Lila was in surgery less than 12 hours later that day then followed three weeks of difficult recovery in the Hospital. I started attending Medical school during that time while the professor never showed up or opened a case, and my father announced that Yilmaz hushed the matter. I, conversely, thought it was anything but settled.

"Did the kind man like orange juice? Because I can't stop drinking it!" A small voice spoke, distracting me from thinking about him. She sucked into the orange juice like there was no tomorrow.

"Take it slow, Habibti" I spoke as I part the straw from her lips.

"Should I bring the thank you note supplies now ?" The nurse who was changing Lila's bedsheet spoke kindly toward Lila.

"The what ?" I looked over toward the small girl sitting beside me on the couch.

She looked down, "I want to say thank you to the kind man for giving me the world bestest of kidney," She spoke so fondly.

I looked toward my father whose glare was pointed at me waiting for me to disappoint her as I should have, but couldn't when she said, "I will draw a big red heart and.."

The sadness inside her green eyes seemed to slowly fade as she began to list the things she could draw; it was like a new meaning for her. I then opposed my father wishes and agreed for her to do it.

After a few hours, I noticed my alarm ringing notifying me that it was 9 am; my lecture was on for today, so I left after I kissed and hugged my tiny survivor while Layan was still sleeping through all of it and I didn't have the heart to wake her up.

After what seemed like a long drive, I finally pulled up at the university parking lot after an hour of looking for a parking space. I enter the university gated door to see a bunch of students gathered around my lecture room, A309.

"This way Professor," His new professor assistant spoke waving her hand. "Welcome back."

I gulped. I saw the professor form staring at his phone as the people gathered around him were not even given one percent of his attention.

I blinked and took a breath. A hundred emotions flew through me at once, from delight to anger, from hope to hatred.

I saw him stiffen and look around the class, probably searching for the emotional rollercoaster, before he started texting.

I was wondering who was texting...

I went on to find a place to sit in at the back when my mobile vibrates. I pull it out and find a text from the Professor.

Wahaj, Meet me at your earliest convenience to discuss the matter.

I snort and glare out the window – wondering what was he thinking?

Was he going to discuss his kidney?

Was he going to discuss the police matter?

Was he going to discuss my reasons for being here?

Fifteen minutes later, into his long lecture, my mobile vibrates once more as he was giving us the assignment to do.

Wahaj, I can see you I know you read the message, I think it would be beneficial to the both of us if we spoke before you leave the lecture today.

He's good.

His texts are vague enough to mean anything. I wonder how often does he think he could get away with his actions.

I smirk and look at him from where I sat as I drop my phone back into my bag. I'm not playing this game with him.

As I finished my class assignment, the phone vibrates yet again.

Wahaj, I believe we have a lot to discuss.

He's desperate. After what I have done, he may not be feeling quite as invincible any longer. He must not like not knowing everything. He must want to see if I was going to sink him, and his perfect medical world fades away.

"Okay, class," He said, standing up. Relief enveloped him.

"Tomorrow we will have a quiz, and then I will begin full throttle with the lecture. finish reading the books assigned, and I will see you tomorrow."

The class began to stand up and gradually leave. I stood by my desk, feeling indecision on whether to stay or go.

But he didn't make me decided but decide for me as he made his way to me through the departing students. "Miss Muhammad, please stay for a moment I want a quick word."

The students beside me looked at both the professor and me, curiosity radiating from them.

"We won't be long," He assured me, as the student seemed to leave.

"Wahaj?"

"Yes, professor?" I answered calmly and professionally in my exterior, but my interior was nervous and irritated.

"Why are you still here?" He asked roughly, "All I did four years ago didn't succeed if you are still here."

I didn't talk because his question baffled me. "Wahaj."

From all that, he couldn't ask why did he choose this question, "What did you do four years ago ?" I asked cursiosly.

"It isn't important now, what is important is that you leave this college, not everything is what it seems."

"I won't leave," I announced as I shrugged his warning off.

"Wahaj, for once listen to me," He spoke desperately.

"If you don't mind professor, I'd prefer you to call me Miss Muhammad, just like you call any other student."

"Wahaj please, I am not married to my student, I don't care about any other student like I do you,"

"Why are you like this ?" I asked him softly, "What is your game here?" I questioned.

The feeling of not being able to breathe as he stood so close to me came back. I promised my self; I won't let him close enough to hurt me again.

I won't fall for his games, "Professor Yilmaz, that life is over. I've moved on okay."

But I hadn't, and I couldn't hide it from his piercing green eyes as he smirked looking at me, "No, you haven't, you wouldn't be seeking for me if you did."

"What makes you think that you are all of that?" I questioned as he gripped my forearm, "and what makes you think that you are any less,"

I was left speechless, "You are wrong about the people around you as wrong as you are about my reasons," He explained further,

"Don't you think that Mrs chamberlain paying for your therapy, your scholarship to this college four years ago, as well as telling you about me a bit suspicious," He emphasised, "Why would she care about a maid's granddaughter," He spoke.

"You are so gullible to people who are close to you," He lectured huskily.

When my voice finally does return to me, "Thanks to you, I won't be anymore,"

He was the one who was left speechless this time as I attacked the person closest to him, "Eman is quit a catch isn't she, I suppose it worked out in its on the way, didn't it? You and she are now engaged,"

"And you and I are still married," He rhymed with my voice as he spoke.

"Because you refuse to sign the divorce paper during those four years," I screamed at him as he murmured softly and a bit aggressively, "lower your voice,"

"You are afraid of someone catching you talking to Your wife," I announced with more aggressiveness.

"Professor, can I ask you a question ?" one of the students who walked back inside the lecture room spoke, I didn't notice if she heard or not, but if she did then it won't end well.

"There are office hours for talking, I am busy now," He roughly spoke as rudeness filled his communication skills.

"I will leave now," I spoke.

"But we need to talk, Miss Muhammad," He started, "Miss Muhammad," He shouted behind me as he was unable to follow because of his recent surgery which he didn't mention at all.

"We will talk at MY earliest convenience, Professor, and not a second earlier. Have a pleasant day," I finished as the student who was still standing there smiled.