(Callum)
By the end of the week, I was exhausted.
Not physically but at least not entirely.
The exhaustion came from constantly policing my own thoughts, constantly reminding myself where the line was, constantly forcing myself to maintain a distance that became harder every day instead of easier.
I had spent weeks avoiding Clara whenever possible.
Weeks treating her exactly the way I treated every other student.
Weeks convincing myself that professionalism would solve the problem.
It hadn’t.
If anything, it had made everything worse.
Because distance wasn’t killing the feelings.
Distance was simply giving me more time to think about them.
I was reviewing project proposals in my office when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” I stated without looking up from the stack of pa
