Vivian sat on the edge of Ethan’s couch, her hands resting on her lap, clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. The air in the apartment was thick with tension, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on both of them.
Ethan stood a few feet away, watching her carefully, his jaw tight. He had expected her to run after what happened last night, to send him a message saying they had crossed a line and it would never happen again. But she was here. And that meant something.
“Why did you come?” Ethan asked, his voice low and controlled, though his heart pounded against his ribs.
Vivian inhaled deeply, struggling to find an answer that made sense. She had tried to fight this attraction, tried to remind herself that she was the teacher, and he was the student. But with every encounter
