CHAPTER 9 — "THE CONFRONTATION"
Maya's voice cut through the room like a blade.
"Elias? Are you in there?"
Lena felt her pulse slam against her ribs. Elias went stiff, composed, defensive in a single breath—the transformation instant and painfully familiar. The warm man from seconds ago was gone; in his place stood the distant, guarded professor.
He cleared his throat before answering.
"Yes. One moment."
He glanced at Lena—the look quick, urgent.
"Hide the letter," he whispered.
She didn't argue. She slid it into her notebook, hands trembling.
Elias opened the door.
Maya stepped inside before she was invited.
She wasn't angry—she was worse.
She was suspicious.
Her gaze moved from Elias… to Lena… to the space between them.
"What's going on?" Maya asked, voice clipped.
"Nothing," Elias said too quickly.
"Right," Maya muttered. "Because you two look like you've seen a ghost."
Lena forced a breath. "We were just talking."
"Talking?" Maya repeated, eyes narrowing. "About what?"
Elias crossed his arms—a defensive gesture. "Is there a reason you came by?"
Maya ignored him.
Her gaze locked on Lena.
"You were supposed to meet me an hour ago."
"…I forgot," Lena admitted softly.
Maya's eyes flicked back to Elias, sharper than before.
"You forget *a lot* when you're around him."
---
## **The Pressure Rises**
Elias stepped in smoothly.
Protective.
Too protective.
"Whatever you're implying—stop," he said.
"I didn't imply anything."
Her voice was cold.
"Yet."
Lena felt something twist in her stomach.
Maya looked between them again—the silent tense air, the closeness, the flushed faces. She wasn't stupid.
"How long have you two been meeting alone?" she asked.
"Today is the first time," Elias replied.
"Why?"
His jaw clenched.
"Because she wanted to talk about her writing."
"That's it?" Maya asked.
"Yes," Elias said.
But his voice trembled just slightly.
Just enough.
Maya caught it.
"And why," she asked, stepping closer to him, "do you sound like you're lying?"
Elias inhaled sharply, losing his composure for the first time all morning.
"I'm not lying," he snapped.
Lena flinched.
Maya didn't.
"That wasn't an answer," she said.
---
## **Maya Pushes Too Far**
The temperature in the room changed.
Maya's eyes hardened—not cruel, but deeply protective.
"Elias," she said quietly, "she's vulnerable right now. She listens to you. She looks up to you. If you do anything to confuse her—"
"That's enough."
His voice was low, dangerous.
"Is it?" she demanded. "Because you two look like you were standing too close, talking too softly, way too tense for a normal conversation."
Lena stepped forward.
"Maya, stop."
"No," Maya said, hurt simmering beneath her anger. "You don't see it, Lena. You never see when someone has power over you."
Lena froze.
Maya regretted it instantly, but didn't take it back.
"You're smart," Maya said softly, "but when it comes to him, you're blind."
"I'm not," Lena whispered.
"You are," Maya insisted. "He was your teacher."
"Years ago."
"He's older."
"I don't care."
"He should."
Elias flinched.
It was quick, but Lena saw it—the line hitting exactly where he feared it would.
Maya pressed on, voice rising.
"He had a responsibility to keep things professional, and now look at this—closed doors, emotional tension, secrets—"
"This isn't what you think," Elias said sharply.
"Then what is it?"
His mouth opened, then closed.
He couldn't answer.
Not without telling the truth.
Not without lying.
Silence flooded the room.
Maya's expression changed slowly.
A dawning realization.
A quiet dread.
"Oh my god," she whispered.
"You do feel something."
---
## **Everything Breaks**
Elias's face tightened.
His jaw locked.
His breath hitched.
It was the smallest crack—
But it was enough.
Maya stepped back in horror, hand over her mouth.
"No," Lena said quickly, stepping forward. "It's not—"
"It *is*," Maya said.
"Lena… he's too old for you."
"Stop it."
"He's your mentor."
"He's not anymore."
"He should know better!"
"Then let *me* decide what I want!"
The words ripped from Lena's throat louder than she intended.
Maya stared at her.
At the letter-shaped bulge in her notebook.
At Elias's trembling hands.
At the space charged with unspoken truths.
Her voice broke.
"Lena… please. Don't do this to yourself."
Lena's heart cracked.
But she didn't step back.
Not this time.
"Maya," she said softly, painfully, "I'm not choosing him over you. I'm choosing myself over your fear."
Maya shook her head, backing toward the door.
"I can't watch this happen."
"Maya—"
"Call me when you're thinking clearly," she said, voice strained.
And then she left.
The door closed sharply.
The room fell silent.
---
## **The Emotional Collapse**
Lena stood shaking.
Elias's breath was uneven.
The world outside felt too real, too bright, too loud.
Finally, he spoke.
"I'm sorry."
She turned to him sharply.
"For what?"
"For everything."
She stared at him.
"Don't apologize for something you didn't do."
"I *did*," he whispered. "Maya is right."
"No," Lena said firmly. "She's scared. That doesn't make her right."
"You're twenty-four," he said again, voice breaking. "You shouldn't be fighting with your family because of me."
"It's not because of you," she said. "It's because she doesn't trust me to make my own choices."
He closed his eyes.
"Lena… this is getting dangerous."
"Why?"
"Because I'm starting to want what I shouldn't want."
Her breath caught.
"And if I said I want the same thing?"
His eyes flew open.
Pain and longing warred inside them.
"Don't," he breathed. "Please don't say that unless you're absolutely certain."
"I am," she said.
"Don't be," he whispered.
"But I am."
He clenched his jaw, torn between restraint and desire.
"You're going to ruin my self-control," he said, voice shaking.
"Maybe your self-control was already broken," she whispered.
His breath stilled.
He stepped closer—slowly, cautiously—but close enough that she could feel warmth radiating from him.
"I need time," he said softly. "To think. To breathe. To not lose myself."
She nodded, even though it hurt.
"And I need you not to disappear," she whispered.
He hesitated… then nodded back.
"I won't."
---
## **The Last Line They Hold**
He didn't touch her.
She didn't touch him.
But they stood close enough to feel the gravity pulling them together.
"We're not finished," he said quietly.
Her chest tightened with relief.
"No," she agreed. "We're not."
The distance between them was small—tiny—dangerous.
And yet, for now…
for this fragile moment…
It was still enough.