Chapter 5

Kelly was paying the price for her momentary lapse in judgment. Over the next few days, she felt like a shell of herself, as if someone else had taken over her body. She hadn’t even graduated college yet; there was no way she could keep the baby. But she was too afraid to tell her parents. She would need their consent for an abortion, and time to recover afterward. If anyone at school found out, her academic future would be ruined.

For the first time in her life, she felt a fear so profound it paralyzed her. Even Melissa noticed something was wrong. “What’s going on, Kelly?” she asked. Kelly’s face had been pale for days, her mind scattered.

Kelly shook her head weakly. “I’m fine.”

She was anything but.

“If something’s going on, tell me. We’ll figure it out together.” Melissa hesitated, then asked, “Is this about Jude?”

Jude was a distant memory. Melissa was still a student, and Kelly didn't want to worry her. She forced a smile. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry.”

Melissa didn't press. “We have Professor Butler’s class later. Let’s head over early to snag the best seats.”

Kelly hesitated. “Can I… maybe skip class today?”

“No can do. You know how strict Professor Butler is. He takes attendance every single class—honestly, it’s overkill. No one dares skip his lectures.”

Kelly was about to be the first, but lacked the courage. She hadn’t missed a class in two years, and now that Leon knew who she was, having Melissa sign her in would be disastrous.

Melissa dragged her to the lecture hall. They secured front-row seats.

“Why don’t we sit in the back, Melissa? There are still seats there,” Kelly suggested.

“No way! This spot is perfect.” Melissa settled in. “We’ll get to enjoy Professor Butler’s good looks up close!”

Kelly considered slipping to the back, but all the seats were taken. She had no choice but to stay.

The bell rang. Kelly hid behind Melissa, trying to become invisible.

Leon arrived—tall, sharp, perfectly composed. His beige trench coat gave him a high-fashion air. His striking features radiated calm serenity.

The room silenced as he reached the podium. He scanned the students before announcing, “Let’s begin.”

This time, Kelly focused, diligently taking notes. Unconsciously, her eyes followed his every move.

Leon was the most charismatic person she’d ever met; he possessed a quiet strength, refined and compelling. He didn’t just teach; he explained complex ideas with ease and clarity. The class hung on his every word.

Kelly became completely absorbed. Their eyes met, and she quickly looked away.

Suddenly, she wondered how Leon would react to knowing she was pregnant—he was the father. Should she tell him?

Torn, she bit her lip. She didn’t want to be tied to him any more than she already was.

The bell rang. Leon concluded his presentation. “That’s all for today. Any questions?”

“I have a question, Professor Butler!”

“Me too!”

Students surrounded Leon. As he answered their questions, his eyes flicked toward the front row. Kelly was already halfway to the door, fleeing.

This wasn’t the first time. They’d crossed paths twice that week. Each time, she’d fled at the sight of him. Her avoidance was obvious.

He’d checked her file: 21 years old, perfect attendance for two years, consistently in the top ten of her class, a scholarship recipient every year. A model student.

He lowered his gaze, returning his attention to the students.

Kelly rarely went home on weekends, but feeling unsettled, she returned on Friday evening. The aroma of stir-fried food greeted her. She heard her mother’s voice from the kitchen. “Is that you, Jackson? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Kelly set down her backpack. “Mom, it’s me.”

Helena turned, spatula in hand, and froze. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s the weekend,” Kelly explained.

Helena frowned. “You should’ve told me. I didn’t prepare dinner for you.”

“I told you yesterday.”

“Did you?” Helena dismissed her. “Well, I must have forgotten. You’re hardly ever home anyway.”

Kelly fell silent. Melissa’s parents always called before the weekend. In her own home, she felt insignificant.

“Don’t just stand there! Set the table. And call your dad; ask him to bring home some pasta.”

“Oh, okay.” Kelly washed her hands, set the table, and called her father, William Valencia.

William arrived with takeout pasta. He kicked off his shoes and grumbled, “You should’ve told me you were coming home! Pasta’s expensive these days. This stupid box cost four dollars… We could’ve bought burgers for the whole family with that!”

“Everything’s getting more expensive, but your salary isn’t going anywhere. We’re barely making ends meet!” Helena snatched the box. “Why did you pay for a box? Use the plastic bags next time!”