Days had passed and one late afternoon, Maya stood in the doorway of Professor Laird's office. She hadn't expected another summon. Not after she had begun picking herself back up, threading her focus back into her studies like a seamstress perching the delicate fabric of her academic future.
"Come in, Maya,' Professor Laird said with that ever patient voice, the one that held neither praise nor condemnation, just the careful balance of someone who had seen brilliance flare and falter in students far too many times.
She stepped inside, the door clicking closed behind her, and took a seat across from him, her eyes narrowing slightly in quiet anticipation.
"You've done well," he began, folding his hands on the desk. "I've noticed the shift."
Maya sat straighter, the words hitting her with both relief and wariness. "Thank you, sir. I've been trying."
"I know you have," he said, nodding. "And it's paying off. Your last paper was exceptional. A return to form."
A small smile curled her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. She knew there was more coming. There always was when someone eased you into good news.
"That's why I wanted to speak with you," he continued, leaning back slightly with a steady gaze. "About Logan Hayes."
Maya's breath stilled, the name igniting something dominant in her chest. Like a spark threatening to catch on dry kindling.
"Yes?" she asked, carefully and cautiously.
"I've been reviewing his recent evaluations. He has improved. More than improved. I'd say he's more than equipped now to handle the curriculum on his own. Your tutoring had done exactly what it was meant to do."
Her throat tightened.
"I'm going to discontinue the sessions," he said, gently but firmly. "Effective immediately."
Maya's heartbeat was too loud in her ears. "But he still enjoys the sessions. I mean, I do too. I think we work well-"
"I'm sure you do." Professor Laird said, not unkindly. "But you, Maya, you have a future to guard. You've found your stride again. And I believe its best that for now, you continue that momentum without distraction."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Distraction.
He didn't know. He couldn't know. But the word lodged like a stone in her throat because...he wasn't wrong.
Logan had become more than a flirtatious presence in her life. He had become a current running beneath her skin, unpredictable and powerful. And somewhere along the way, she had stopped resisting it.
Maya dropped her eyes to her lap. "Understood."
Professor Laird gave a brief, approving nod. "You've come a long way. Don't lose sight of that."
She left the office moments later, stepping into the quiet hallway with the fading echoes of footsteps and conversations. But everything now felt distant.
No more tutoring sessions.
No more rooftop hours drenched in tension and literary metaphors that disguised the truths they were too afraid to say aloud.
No more Logan.
Her heart was conflicted, tangled in a bittersweet ache. This was the right decision. She knew it. And yet, it didn't stop the small fissure from cracking wide open in her chest.
As she walked toward the exit, the wind lifted her hair in slow waves, she then pulled out her phone and stared at his name in her messages. Her thumbs hovering over it.
Then she sighed, turned the screen off and walked on.
But even as she stepped back into the world of quiet focus and academic order, her thoughts remained wild and tangled...like him.
And she realized some truths refused to be tutored away.
---
Later that evening, Maya stepped out of the cab as her heart beat with a heavy resolve.
This was just a conversation. A necessary goodbye. She was here to tell Logan gently, carefully that their tutoring sessions had come to an end. That she needed to focus even if they previously talked about it, she didn't think Logan thought that she was serious.
But as she neared the porch rail, his hair tousled like he had just run his fingers through it, his sleeves were rolled up and there was laughter in his posture.
But it wasn't the ease of his stance that struck her dumb.
It was the man standing in front of him.
Close. Too close.
Broad-shouldered. Familiar.
And then Logan kissed him.
A kiss that was not hesitant, or experimental. A kiss that was slow, practiced, almost reverent. A hand on the back of the man's neck, drawing him in deeper, as if the world didn't exist outside the porch-rail.
Maya blinked.
Her legs felt rooted to the ground, but her chest hollowed out in one jagged sweep.
The man pulled back smiling and turned.
Damian.
Her friend Damian.
Her classmate. The man who had pulled her from the path of an oncoming car. The one who bought her coffee and laughed too loudly at bad jokes.
Now standing there like he had always belonged in Logan's orbit.
She took a step back, unnoticed. Her breath caught hard in her throat.
Then another step.
Her shoes scraped lightly on the concrete, and Logan's head tilted like he might have heard it, might've felt her.
But she was already turning.
Running.
The cab was gone, but she didn't care. She ran until the burn in her lungs matched the fire in her chest, the slap of her shoes against pavement drowning out the storm of thoughts crashing through her skull.
---
The key shook in her hand as she shoved it into the lock. The door flew open.
"Maya?" Sienna's voice called from the kitchen, laced with worry. "Is that you? What's wrong?"
But Maya didn't answer.
She stumbled inside like she was breaking apart, the tears already slipping down her cheeks unchecked.
"Maya?" Sienna appeared around the corner, her favorite pink hairband slanted, with a spoon in one hand. Her eyes widened the moment she saw her face. "Oh my God. What happened?"
Still, Maya said nothing.
She moved hurriedly past the couch, and past Sienna's stunned stare into the safety of her bedroom.
The door shut softly. But the silence after it was deafening.
Sienna stood there frozen, spoon still in hand, the chocolate pudding now forgotten.
Inside the room, Maya pressed her back to the door and slid down slowly, her face crumpling as the dam finally broke. The sob came, sharp and strangling, and she pressed her hands to her mouth to muffle them.
Damian.
Logan.
Together.
The betrayal didn't just slice, it gutted.
No part of it made sense. No warning or any explanation could have prepared her for this.
Outside, Sienna knocked gently. "Maya...please talk to me. You're scaring me."
But Maya couldn't.
The pain was too fresh. The confusion too vast.