Chapter 9
Prof Anthony's POV
The incident in my classroom, where I had witnessed Paige fighting with Daisy and Ethan, had left a bitter taste in my mouth. It was a display of aggression and pettiness that I couldn't ignore. Daisy, the one who had captured my heart, had been the target of Paige's cruelty, and it filled me with anger and frustration.
As I stood at the front of the classroom, I had a clear view of the confrontation. Paige's taunts and insults, aimed at Daisy, were like a dagger to my heart. It was a reminder of the cruelty that had driven Daisy away, the pain she had endured in my absence.
And then there was Ethan, the one who was supposed to be Daisy's boyfriend. He stood there, looking like a fool, unable to defend the one he claimed to care about. It was a display of weakness that further fueled my anger. If he couldn't protect Daisy, then who would?
The incident had left me seething with anger, a rage that I struggled to contain. I had watched as Daisy and Ethan were humiliated in my classroom, a place that should have been a sanctuary for learning, not a battleground for petty disputes.
The next day, I couldn't let the incident go unaddressed. I knew that as a professor, I had a responsibility to maintain order and discipline in my classroom. But I also had a personal stake in the matter. I couldn't stand by and allow Daisy to be subjected to further humiliation.
So, as I began the class, I couldn't resist the urge to address the incident. I spoke with a tone of authority and an undercurrent of anger, making it clear that such behavior would not be tolerated in my classroom. My words were a reprimand, not just for Paige and Ethan, but for the entire class.
The atmosphere in the classroom was tense, and I could see the discomfort on the faces of the students. But I didn't care. I couldn't let the incident pass without consequences. It was a matter of principle, a stand I had to take to protect Daisy and to assert my authority as a professor.
After the lecture, I decided to call my daughter, Brianna. I needed to share the news with her, to let her know that I had seen Daisy. The conversation was filled with a sense of urgency and excitement. I couldn't contain my emotions, and I wanted to share the moment with my daughter.
"Brianna," I began, my voice laced with anticipation, "guess who I saw in my classroom today."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Brianna's voice came through, filled with curiosity. "Who, Dad? Who did you see?"
I couldn't help but smile at her eagerness, but I wanted to savor the moment a little longer. "Guess, Bri. Take a wild guess."
Brianna's guesses were a mix of friends and colleagues, none of which were accurate. I let her go on for a while, enjoying the playful banter, until I finally revealed the truth.
"Daisy," I said, the name carrying a weight of emotion. "I saw Daisy in my classroom today."
The response on the other end of the line was immediate and filled with excitement. Brianna squealed with delight, a joyful reaction that mirrored my own feelings. It was a moment of reunion, of a step closer to finding Daisy.
"I can't believe it, Dad! You saw Daisy!" Brianna exclaimed. "What did she say? Did you talk to her?"
I had to temper her excitement, to convey the complexity of the situation. "I saw her, but we didn't have a chance to talk. I didn't want to overwhelm her, Bri."
Brianna's response was one of understanding, a reflection of the maturity and empathy that had always defined her. "I get it, Dad. It must have been a lot for her to see you after all this time."
I appreciated her perspective, her ability to see beyond the surface of the situation. It was a reminder of the bond we shared, the connection that had sustained us through the challenges we had faced.
But then, in a surprising turn of events, Brianna made a decision that left me both stunned and elated. "Dad," she began, her voice filled with determination, "I'm going to drop a letter in her university. I want to transfer to Woodland."
The decision was a bold one, a reflection of her unwavering support for the family she had been reunited with.
"Brianna," I said, my voice a mix of gratitude and pride, "that's a big step. Are you sure?"
Her response was resolute. "I want to be closer to Daisy, Dad. I want to support her and let her know that we're here for her."
The conversation left me with a profound sense of gratitude and hope. It was a reminder that, despite the challenges and complexities that had defined our lives, our family remained united by love and a shared commitment to finding Daisy.
As I ended the call with Brianna, I couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of determination.
As the days turned into weeks, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of restlessness. I had seen Daisy in my classroom, and the encounter had ignited a spark of hope within me. But it was a fragile hope, one that was tempered by the uncertainty of the situation.
As days passed, I knew Brianna would soon come over like she had told me, someone knocked my door and i knew it would be Brianna. But as I opened the door to greet Brianna, I was met with a sight that left me stunned and bewildered. Keslie, my former mate, stood on the doorstep, a look of surprise and uncertainty on her face. The encounter was unexpected, and it brought a rush of conflicting emotions.
Brianna's joy at being reunited with her father was evident, but Keslie's presence cast a shadow over the moment. It was a reminder of a past that I had tried to leave behind, a past that had been marked by pain and separation.
Keslie wasted no time in expressing her feelings. She began to weave a tale of love and sacrifice, a narrative in which she had left to protect both Brianna and me. Her words were filled with emotion, and she portrayed herself as a victim, someone who had made difficult choices for the sake of our family.
But I couldn't ignore the anger and frustration that welled up within me. Keslie's return, after all this time, felt like an intrusion, a disruption to the fragile balance we had established. The wounds of our past had not fully healed, and her presence brought back a flood of memories and emotions.
I couldn't help but question her motives. Why had she returned now, after all these years? What did she hope to achieve? The narrative she presented seemed too convenient, too self-serving. It was a challenge to accept her words at face value.
As I looked at Keslie, I couldn't help but think of Daisy. The daughter I had lost, the one whose absence had left a void in my life. I had searched tirelessly for her, and now, when there was a glimmer of hope, Keslie's return threatened to disrupt our efforts.
Brianna, caught in the middle of the tension, was torn between her father and her supposed mother. Her loyalty to both of us was evident, and she struggled to make sense of the conflicting emotions that swirled around her.
Keslie's attempts to win Brianna over were relentless. She painted a picture of a loving family, of a mother who had left to protect her daughter. Her words were convincing, and it was clear that she had put a lot of thought into her narrative.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story, that Keslie was not revealing the full truth. The pain of our separation, the choices we had made, and the consequences that had followed were complex and deeply ingrained.
As the days passed, the tension in the house grew. Brianna, caught in the crossfire of conflicting loyalties, struggled to find her place in the midst of the emotional turmoil. The situation was a reflection of the complexities of our family, the challenges we had faced, and the wounds that had not fully healed.
I couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration and anger. Keslie's return had disrupted the fragile balance we had established, and it had brought back memories of a painful past. I longed to find Daisy, to reunite with the daughter I had lost, and Keslie's presence threatened to hinder our efforts.
But I also knew that I couldn't let my emotions cloud my judgment. I needed to confront Keslie, to understand her motives, and to find a way to move forward.
The days turned into weeks, and the tension in the house remained. Brianna, torn between her loyalty to her father and Keslie. She, struggled to find her place in the midst of the emotional turmoil.