Please Harder, Professor

Chapter 145

Sophie’s POV

The apartment feels too small with everyone in it. Dad and Emma arrived first, followed by my sisters—Madison and Abby, both looking around with wide eyes like they're touring a disaster zone. Eleanor emerged from her room to greet everyone with warm hugs.

Now we're all crowded into the living room. Everyone coos over Amelia, passing her around carefully, making those exaggerated baby-talk voices adults use when they don't know what else to say.

"She's gotten so big!" Madison holds Amelia awkwardly, like she might break. "Look at her little fingers!"

Abby snaps photos on her phone. "Can I post these? Or is that…"

"No social media," Adrian says sharply from across the room. "Absolutely not."

Abby's face falls. She glances at me for confirmation.

I nod. "Sorry. Just... not yet."

The first real tension hits when I take Amelia back from Dad. I settle her against my shoulder, supporting her head with practiced ease.

"You're holding her wrong," Adrian says, loud enough for everyone to hear. "The angle—you need to support her neck better."

Heat floods my face. "I know how to hold my own daughter."

"I'm just saying the angle could be—"

"I've been holding her for three months, Adrian. I think I've figured it out."

The sharpness in my voice makes everyone go quiet. Madison and Abby exchange uncomfortable glances. Dad's expression shifts into that assessing mode that makes me feel like I'm being evaluated for structural damage.

Eleanor jumps in with forced cheerfulness. "All parents are learning together. Even after raising children, every baby is different…"

"Speaking of learning," I cut her off, unable to stop the words, "I had to improvise dinner tonight since someone forgot the groceries I asked him to pick up."

Adrian's jaw tightens. "I've been busy."

"This is the third time this week." I adjust Amelia, trying to keep my voice level and failing. "Third time, Adrian. How hard is it to remember a list?"

"I've had a lot on my mind. Work emails about the job offer…"

"What job offer?" The question bursts out before I can stop it.

Adrian goes very still. "It's nothing. Just an inquiry I'm exploring."

"An inquiry you didn't think to mention to me?"

"Because it's probably nothing."

"Or because you're making plans that don't include me?" My voice is rising now. I can hear it but can't seem to control it. "What job offer, Adrian?"

"Can we discuss this later?" His eyes dart toward our guests. "We have company."

"Right. Wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of my family."

Dad stands abruptly. "Maybe we should go…"

"No," I say too quickly. "Stay. We're fine. Everything's fine."

But nothing is fine. The air between Adrian and me crackles with hostility barely contained.

Emma tries to redirect. "Should we order pizza instead of cooking? Take the pressure off."

"The pressure wouldn't exist if Adrian had just done the one thing I asked." I know I sound petty, know I should let it go. But weeks of resentment are bubbling up and I can't shove them back down.

"One thing?" Adrian's voice goes cold. "I do plenty—"

"When I force you to! When I explicitly spell out every task like you're an employee instead of my partner."

"Here we go again." Adrian stands, starts pacing. "Nothing I do is ever enough for you."

"You don't do anything!" The words explode out of me. "You hide in your study, you make plans without telling me, you forget basic responsibilities, and then you act like I'm unreasonable for being frustrated!"

Abby whispers something to Madison. Both of them have shrunk into the couch cushions, trying to make themselves smaller.

"The apartment is too warm," Adrian says abruptly, moving toward the thermostat. "Everyone's uncomfortable."

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject. I'm adjusting the temperature."

"It's fine," Dad says quietly. "Adrian, it's fine."

"It's seventy-eight degrees. That's too warm with this many people." Adrian starts turning the dial.

"Leave it." My voice is sharp. "Just leave it alone."

"It's my apartment too."

"Is it?" I laugh, bitter and exhausted. "Because you treat it like a hotel you're temporarily staying in. Never here, never present, never actually living in this space with us."

"That's not fair and you know it… Amelia doesn't need that blanket!" Adrian interrupts himself, gesturing at Eleanor who's draped a light blanket over the baby in my arms. "She'll overheat."

"She's fine," I snap. "Eleanor knows what she's doing."

"I'm just saying it's warm and the blanket is unnecessary."

"Then take off your shirt if you're so hot instead of micromanaging how I care for our daughter!"

The silence that follows is deafening. Everyone stares—at me, at Adrian, at the floor, anywhere but at each other.

Madison's eyes are wide with shock. Abby looks like she wants to disappear through the couch cushions. Dad's face has gone carefully neutral, but I can see the concern beneath it. Emma just looks sad.

Eleanor stands slowly. "Perhaps we should take a breath and focus on enjoying time together?"

"There's nothing to enjoy." Adrian's voice is flat, defeated. "This is what it's like now: constant fighting, constant criticism. Nothing I do is right."

"Because you don't do anything right!" I'm crying now, can't stop the tears. "You go through motions and expect praise for minimal effort!"

"I'm doing my best."

"Your best isn't enough!" The words hang in the air, cruel and true. "It's never enough because you don't actually want this. You want your old life back and every day you make it clearer that we're just obligations you're stuck with!"

Adrian goes very still. His face shutters into that blank expression I've come to hate. "I think our guests should leave."

"Don't make this about them."

"I'm not making it about anything." His voice is ice. "I'm just stating a fact. This isn't appropriate conversation for the company."

Dad is already standing, gathering Emma with a gentle hand. "We'll go. Sophie, sweetheart…"

"I'm fine." I'm not fine. I'm falling apart in front of my entire family. "I'm sorry you had to… I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay." Emma hugs me carefully, mindful of Amelia. "Call us later, okay?"

Madison and Abby hug me too, both of them clearly uncomfortable and relieved to be leaving. They mumble something about next time being better, promises we all know are lies.

Eleanor hesitates at the door, looks between Adrian and me with an expression I can't read. "I'm going to my room. If either of you need…"

"We're fine," Adrian says curtly.

Eleanor nods and doesn't argue. She disappears down the hallway.

I walk my family to the door. The hugs are awkward, don't quite connect. Dad holds on a beat too long, like he's trying to physically transfer strength I don't have.

"Call us," he says quietly. "Anytime. We're here."

I nod, not trusting my voice.

The door closes behind them.

Silence crashes down like a physical weight. The apartment that felt too crowded moments ago now feels cavernous. Just me and Adrian and Amelia and all the words we can't take back floating between us like ghosts.