The Love Syllabus
THE LOVE
SYLLABUS
LAUREN LACEY
Copyright © 2025
LAUREN LACEY
THE LOVE SYLLABUS
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
LAUREN LACEY
LAUREN LACEY BOOKS
First Edition 2025
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
*Trigger/Content Warning*
This story is a heartfelt, swoon-worthy romance with well-deserved dashes of spice, but it does touch on sensitive topics such as emotional manipulation, physical abuse, domestic violence, and death in the characters’ backstories. While these themes are handled with care and do not overshadow the love story, I want readers to feel safe and prepared as they dive into Kerry and Victor’s journey.
Interior Book Design by Walt’s Book Design
EDITOR
Jacquie – Fancy Edits
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Author’s Note
There’s no perfect syllabus for life. There isn’t a foolproof plan that guarantees everything will go smoothly. Kerry Kind and Victor Grimes aren’t perfect, and they don’t always get it right. But that’s what makes them real. That’s the beauty of being human. They’re figuring life out as they go, making mistakes, learning, and trying their best, just like the rest of us.
This story is for anyone who has ever felt uncertain about their future, had to start over, or still believes in love, even when it’s complicated, confusing, and arrives when you least expect it. Their journey is filled with laughter, fiery banter, heat, and those quiet, intimate moments that remind us why love, in all its forms, is worth embracing.
I hope as you read, you see parts of yourself in Kerry and Victor—their fears, their doubts, their hopes, their dreams, and their determination to carve out something beautiful in a world that doesn’t always make it easy.
And more than anything, I hope The Love Syllabus reminds you that even when life doesn’t go according to plan, you’re still resilient, still deserving, and still worthy of a love that feels like home.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Kerry Kind – Kerry
Chapter 2
Unexpected Opportunities – Kerry
Chapter 3
Victor Grimes – Vic
Chapter 4
First Impressions – Kerry
Chapter 5
An Insufferable Surprise – Kerry
Chapter 6
Blurring Lines – Vic
Chapter 7
Trial Run – Kerry
Chapter 8
A Damn Fool – Vic
Chapter 9
Mixed Signals – Kerry
Chapter 10
All in a Day’s Work – Kerry
Chapter 11
A Grand Grimes Gesture – Kerry
Chapter 12
Googly Eyes – Vic
Chapter 13
New Beginnings, New Friends – Vic
Chapter 14
Soaked & Seduced – Kerry
Chapter 15
Wine, Whiskey, and Wicked Hands – Kerry
Chapter 16
Dressed to Kill… His Ego – Kerry
Chapter 17
Selling the Dream, Living the Lie – Kerry
Chapter 18
Pretty, Petty, and Perfect – Vic
Chapter 19
Lights. Camera. Tension. – Kerry
Chapter 20
Excuses – Kerry
Chapter 21
A Double Date with Darkness – Kerry
Chapter 22
Her Last Touch – Vic
Chapter 23
Lovesick Lunatic – Kerry
Chapter 24
Family Night – Kerry
Chapter 25
Mile High Club – Kerry
Chapter 26
Resurrection – Kerry
Chapter 27
Sinfully Sweet – Kerry
Chapter 28
His Second Chance – Vic
Chapter 29
Kerry Kind’s Got A Man – Kerry
Chapter 30
Kerry Kind – Family Vacation
Chapter 31
Syllabus Complete – Kerry
Epilogue
Kerry
Chapter 1
Kerry Kind – Kerry
There’s nothing more beautiful than realizing the beauty around us, in the people we love, the moments that shape us, and the dreams that keep us moving forward. I’ve been shaped and reshaped more times than I can count, with each experience carving away pieces of me until only the core of who I am remains.
At my core, I’m a teacher—a homegrown teacher who never quite got out of my small Southern Georgia hometown.
But just because I never left doesn’t mean I didn’t want more for myself. I never thought I needed to run away to find fulfillment or success. Sometimes, more is right in front of you. Sometimes, more isn’t about escaping. It’s about believing that something greater is within reach. I just need to keep dreaming and trust that those dreams can still be achieved.
I dream of possibilities, of a life bigger than my existence, where my dreams aren’t tethered to overdue bills or dwindling paychecks. One day, I’ll fulfill every wild hope I’ve ever dared to dream—starting with my bank account. I need to dream big because my balance is extremely low, and I’m one misplaced decimal away from financial disaster.
My name is Kerry Kind, and I’m on the brink of being kind of broke.
For twelve years, I’ve been teaching and tutoring kids in Beverly Mills, Georgia. I’ve poured every ounce of myself into shaping their futures, hoping to inspire them, guide them, and empower them. Teaching isn’t just my job; it’s my life. Or at least, it was. Now, I have to figure out life without it.
I’ve been fired.
Well, not technically. The district calls it “placed on hold.” A neat little euphemism meant to soften the blow of losing the one thing that ever made me feel truly whole. The board claims there’s an overabundance of teachers now that Beverly Mills has merged with its wealthier neighboring city, Greer.
I swear, this town is a paradox. While the rest of the country struggles with teacher shortages, our tiny town is overflowing with resources, or rather, bureaucracy. And teachers like me, the ones from the wrong side of the tracks, without the right last names or deep pockets? Well, we’re left scrambling to survive. Caught in the crossfire of public school closures while state-of-the-art campuses arise, perfectly tailored for the ultra-wealthy parents who get to handpick who educates their children.
In the meantime, I’ve been hustling, tutoring kids here-and-there, and teaching online classes to anyone who clicks ‘Join.’ But here-and-there money isn’t enough. I need the security of a consistent paycheck. I need to stop agonizing over every expense and get back to enjoying the small comforts of life without guilt or anxiety.
Every tutoring session I book feels like a small victory, but I know these gigs aren’t sustainable. I need something reliable, something that offers not just income but a future.
Still, if I’ve learned anything from my misfortune, it’s that being in this tight spot has forced me to become more resourceful and resilient. So, I remain hopeful, trusting that despite my setback, I will bounce back.
And it’s easy for me to believe this because I’ve got my girls—my anchors, my sounding boards, and sometimes my brutally honest critics.
Izzy Waylen Hernandez, Serena Ross, and Kiera Hawkins are my best friends, the ones who’ve been there through every twist and turn of my life. We grew up together, leaned on each other, and somehow, despite our wildly different lives, remained close.
Today, we’re all gathered at Izzy’s floral shop, helping her prep for the grand opening of her second location. Izzy meticulously arranges white peonies for the perfect social media post, while Serena, the hotshot journalist, sips an iced coffee like she doesn’t have a care in the world, and Kiera stuffs reminder invitations into envelopes, all the while keeping an eye on her phone, just in case, her nanny calls.
The shop is quiet except for the rustle of paper and the occasional clink of ice against Serena’s cup until Izzy finally snaps the perfect shot, then whirls on me with fiery indignation.
“This is ridiculous, Kerry! Absolutely ridiculous! There’s no way those rich pricks should be allowed to dictate who stays and who goes. They fired the best teachers this town has to offer, you included!”
“It’s straight-up bullshit,” Serena cuts in, leaning against the counter with a freshly manicured hand propping up her head. “You’re the Beyoncé of teachers. It’s a crime to let you go.”
“It’s blasphemy!” Kiera interjects, crossing her arms over her chest. “Complete disrespect for everything you’ve worked for, everything our town stands for—being kind and good. Kerry, you deserve better. So much better.”
I’ve dedicated my entire adult life to teaching. I earned my master’s degree, every certification under the sun, and I was president of the student-teacher social committee. I was Teacher of the Year for three years in a row. Three years for crying out loud! Not to mention, I’ve tutored students at the rec nearly every weekend for the past ten years! Teaching is my life! But my criminal record has suddenly emerged as an issue and overshadowed everything I’ve worked so hard for. Nowadays, all people ever do is judge.
“I know!” I let out a defeated sigh, my chest tightening.
Kiera stops stuffing envelopes and levels with me. “You know who’s behind this, right?”
“No,” I reply, but the uncertainty in my voice betrays me.
She crosses her arms, tilting her head with a pointed glare. “Oh, come on, Kerry. There’s no way you believe this has nothing to do with him.”
“Cory?” I ask, my throat tightening as I say his name. “No. No way. It’s been nearly two years since the divorce. And months since I last heard from him. He won, I lost. Why would he wanna take anything else from me?”
“Your ex-husband absolutely did this to you.” Serena scoffs, her voice rising an octave. “You’re still happy, and Cory Martin is still a cowardly little slimeball who gets off on making you miserable. He’s been on his high horse ever since he was named Superintendent. He wants you to crawl back to him and beg for a job. He tried to steal your joy, but you kept smiling. He tried to make this town hate you, but we loved you even harder. He tried to put you away, but you’re free. And now he’s trying to destroy your career, but it won’t work.
Kiera nods solemnly, her brow furrowed. “He thrives on control. You know that better than anyone. And he’s taken the most cruel and absurd measures to ensure no one would ever hire you. I hate him, Kerry. I hate him so much.”
As much as I hate to admit it, my girls are right. Cory’s still trying to control me, still trying to destroy me. He had to have the final word in every aspect of our marriage. He dang near ran my life, and when he realized he couldn’t break me, it infuriated him.
I had to get out. So, I chose to be free rather than frightened. I left him with everything except my joy and dignity. I kept that intact, which is why my name fits. I’m kind.
Kerry Kind.
There was a time in my life when I only recognized myself by name. I had no idea who I was anymore. My life seemed to crumble into fragments around me like a relentless storm that threatened to break my spirit. Yet, in those moments of apparent defeat, I discovered strength in the small things—the warmth of sunlight through my window, the laughter of friends, the comfort of family, the soothing words in a book, and the serenity of solitude. These small joys became my sanctuary.
Divorce, for many, signifies the shattering of a dream once painted with the hues of eternal love and commitment. Divorce is often seen as a relentless taunting, an unwelcomed detour from the envisioned path of marital bliss. But for me, divorce marked the end of a prolonged nightmare, the lifting of shadows that clouded my joy. It was a liberation from a relationship that no longer served me, that stripped away my essence and muffled my voice. A relationship that nearly killed me.
At one point in life, all I saw was my own pain, my own loss, my own broken pieces. But now, I see so much more for myself. Divorce was my passage through darkness, a gateway to a life reimagined where peace isn’t just a fleeting visitor but a constant companion. I refuse to let heartbreak be the defining moment of my life.
In my rebirth, I’m not just surviving; I’m thriving. With each day, I embrace the opportunity to smile because smiles shouldn’t be taken for granted, and it feels so damn good to smile again after being buried under the weight of unhappiness for far too long.
“Still smiling, huh?” Serena says softly, leaning across the counter. “Girl, you’re a better woman than me. If I were you, I’d be finding a way to make his life just as miserable as he’s made yours.”
A mischievous grin forms across Izzy’s face. “I can easily get my husband to hack into his computer and expose his deepest, darkest secrets.”
I shake my head, a dry laugh escaping my lips. “No! No revenge. No illegal activity. And no pettiness. I don’t have the energy to make anyone miserable. I barely have the energy to keep my head above water right now. Look,” I stare my overly protective friends directly in their eyes. “Cory may have taken my job, but he won’t take my peace. I’ll find something else. Something better.”
They all sigh, dramatic as ever, and toss their hands in the air while Izzy says, “Suit yourself. Be the bigger person. But let me tell you something, Kerry too damn Kind. If you don’t have another job by the end of summer, I’m pulling out all the stops.” She leans in close, narrowing her eyes. “Step one: viral social media post. Step two: hubby hacks into Cory’s accounts and finds every little dirty secret that slimy bastard’s been hiding. Step three: destroy his life.”
I shake my head and chuckle. “Or I can just continue to go to therapy. And not stoop to his level.”
“Fine! Do it your boring way.” Izzy tosses a peony stem into the trash, then pivots to face me with a smirk. “But seriously, what’s the worst that could happen? Cory deserves to be knocked off his high horse.”
“Well,” I say, leaning on the counter, “If I don’t find a new job soon, I might let y’all have your way for the entertainment value alone.”
Serena grins, satisfied. “That’s all we needed to hear. Now, go home, put your feet up, and get some rest. You’ll need it for this weekend. There will be a lot of thick pockets in the building, so you’ll either find your next employer or your next man.” She winks.
I laugh, “I doubt it’d be the latter. Remind me again why we have to dress up for this. It’s a flower shop opening, not a gala, for goodness sake!”
Because we aren’t in small town Beverly Mills anymore. This is a new city—Beverly Mills-Greer, honey. And in Greer, people dress up for everything. I bet if someone opened a freakin’ dog grooming salon, they’d show up in gowns. And if I’m not mistaken, there’s a grooming shop opening across the street!” Izzy laughs.
“And some fancy new restaurant opening right next door,” Serena says. “It’s time to get with the program, Kerry. You can make so many connections at the opening this weekend.”
“Good point,” I admit, glancing around at Izzy’s new shop. Its high ceilings, intricate crown molding, and delicate chandeliers cast soft, golden light across the room. The Beverly Mills girl in me screams that this is far too fancy to be a flower shop. But it’s certainly breathtaking. “Y’all are right. If the grand opening’s guests are anything like this shop, I need to have my resume on hand.”
Serena smirks. “That’s the spirit! And wear something elegantly sexy. As a matter of fact, I’ll drop off a few dresses. No one’s gonna hire you in that sweatshirt.”
Even the wealthy but modest Kiera agrees! “You do look like a straggler, Kerry. Why are you still dressing like we’re back in college? Our Clark Atlanta days are over. Are you really that broke right now?”
I glance down at what I thought was a comfy, cozy, and cute outfit—my ‘Cool Adults Read Books’ oversized sweatshirt, shorts, and Keds. “What’s wrong with this? I am an adult. I do read books. So, I must be cool.”
Izzy bursts out laughing. “Girl, you’d better get going before you embarrass me in front of my fancy new business neighbors. Go on now. Shoo!”
With a wave and a faint smile tugging at my lips, I grab my bag and head for the door as the cool floral scents of Izzy’s shop follow me out, a stark contrast to the stress tightening and simmering in my chest.
My best friends’ successes feel like a bright beacon against the backdrop of everything I’m fumbling to hold together. My entire group of friends is either thriving in their careers, enjoying being single and carefree, or settled down with a family of their own. While everyone’s life is on green, mine is red.
Growing up, my dreams always seemed to stretch just beyond my reach, like stars I could see but never quite touch. But at one point, we celebrated our milestones together—friends and family, all cheering each other on…until everything changed. Now, my achievements feel modest by comparison, like background noise in a room full of louder success.
I once ticked all the boxes: bachelor’s and master’s degrees earned, certifications in hand, a stable career, and even married my high school sweetheart. Cory seemed like the ideal partner back then—charming, driven, the kind of guy who made big promises and wore ambition like cologne.
But he revealed himself to be the kind of man who schmoozes his way to the top. A true pro at climbing ladders, even if it meant stepping on others to get there. He was a teacher, assistant principal, then principal, and now superintendent of the Beverly Mills-Greer school district.
His ambition didn’t just overshadow my aspirations; it swallowed them whole. Our marriage became collateral damage in his relentless pursuit of power, leaving me in the wreckage with nothing but regrets and what-ifs. His rise came at a cost, particularly to me.
Chapter 2
Unexpected Opportunities – Kerry
While pondering my questionable life choices and even more questionable taste in men, I finally pull into the driveway of my cozy three-bedroom home. I pause, letting my gaze settle on the small, weathered porch and the warm glow spilling from the front window. I’ve been back here for two years now, and it’s been… well, interesting, to say the least.
With a sigh, I grab my bag, unlock the door, and step inside, bracing for the usual chaos that comes with having roommates.
But instead, I’m met with an eerie stillness. A stillness that feels wrong.
My stomach tightens, a knot of unease coiling in my chest. That’s when I see it—a purse lying on the floor, its contents spilled out like someone had dropped it in a rush. My eyes shift to the hallway, where a vase lies shattered near the table, shards of glass catching the faint afternoon light.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Something’s not right.
My pulse spikes, and an icy surge of adrenaline rushes through me as I cautiously step forward. The house feels wrong. It’s too quiet. I think it’s… A break-in.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. “Hello?”
No answer.
I try to cover my deep breath when I hear faint rustling coming from the kitchen. I unlock my phone, my thumb hovering over the call button for 911, but before I can press it, a soft giggle floats through the air.
A giggle. A light, girlish giggle.
“Oh, James! You’re such a bad, bad man!”
The blood drains from my face. I know that voice.
With my heart thudding like a drum in my chest, I creep toward the kitchen. Each step feels heavier than the last. When I finally round the corner, I freeze, my brain struggling to process the scene in front of me.
My mom. My naked mom.
And my dad—just as naked.
They scramble like teenagers caught in the act, fumbling to cover themselves with whatever’s within reach. Whipped cream cans and half-melted dollops of cream clutter the counter like evidence at a crime scene. A crime against my entire existence.
“Oh. My. God.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “Mom! Dad! What the hell?!”
My dad, completely unbothered and barely concealed by a sad little dish towel, grumbles, “Aw, shit. The intruder’s home.”
I blink, stunned. “Intruder? I pay rent to y’all every month! At least call me a tenant!”
Okay. Pause. Yes, my parents are my roommates. Well… kind of.
My mom pulls on her robe with all the grace of a woman who’s completely unapologetic. She sucks her teeth, waving a dismissive hand at me. “Oh, Kerry. A hundred dollars is not rent, honey. And what’re you doing home so early? A woman can’t even get her rocks off in her own house without being interrupted. Did you get a job yet?”
“Grace, please,” my dad groans, tugging on his sweatpants with the urgency of someone who’s clearly not fazed by the trauma he’s inflicted on his adult child. “Our daughter’s job is to be a cockblocker.”
I gape at them, my brain short-circuiting. “Cockblocker? Dad, where’d you even learn that word? Y’all are unbelievable,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And who has sex in the middle of the day? You should be out playing golf or taking naps like everyone else your age.”
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