What are you doing here?”
I stared at him, confused. “I’m visiting my family. What are you doing here?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.
I looked around, half-hoping this was a dream. “Anyways, I needed space. I needed to think."
"About what?" He stepped closer, and I could see the tension in his shoulders.
Silence fell heavy between us. He wasn’t touching me, didn’t raise his voice, but the way he looked at me, like I was something he cared about, made my skin crawl and tingle all at once.
No, I couldn’t fall for that. Couldn’t make things even more complicated, couldn’t let him make a fool of him, couldn’t fall… Couldn’t fall even harder.
“You drove all the way here just to ask me that?” I raised my eyebrow, trying to look more indifferent than I actually felt. I thought it was you who said this wasn’t about feelings. You said you didn’t make a commitment.”
“I don’t,” he said.
“Then why are you here?” I demanded. “Showing up to my house like…”
“Like what?” His voice dropped.
I stared at him, trying to find words for the confusion swirling in my chest. "Like someone who has a right to track me down when I need space. Like someone who..." I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
"Finish the sentence, Sophie."
Good old orders, typical Adrian.
"Like someone who cares about more than just having access to my body," I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Adrian's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I told you from the beginning what this was. What I could offer."
"I know." I wrapped my arms tighter around myself against the cold. "But showing up at my family home at nine-thirty at night doesn't exactly scream 'casual arrangement,' does it?"
He was quiet for a long moment, studying my face in the porch light. "You disappeared without a word. You turned off your phone. That's not like you."
"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do. And you also showed up here tonight, which suggests maybe you don't know yourself either."
His hands clenched at his sides. "I came here because…" He stopped, seeming to reconsider his words. "Because I protect what's mine. That includes making sure you're safe when you disappear."
"Protect what's yours," I repeated softly. "Not who. What."
"Sophie."
"No, it's okay." I stepped back toward the door. "At least you're honest about how you see me. That makes this easier. And now, if you excuse me, I'd like to get back to my family."
Adrian's jaw muscles twitched, but he said nothing—just nodded briefly.
Then turned and walked back to his car without another word, leaving me standing on my childhood porch with the terrible knowledge that walking away from him might be the hardest thing I'd ever done.