Chapter 90 LITTLE GIRL.
\~~~SERENA.
The bell rang, sharply, cutting through the hum of Professor Gwendolyn's voice as she wrapped up her lecture on constitutional law. I gathered my notebook and pens, stuffing them into my backpack with a sigh of relief. The classroom emptied quickly, students chattering about weekend plans and cramming sessions. Maya shot me a wide grin from across the aisle, her dark curls bouncing as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
We stepped out into the hallway together, the cool air from the open windows brushing against my skin. It felt good to be free, even if just for a few hours. The class had ended fifteen minutes early and Gwendolyn had seemed distracted, her eyes flicking to the clock more than once.
“I can’t wait for this to be over,” I said, linking my arm with Maya's as we walked toward the exit. The campus corridors were alive with footsteps and laughter, sunlight streaming through the tall windows in golden patches on the tiled floor.
“Me too,” I added, grinning and dragging out the words a little longer than needed. It was one of those moments where everything felt light, like the stress of exams and papers was finally cracking under the pressure of spring.
We had just wrapped up a group discussion about life after graduation, jobs, grad school, and the big unknown. It was the kind of talk that made my stomach twist with excitement and nerves. “It all ends next month. Good luck with our exams in advance,” I said, bumping Maya's shoulder playfully.
“Amen!” Maya exclaimed, throwing her head back in mock prayer. Her laughter echoed off the walls, drawing a few smiles from passing students. Maya had this way of making everything seem less daunting, like we were in it together against the world.
“We’re going home first, right? Should we get food before we head back?” I asked, my stomach rumbling at the thought. The cafeteria sandwiches were calling my name, or maybe that little food truck outside with the spicy tacos.
“Yes, yes. You said your husband won’t be picking you up till evening, right?” Maya replied, adjusting her bag strap.
“Yeah, after he leaves work, so we’ve got time.” Damien had texted me earlier, saying he’d be tied up with meetings but would swing by around six. It gave me a few hours of freedom, time to unwind with my best friend before the evening routine kicked in.
We linked arms tighter, our steps syncing as we pushed through the double doors into the open courtyard.
We were halfway across the quad, weaving through clusters of students lounging on the benches, when I heard my name. “Serena!”
It sliced through the noise like a cold wind. Maya and I stopped, our arms still linked. I turned slowly, a knot forming in my gut. There, striding toward us with that poised, and predatory grace, was Professor Gwendolyn Forbes.
Her heels clicked against the pavement, echoing like accusations. She wore a tailored gray suit that hugged her figure, her hair neatly pulled into a severe bun.
I’d never stop thinking about how at forty-one, she looked every bit the powerful judge she'd been in the UK, unyielding, with eyes that could dissect you in seconds.
I breathed out, forcing my shoulders to relax. Curious stares turned our way.
I ignored them, focusing on the woman approaching. Why now? What again?
“What could she want?” Maya muttered through clenched teeth, her voice low enough for only me to hear.
“I have no idea,” I whispered back, my heart picking up speed.
Gwendolyn stopped a few feet away, her smile thin and laced with something darker. “Little Mrs. Hale,” she said, the words dripping with mockery. It wasn't a greeting. It was a jab, reducing me to Damien's shadow.
“Ms. Forbes,” I replied evenly, meeting her gaze. I wouldn't let her see me flinch.
She tilted her head, appraising me like a specimen under glass. “I almost didn’t recognize you. Your look at the party two days ago is still instilled in my head. You looked like a doll. Befitting for a man like him.”
Her tone twisted the compliment into an insult, implying I was some pretty accessory for Damien. Heat rose in my cheeks, but I swallowed it down.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume we’ve got some issue, professor,” I said, forcing a smile of my own. I raised my shoulders slightly, refusing to cower. Maya squeezed my arm in silent support.
Gwendolyn's eyes narrowed, but her smile held. “And what issue would I possibly have with a baby like you?”
“Right? I wouldn’t want to think that you’re bullying me on purpose.” The words slipped out bolder than I felt, but standing there, with Maya by my side and the sun warming my face, I wasn't backing down.
“Haven’t you got some nerves, little girl?” she shot back, her voice sharpening.
“My name is Serena, and I’d rather you address me as such, Ms. Forbes.”
“And what would you do, little girl?” She raised a brow, daring me to push further.
“Serena, Ms. Forbes.” I held her stare, my pulse thundering in my ears.
“Little girl,” she said, smiling even wider, the mockery turning cruel.
I felt Maya's grip tighten on my arm, a warning to drop it, and to walk away. But something snapped inside me, the weeks of suspicious glances in class, the probing questions about my marriage, the way she hovered like a shadow from Damien's past.
This woman was more than just friends with Damien, but we’re not ready for that conversation yet.
Perhaps, she was a foe, still is, but the way. But, they are not friends.
“Old woman,” I blurted, the words escaping before I could stop them.
“What?” Gwendolyn’s brows snapped together, her composure cracking for the first time.
“Old woman,” I repeated, quieter but firmer. It was petty, I knew, but it felt like reclaiming some ground.
Her face clouded with anger, cheeks flushing under the makeup. “Have you any idea whom you’re speaking to?”
“Certainly.” My voice didn't waver, even as fear prickled my skin.
“And you dare…” She closed the space between us in two strides, her perfume, sharp and floral, invading my space. Her hand twitched like she might grab me, her eyes blazing with fury.
But before she could finish, a strong grip wrapped around my wrist, firm but gentle, pulling me back. I stumbled slightly, my body colliding with a solid, rock-like chest. The familiar scent of his cologne, woodsy and clean, washed over me, grounded me instantly that I nearly closed my eyes to revel in it.
I twisted to look up, my brows furrowing in surprise. There he was, Damien, his jaw set like stone, dark eyes locked not on me, but on Gwendolyn. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, tie slightly askew from a long day, but he exuded that quiet power that always made my knees weak.
“Damien!” I exclaimed, relief flooding through me.
“Moonlight,” he growled, his voice low and possessive. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me closer to his side. His gaze never left Gwendolyn, and I could feel a storm brewing in those depths, protective, furious, and ready to unleash.