Please Harder, Professor

Chapter 219

Bellamy’s POV

Everything happens in slow motion and too fast at the same time.

Sophie's foot slips. Her eyes go wide. She's falling backward into the ravine—the deep one that drops twenty feet into rocks and water.

I lunge forward. "Sophie!"

She manages to grab a snag—a tree root jutting from the edge—at the last moment before plummeting deeper into the ditch. Her fingers wrap around it desperately, but her grip is slipping.

I throw myself to the ground, reaching down. My hand closes around her wrist just as her fingers start to slide off the root.

"I've got you," I say. "Hold on."

I pull, haul her up and over the edge. Safely on solid ground, I hold her close, this wretched, trembling woman in my arms.

She's shaking—fear or tears or both. Her hands are fisted in my shirt, her face pressed against my chest.

"You're okay," I murmur, one hand cradling her head, the other secure around her waist. "You're safe. I've got you."

I hold her securely yet tenderly, aware this might be the only time she lets me. In a moment, she'll remember she hates me. But for now, for these few seconds, she's letting me hold her.

Noah appears at my side, his face pale. "Is Miss Sophie okay?"

"She's fine, buddy. Just had a scare."

Sophie's breathing starts to even out. I feel the moment the shock begins to fade, feel her body go rigid in my arms as awareness returns.

She shoves me. Hard.

I let her go immediately, hands up, giving her space as she scrambles to her feet and puts several steps between us.

"Don't," she says, her voice shaking with emotion. "Don't you dare act like you saved me. Don't you dare pretend you care."

"Sophie…"

"No!" Her hands are clenched into fists at her sides. "I almost died because of you! Because you dragged me out here! Because you…" Her voice breaks. "I hate you. Do you understand that? I hate you."

I say nothing. What can I say?

"You've ruined my life. You took me from the most important day of my life, from my family, from everything that mattered."

She continues, the words pouring out.

"You're selfish and terrible and you're making everyone miserable—me, Adrian, Amelia, my family. And for what? So you can play house? So you can pretend we're some happy family?"

She laughs, bitter and broken.

"We'll never be a family, Bellamy. Never. You can lock me in that cabin for years and it won't change anything. I will always hate you for this."

I can only remain silent, allowing her to speak out. Letting her rage because what else can I do?

She doesn't understand yet, doesn't understand my motivations, my logic, why I had to do this. But she will. Sophie is smart—brilliantly, devastatingly smart. It's one of the things I fell in love with her for. She'll figure it out eventually.

"Are you done?" I ask quietly when she finally runs out of words.

Her eyes flash. "Go to hell."

"Fair enough."

She turns and walks away. Not deeper into the forest like I half-expected, but back toward the cabin. The surprising practicality of it would make me smile if the situation weren't so fucked.

I glance down at Noah, who's watching everything with wide, confused eyes.

"Come on, buddy," I say, taking his small hand in mine. "Let's head back."

We follow Sophie at a distance. She doesn't look back once, just marches through the trees with her spine straight and her shoulders set. Angry and beautiful and so far beyond my reach it physically hurts.

Inside the house, Sophie goes straight upstairs. A moment later, I hear the bedroom door slam and the lock click into place.

Noah tugs on my hand. "Why is Miss Sophie mad at you?"

"It's complicated, buddy."

"Did you do something bad?"

Yes. "Adults sometimes disagree about things."

"But she seems really mad. Like, really really mad."

"I know." I crouch down to his level. "Hey, how about we make dinner? You can help me cook. Would you like that?"

His face brightens slightly. "Can we make spaghetti?"

"Absolutely."

I try to distract him in the kitchen. Boil water. Brown the meat. Noah chatters about the forest, the pinecone, hide and seek.

Then he goes quiet. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Is Miss Sophie upset because little Mimi isn't coming?"

The spoon freezes in my hand. Noah, my curious and observant boy, has hit the nail right on the head.

"What makes you say that?" I manage, not quite answering.

"Because she started crying when I asked about Mimi. And she said something about her daughter." He looks up at me with those earnest blue eyes. "Is Mimi okay? Did Miss Sophie cry because Mimi isn’t okay?"

"No," I say carefully. "Mimi—Amelia—is totally fine."

"Where is she?"

"She's... with her grandmother. Being taken care of."

"But Miss Sophie misses her?"

"Yes. Very much."

"Then why can't Mimi come here? We have extra rooms. She could play with us. Miss Sophie would be happy then."

If only it were that simple.

"It's complicated," I say again, hating how inadequate the words sound.

I finish plating the food and hand Noah a smaller portion. "Can you do me a favor? Take this up to Miss Sophie's room. Knock on the door and leave it outside for her, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy."

He carries the plate carefully up the stairs. I hear his small knock, his muffled "Miss Sophie? I brought you dinner," and then his footsteps coming back down.

"She didn't open the door," he reports.

"That's okay. She'll eat when she's ready."

After Noah goes to bed—after I read him three stories and promise him we can explore more of the forest tomorrow—I sit alone at the kitchen table with a beer I'm not drinking.

Noah's question won't leave my mind: Is Miss Sophie upset because little Mimi isn't coming?

Something very much like guilt begins to well up inside me—heavy and uncomfortable, sitting in my chest like a stone.

I really did take a mother from her child. Not just a bride from her groom—though that's bad enough. Adrian would survive losing Sophie. He'd be devastated, furious, probably homicidal, but he'd survive.

But Amelia, a baby who doesn't understand where her mother went? And Sophie, separated from her daughter?

I would have survived losing Sophie to Adrian. It would have destroyed me, but I would have survived. But if someone had taken Noah from me...

The thought makes my blood run cold. After Olivia died, Noah was the only thing keeping me alive. The only thing that mattered. If someone had taken him too—if I'd lost them both—

Olivia was enough to break me. Losing Noah would have finished the job.

I push the thoughts aside forcefully. Shove them down where they can't reach me.

My situation is completely different. Completely. Sophie will understand eventually. She has to.

And Amelia's separation from Sophie is only temporary—a few weeks, maybe a month. Long enough for Sophie to see what I'm offering, to understand that we could be good together. That I can give her everything Adrian can't.

Then we'll go back. We'll figure out the custody arrangement. Sophie will still be Amelia's mother. Everything will work out.

It has to.

I take a sip of the beer. It's warm now, bitter on my tongue.

Upstairs, I hear floorboards creak. Sophie moving around in her room. Awake, probably crying.

The guilt twists deeper, but I force it down again.

This is the only way. The only path forward where I don't lose her completely.

I just have to hold on long enough for Sophie to see that too.