One Night With My Alpha Professor

Chapter 269

Audrey

“Edwin, I swear to the Goddess, if you tear those stitches again-

“I’m fine,” Edwin grunted as he lifted the heavy wooden sign over his head, his muscles straining with the effort. Sweat beaded at his temple despite the crisp autumn breeze, and through the bond, I could feel the throb of pain that he was clearly trying so hard to hide. Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I crossed my arms, watching him warily from the sidewalk as he balanced on the ladder, looking way too confident for someone who had been stabbed less than two weeks ago.

“You were stabbed through the chest,” I reminded him pointedly. “Less than two weeks ago. There is nothing ‘fine‘ about this.”

“Audrey’s right,” Gavin called up from where he stood, holding the ladder steady. “I could’ve done this myself, you know.”

But Edwin, of course, just shook his head, that familiar stubborn set to his jaw as he focused on securing the new sign above Avis’s shop window. The fresh paint gleamed under the morning sun, the words Avis’s Tailoring standing out in elegant golden script.

“Seriously, I’m fine. This is the least I can do,” Edwin muttered, his breath hitching slightly as he tightened the last bracket. “And for what, exactly?” I asked, crossing my arms tighter as I glared up at him. “For nearly dying?”

He ignored me, his jaw clenching as he carefully descended the ladder. “After everything with Nightfall-”

“Which wasn’t your fault,” I interjected quickly, but Edwin kept his focus on the sign, as if finishing this one small task was somehow going to make up for the chaos that we had all endured.

Gavin and I exchanged glances as Edwin worked. He’d been blaming himself with the Nightfall situation–claiming that if he had just done something to stop Black from ruining the market’s natural balance in our territory, that Avis’s shop and so many others never would have suffered.

Of course, none of us believed that it was his fault. And even if we had somehow kept Nightfall from starting business here in Crescent, Black would have just gone elsewhere. The only way to handle that whole mess was to stop it at the root.

Which we had.

Atticus Black was dead. In the days that followed the disaster, his body–along with many of the others who had worked for him–had been uncovered from the rubble. No one mourned him, nor did they mourn that awful business of his, half of which had been swallowed up by a sinkhole.

That was the explanation we went with: a sinkhole. A freak accident that had just been waiting to happen. It was the only way to explain why the building had crumbled like that, at least to the public.

But between Edwin, Peter, Betty and I…

We all knew that it had been my scream–my agony–that had brought the place down. That somehow, I had tapped into some divine, ancient entity inside of me when I had screamed. It was as if, during the moments that I’d felt my mate’s life slipping away, all of the past incarnations of our souls had banded together and unleashed a fury deep enough to crack the

earth.

The sinkhole theory, though, was much more palatable for the public. And more palatable for my own peace of mind, if I was being honest.

I rolled my eyes so hard at my mate’s stubbornness that it almost hurt. “Fine. Tear your stitches. See if I care.”

Of course I cared, and he knew it. I could feel the flicker of amusement through our mate bond, a quiet chuckle echoing through our Mindlink, as I turned on my heel and headed inside the little bell above the door chiming softly as I pushed it open.

The shop was warm and alive with activity. Betty and Peter were bent over a mountain of fabric swatches to sort, Tina was helping my mother with cleaning the place, and Avis was processing a steadily growing stack of orders–which had been coming in nonstop since Nightfall had been exposed for its shady practices.

Apparently, people actually felt bad for buying into fast fashion, and were making up for it by supporting their local businesses. Nature really was healing itself.

In the corner, I spotted Eliza sitting in the plush armchair we had brought down from the apartment, Joseph curled up in her lap as she read to him. She was pointing at words on the page, and although he wasn’t speaking them out loud, he was mouthing them silently as she read.

It was remarkable, seeing how much lighter he seemed, how much life had returned to his eyes in just a few weeks. No one told him exactly what happened with the factory, of course. We’d just told him that no more kids would be getting hurt. But that alone seemed to cheer him up immensely.

I made my way over to Avis, who didn’t look up from her paperwork as I approached. “Orders are up thirty percent from last month,” she said.

“People finally realized where the real talent is,” Tina declared as she rolled up a bolt of silk that had come undone. “Not in some soulless corporate nightmare factory.”

Peter snorted from across the room. “Yeah, nothing says ‘soulless corporate nightmare‘ like actual slave labor.”

The room fell quiet for a moment, Eliza glaring daggers at Peter Joseph, for his part, seemed too busy mouthing out the words ‘teddy bear‘ on the page of his book to notice.

After that, I offered Avis a pat on the shoulder and moved to help sort through the fabric samples, but my mind wandered.. My eyes kept drifting toward the still–empty storefront across the street, where that ‘For Lease‘ sign was still on display. I’d been gawking at it all day.

Now that I knew what I wanted to do, I could see it so clearly in my mind–a boutique, large windows filled with my designs. Every purchase would mean something more, where profits would flow back into the community, into charities, into helping people who needed it the most.

Of course, I still didn’t quite have the savings. I’d decided to start online first, making and selling my designs from home, until I saved up enough to buy a shop of my own. But that place would likely be snatched up before I had the chance, what with the clothing market quickly returning to normal.

“Audrey?” Tina suddenly nudged me in the ribs. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” I blinked, my vision dissolving as I snapped back to reality,

“That dreamy far–off stare,” she said with a grin. “Like you’re planning something.”

I tried to play it off, but I could feel my cheeks warming under my friends‘ knowing looks, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Thankfully the bell chimed again before I had to say anything else, and Edwin and Gavin walked in from outside. Edwin immediately crossed the room to me, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“Sign’s up,” he murmured.

I raised an eyebrow. “And how many stitches did you pop?”

He shot me a sheepish look as he sank into a nearby chair. “None Probably.”

1

I opened my mouth to retort, but before I could say anything, the atmosphere in the room shifted. A subtle tension filled the air, like static electricity just before a storm.

I turned to see Gavin standing in the middle of the shop, his expression unusually serious, his hands fidgeting in his pockets.

“Avis,” he said softly. “Can you come here for a second?”

Avis looked up, confusion flickering across her features. She wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist as she stepped forward, moving around the counter toward Gavin.

And then, before anyone could even register what was happening, Gavin dropped to one knee in front of her.

“Avis… Will you marry me?”