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Before Forever

  • Genre: Romance
  • Author: TITAN
  • Chapters: 41
  • Status: Ongoing
  • Age Rating: 18+
  • 👁 198
  • 7.5
  • 💬 18


In one night, after a tough breakup, I, Allison Cullen, ended up with the man I dreamt about. It was meant to be just one night, never to happen again. But fate had other plans. I ran into him, and he turned out to be not just my Literature professor but also my long-lost babysitter. He used to read me magical stories, and in one night, he showed me the passion I longed for. Now, he's my professor, and I'm his student. This is our forbidden love story where desires and revenge collide. The big question: Will he love me as I love him? Can he be my Peter Pan, just like in my childhood? And most importantly, will he protect me from my past demons?

Art of Intimacy

"I wish it was different with him and me, but that forbidden vibe. Damn, it's addictive. We both know we shouldn't, but that connection. Can't deny it for a second."

 I could tell you the exact moment when my life began to fall apart when everything I built in the last few years came tumbling down, when my boyfriend of two years confessed that he cheated on me, and when I set my eyes on the man of my lustful dreams.

It all started when I sat in my dimly lit room, thinking about the ghastly things, Luke Hamilton, my ass of a boyfriend said to me that day.

‘You're always so demanding, Ally!’

His voice was filled with frustration.

‘God, it's like you never give it a rest.’

The room, adorned with memories of happier times, now felt like a battleground where our love once flourished.

‘It's been a whole year, and all we've done is kiss!’

His discontent echoed, bouncing off the framed photographs that captured smiles frozen in time.

A gust of wind rattled the windows as if nature herself recoiled from the emotional storm brewing within the four walls.

‘I had to see how much I could get away with, and well, you've known about Alicia for weeks; don't act like you're shocked.’

His confession broke me.

‘You put on a front, but deep down, you're just weak and pathetic.’

His cruel words landed like a punch to my emotional core.

As I relived those words, the room seemed to tighten around me, suffocating me with the realization that the love I once knew had slipped away.

A whole week had slipped away, and I was just tired of crying over him.

Seven days of staying in bed, hardly bothering to do anything – not even taking a shower. The room smelled musty; the air heavy with the weight of my emotions.

And, I kept staring at the framed photo on the wall. It was the only one we took together, even though he didn't want to. In the picture, I'm smiling too much, compensating for his complete lack of a smile. His arm around my shoulders felt more like a burden, pressing down on me.

When I look back at the last year, it feels like a waste. I kept trying to make it work because I believed all good relationships needed sacrifice.

Sacrifice, my ass!

The voice in my head wouldn't stop replaying the hurtful things Luke Hamilton said to me in the campus parking lot, holding a takeaway that was supposed to be our dinner. He called me weak, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest, again.

"Why didn't I leave him sooner? What was I thinking?" I muttered to myself, more tears streaming down my face.

The framed photo seemed to mock me, freezing a moment of happiness that had now turned into a painful memory.

"We've only kissed in a whole year," Luke's words echoed in my mind.

Each word felt like a stab to my heart, and the room around me began to close in.

“Why does it feel like I’m not over him?!”

"Come on, Ally, you are!"

Trisha's voice called from the other room, a welcome interruption to my spiraling thoughts. Trisha Black, my wild and fun friend, had been there for me these past few days, making sure I ate something other than noodles in the evenings.

"I can't believe he said that," I said to Trisha, who entered the room with a concerned look on her face. "I thought we had something real."

"You deserve so much better, Ally. Don't let his words define you," Trisha reassured me, her presence providing a small flicker of warmth in the dimness of my room.

I felt wretched, knowing Trisha was genuinely concerned about me.

The sinking feeling lingered, my constant companion for the past week.

Trisha, the breakup maestro, had handled five in a year. She embodied the quintessential swag girl, sipping a large glass of wine on her way to the club, purging her ex at the end of the night as if she could expel every memory.

When I witnessed her tears, they weren't soft; they were fierce and angry.

"He'll realize what he's missing. He'll damn well regret it. Watch him come crawling back in a month, Ally, just watch!"

I yearned for that confidence, the ability to recognize my value.

How pitiful was it?

"Come on, girl, get out of that bed before you become one with it," Trisha's commanding voice jolted me awake.

She had let herself in, as usual, busying herself with cleaning my chaotic kitchen. Trisha, with her long blonde hair tied in a high ponytail, false lashes, and a short off-the-shoulder red dress, stood over me.

I sniffled, realizing I'd been stuck in Luke's old t-shirt and worn-out shorts for days.

"Why the fancy attire?"

"Because we're going out," she declared, tossing my blankets aside and raiding my closet.

"You've been in this apartment for way too long. This isn't healthy, Ally. Why are you even sad? You know that guy was such a je*k. He was always an as***le. A year, and he wouldn't let you meet his parents, come on!"

I sat up, acknowledging the need for a shower and a clean room that wasn't cluttered with half-empty coffee mugs.

The water ran scalding hot in the bathroom, a perfect escape. Glancing in the mirror, I was horrified; dark bags under my amber eyes, a weight loss of five pounds, and my brown hair resembling a rat's nest.

"Pull yourself together, Allison," I scolded my disheveled reflection, resonating with Trisha's advice.

Body wash and hot water performed their miracles. By the time my hair was dry, Trisha had picked out my outfit for the night, I'd been ecstatic when I got that dress, but Luke had hated it, deeming it too provocative.

It had ended up in the back of my closet, unworn, with tags still attached.

We hailed an Uber for downtown, Trisha covertly sneaking vodka shots into an innocuous water bottle.

"Where are we even going?" I questioned.

"You know my classes start tomorrow, right? I really can't get too turned up," I added.

She looked at me incredulously through her piercing ocean blues. "Trisha, I can't."

"Okay, okay," she acquiesced, pouting slightly. "We're heading to Ember Lounge!"

"Oh god, Ember Lounge? Trisha, that's where —"

"Everyone hooks up? Yeah, exactly. A buzzing crowd where everyone's eager for a piece of hot Ally allure. Trust me. A little flirting, maybe making out with a stranger you'll never see again? It's good for your self-confidence and a way to get over that piece of shit you call your ex."

I was fairly certain studies contradicted that sentiment, but it was too late. We arrived, and three shots later, I found myself leaning against the bar, my headlight, and everything pleasantly numb.



Trisha, predictably, latched onto a well-built hunk and vanished onto the dance floor. "I'll be right back," she slurred.

"Right back, okay, Ally, just stay right there."

As the pulsating beat of the music engulfed the Lounge, my eyes scanned the room. The atmosphere was alive, a kaleidoscope of colors and laughter. The area, with its dimly lit ambiance, offered a sanctuary for those seeking refuge from their troubles.

She returned from the dance floor; her enthusiasm was contagious.

"You feel the vibe, Ally?"

I nodded, the alcohol enhancing the vibrant hues around me.

The dress she had chosen for me accentuated my features. A midnight blue cocktail dress with a delicate lace overlay, highlighting my curves. My eyes sparkled beneath the club's neon lights, and my brunette locks cascaded in loose waves, framing my apple-shaped face.

As I moved through the crowd, the fabric of the dress clung gently to my figure. The low-cut neckline showcased my good-sized bosom. My appearance drew a few glances from intrigued strangers.

Leaning against the bar, my senses dulled, a guy offered to buy me a drink. However, he resembled Luke a bit too much. I lied about waiting for my boyfriend, gesturing vaguely towards the bathroom. That was when I spotted HIM, sitting at a tall round table, chin resting on his fist.

He seemed like a character plucked straight from the pages of a Vogue magazine, a powerful presence amid the lively chaos of the bar.

Tousled dark golden-brown hair framed his face, and his muscular build exuded strength. The thin black glasses perched on his nose added a touch of intellectual allure. Remarkably, he was engrossed …… in a book.

Wait, what?

As the alcohol-fueled haze lifted, I squinted to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me.

There he was, scratching his temple and engrossed in a book in the dimly lit bar.


Emboldened by liquid courage, I decided to approach him, aiming for an air of casual confidence.

"Hi," I greeted, catching him off guard.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his features, momentarily forgetting the bustling bar around us.

"Hello," he replied, a faint smile gracing his perfect rosy lips.

The alcohol seemed to heighten every sensation, including an unexpected surge of attraction.

I nodded toward the book in his hands, revealing a different psychology tome. "Are you reading John M. Gottman?" I asked.

He chuckled, glancing at the book somewhat sheepishly. "Yeah, classes start tomorrow. I have to study up. Are you familiar with this one?"

I confessed, "I've explored some internet psychology. It was a while ago, and I found it a bit dull."

His laughter was contagious, and I found myself drawn to the way his eyes lit up. "The dynamics of trust, betrayal, and how trust is built and maintained in close relationships—it needs patience."

"It's a fascinating exploration of the human mind. But you've got to admit, it can get a bit boring," I said, observing the way his deep green eyes sparked with agreement.

"Yeah, I still haven't quite made it through the whole book. Just so much to absorb. But I find psychology, overall, to be pretty interesting."

As I studied him more closely, a sense of déjà vu lingered, perhaps a mirage induced by the alcohol haze.

"Hey?" he said, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out, "Have we met before?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "If we had, I'd remember you," he smirked. "Okay, okay, on a serious note," he added, removing his glasses, "No, I don’t think we’ve met before." He stowed his glasses back in his pocket and gestured to an empty seat.

A closer look only confirmed—he was undeniably attractive.

Our conversation continued to flow, with Trisha, in her exuberant drunken state, swooping in for a tight hug. "HEY! GIRL!"

She still had her companion in tow, introducing him amidst a cascade of giggles.

She motioned to him, "This is Sam, by the way. Oooh and hello, who is this?"

"Adrian," he said, extending his hand to her.

The name seemed to effortlessly match his personality.

"Okay, chop-chop! We need more drinks!" Trisha declared, pulling me towards the bar before her man-hunk joined the scene.

The idea of another drink felt unnecessary, but she was on a mission. I glanced back at him, a mix of helplessness and amusement on my face.

"Would you like to join us? Maybe for a drink?" I asked him, and he rose from his seat, tucking the book under his arm.

"I've never been asked by a woman, but I'll buy," he said, clearly amused, his eyes shining under the dim lights.

Trisha, engaged in alcohol challenges with her companion, left us momentarily.

"I'll have a Bourbon," Adrian decided, turning to me. "What would you like?"

"Oh, the same thing you're having," I slurred, the alcohol now weaving its magic.


He frowned, questioning my certainty. "Are you sure?" I wasn't, but I nodded anyway.

The rest of the night blurred into a medley of '90s songs, and memories faded into hazy recollections of dancing to 'Love is in the Air' by John Paul Young.

An hour later, we found ourselves on the sidewalk, my heels in hand as I suggested walking back to my apartment.

Trisha had an Uber, but I knew the city well enough for a two-block stroll at one in the morning. Adrian opted for an Uber too.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," he insisted, helping me into the car.

The cool night breeze carried a refreshing scent of rain.

"Good, I'm not letting you out of my sight either," I slurred, unsure of my volume.

His amused smile suggested I should probably apologize. Hiccupping, I managed a feeble, "Sorry."

He laughed, the sound merging with the city's nocturnal melody. "I know. Don't worry about it."

By the time we arrived at my apartment, I had a clear idea of what I wanted, and I would get it.

"You planning to join me upstairs?" I inquired as the car came to a stop. He hesitated, a cautious glint in his eyes.

"I'm not sure about that," he began a note of regret in his tone. "You've had quite a bit to drink."

I frowned, nudging him gently. "I'm not that drunk. Can't you at least come up and make sure I get inside alright?" Adrian considered; his dark, green eyes suddenly intense.

"If I agree to come up," he said slowly, "don't expect a good night's sleep."

I grinned, a playful glint in my eyes, and pulled him along. "Who needs sleep anyway? Come on, indulge me a little."

Open the Door

"He looked at her the way she needed to be looked at, like the whole world would crumble and he wouldn't blink."

Before I could unlock the door of my apartment, he held my waist and pulled me into his body. My back was pressed up against him, my keys still hanging in the lock. I felt his every rugged breath, the heat seeping through his white button-down shirt.

His hand slid over my belly and rested, his hold wasn't gentle, it was his way of showing how much he was restraining himself. I arched my back so that the back of my head rested on his chest, his body tensed, and he enveloped me even more.

"You sure want me in there?" He whispered to my ears.

He was so close to me that I could smell his masculine scent, it was heavenly.

I didn't respond. I couldn't.

His hands started tracing the curves of my body as my hips moved on their own, grazing his groin, ever so slightly. And suddenly, he pulled me back so that I was


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