Im Not Her

Jessica Harts grew up in a house where love arrived before money ever did.

Her childhood home sat on a quiet coastal street, modest but warm, always smelling faintly of antiseptic and laundry detergent—evidence of her mother’s profession. Elaine Harts was a senior nurse in a public hospital, a woman who worked double shifts and came home with tired eyes but steady hands. She raised her daughters on discipline, prayer, and the belief that education was the only inheritance that could never be stolen.

Jess learned resilience early. Not because life was cruel, but because it demanded effort. She watched her mother leave before sunrise and return long after dusk.

Her older sister, Cassie, became her first role model—protective, outspoken, and fiercely independent. Together, they learned how to navigate life without shortcuts.

Jess was the kind of girl teachers noticed for all the right reasons. Intelligent, observant, and quietly ambitious. She wasn’t loud, but she was present. Not reckless, but curious. She dreamed of building a life that blended purpose with comfort—a future where she could give back without losing herself.

University was not just a milestone—it was proof that the sacrifices had meant something. Proof that she could build a future wide enough to carry everyone who believed in her.

That morning, as she stood at the gates of the University of Gold Coast campus with a suitcase at her feet and her heart racing with anticipation, Jess told herself this was where everything would begin.

She didn’t know yet that trust could feel safe before it felt dangerous.

She didn’t know yet how thin some lines were.

…….

I stared at the beautiful image of this damsel standing before me, her hips swaying from side to side as she catwalked toward me. I got lost staring at her cleavage peeking from the V-neck crop top she wore. They weren't too big or too small..just the right, perky kind that jiggled slightly as she walked by.

"Hey, Dad. Dad!!" she called, snapping me back to reality.

Jessica had just been admitted to the university, while I had been here for the past three years. This was currently my fourth and final year. I'm a Civil Engineering student-and Jessica's school father. My name is Andre.

Jess, as I call her, is not only intelligent but also undeniably beautiful. A perfectly carved figure-eight body. A face that makes heads turn.. pointed nose, almond eyes, naturally pink lower lips, and soft eyebrows that complete her angelic look.

I was the first person she approached on her first day when she got lost on her way to a lecture hall. I remember the day like it happened yesterday. She stopped me, looking slightly embarrassed.

She had stopped me near the Science Block, looking lost and a little flustered. "Hi... sorry. Do you know where the Science Department is? I think I'm lost "

Her voice was soft, uncertain.

I recognized her immediately. Jessica Harts. We had gone to the same elementary school years ago, though she didn't seem to recognize me.

"Yes, actually," It's just by the side of the students' cafeteria, close to the VC's office."

She looked a bit confused, so I added, "You know what, I'll take you there-if that's okay with you?"

"Okay, sure. Thank you so much," she replied, visibly relieved.

That one offer became everything.

Since that day, we'd been close. Texting, studying, eating together. I helped her register for courses, talked her through assignments, and answered her late-night calls when she got anxious before class. It felt good at first, protective. Purposeful.

But over time, my feelings warped into something else. Something I couldn't explain. Or control.

She didn't make it easier, either not intentionally. She called me "Dad" like it was a joke, always laughing, always wrapping her arms around me like I was the safest place in the world.

She had no idea.

"Dad, are you okay?" Jessica's voice pulled me back to the present.

Shit. I had been staring again.

"Uh, yes, dear. I'm fine," I quickly replied.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, placing her hand softly on my shoulder. "Is it your final exams?"

"No, dear."