Chapter 20

One and a Half Years Later

Dear Mom,

It's finally happening. The senior year Education Honors Program. I've worked so hard to get here. I know I'm lucky to have gotten in despite what happened at ULA. All the late nights and long weekends, spending my hours in the library instead of partying it up with friends have paid off.

I've never forgotten him, you know. Him. Ryland. Mom, when does the whirlwind end? When do I stop spinning? Why do I find myself still looking for his tall, dark shadow every time it rains?

Love, Millie

I stuff the letter and pen into my tote on top of the bench in our rooftop garden. The sun is in full blaze today and the air is muggy, even though I'm thirty floors above street level in the trendy SoHo apartment building Belle and I live in.

Wiping the sweat off my forehead with one hand, I pinch my navy NYUC T-shirt with the other and attempt to fan myself. It's useless against the heat of a New York summer day.

Blowing out a breath, I grab a handful of gummy bears from the open bag in my tote and stuff them into my mouth. I examine the planter full of geraniums in front of me, making sure the soil is evenly spread and sufficiently moist for the colorful blooms of magenta, purple, orange, and red.

It never ceases to amaze me how one type of flower can have so many colors. So vibrant, as if they have personalities of their own.

Mom would've loved our rooftop garden.

After I moved back to New York after spending a year at ULA, instead of living in the dormitories on campus at NYUC, I moved in with Belle instead. Her family bought her this beautiful apartment in SoHo, walking distance to shops, restaurants, nightlife, everything my family couldn't afford until Adrian struck gold in his business. Much to her chagrin, the apartment building doesn't allow for pets, which is her biggest regret about living in this spectacular space.

I finally told the girls about my relation to the elusive billionaire, Adrian Scott. Between how broken my heart was with the way things ended in Los Angeles and the incessant guilt loitering inside me, I couldn't keep this from them anymore. Deep down, I hoped they wouldn't look at me differently, and it turned out I was right. The girls rolled with the news like it was a weather report, making fun of me for being so secretive, then went right on with life. Nothing changed between us and for that, I'm thankful.

The best thing about this apartment building is this glorious rooftop space. Belle's family paid a premium for the exclusive use of the large rooftop area, which was barren and unassuming when I first moved in. But I saw the potential right away.

And so, I began spending hours cultivating a garden of my dreams, one I knew Mom would love if she were here. Thinking back to Mr. Roberts's words, this is a way for me to honor her, doing something she would've loved to do.

Standing back, I survey the multiple planters—large rectangular ones, smaller square boxes, thin rail planters, all filled to the brim with an assortment of flowers that bloom in the summer—geraniums, lavender, petunias, marigolds, and daylilies. The scent is heavenly, almost enough to cover the city smells of car exhaust from the street far below.

I also planted small trees of various heights and installed wooden trellises now filled to the brim with lush climbing vines. It helps mute the loud ruckus of cars, buses, and pedestrians, the classic New York City soundtrack.

This is my oasis in the city. A place where I can hear myself think. A place where I can get lost in memories of Mom, of the past…

Of him.

When I came back to the city after finishing my sophomore year at ULA, I tried looking Ryland up. I wanted to apologize again. I wanted to make him understand why I had to do what I did, why there was no other choice. I wanted to let him know the situation was like the ethical cases he taught and like the real world, not everything was black and white.

I wanted him to forgive me and look at me with heated passion in his slate eyes once more.

But it was near impossible to access the elusive billionaire, with his security team and the fortress at Fleur's headquarters or The Orchid.

I could ask Adrian to grant me a guest pass, but then I'd have to tell him, and even though Adrian had mellowed a little because he finally succeeded in getting revenge against our grandfather and he also got back together with the one woman he had never forgotten, Emily, one of Steven Kingsley's older sisters, there was no way I'd let my overprotective brother know I was half in love with my much older professor.

And so, I've been suspended in limbo, waiting for an opportunity, perhaps after my graduation when I'm no longer a college student. When I've redeemed myself. When we're no longer forbidden. But I miss him. Terribly so.

He felt like the warm, comforting sunlight, shining light into the dark corners of my heart. Even though I was pretty sure he couldn't see that about himself.

He still feels like the only person who has ever truly understood me.

But even as the chasm in my heart widened and darkened last year, my resolve strengthened. I couldn't let this derail my future, the one he left intact for me when he didn't report me to the school.

And so, with every waking moment, unless I'm in class or with my girls, I've dedicated myself to studying and working hard, hoping one day I'll be able to see him again and things will be different.

I have many regrets in life, but what I did in LA isn't one of them. At least Jocelyn is doing well now based on her email to me last week. Her mother passed away shortly after the quarter ended, but what I did saved both the mother and the daughter an additional heartbreak.

I would do the same thing all over again.

My phone beeps from an incoming text.

Belle

Step away from the plants, Millie. Step away.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead with my arm again and bite back a grin.

Millie

How do you know I'm in the rooftop garden?

Taylor

You're always there, and I don't even live with you!

Belle

What Tay said. I'm here to remind you to get your ass in the shower and get ready for dinner at Corazón. Reservation is at 7. We get to grill Grace about Steven! *snickers*

Taylor

That fucker. I can't decide if I've forgiven him yet.

Belle

Your doom and gloom lol. Get over it, Tay. It's true love. Even the blind can see that.

Grace

You know I'm in this group chat, right?

I giggle at the rapid-fire messages between my girls and quickly type in my response.

Millie

Fine. Fine. You got me. I'm going to get ready now. See you soon.

Two hours later, my stomach is filled with spicy tuna rolls doused in Valentina hot sauce from Mexico, my eyes watering and mouth flaming as I chase down the food with sake. I've come to realize, I'm drawn to things I shouldn't be attracted to, like flaming peppers which burn the roof of my mouth off or unapproachable, forbidden professors.

The mariachi band plays a lively tune in the background of this Mexican-Japanese fusion eatery in the bustling Chelsea Market, the restaurant packed to the brim with patrons enjoying Sunday night before the weekday grind begins anew tomorrow.

"So, I saw the cutest Pomeranian at the shelter going to his forever home yesterday," Belle exclaims, her voice filled with so much happiness. "I was worried about the little guy—I wish all shelters had no-kill policies."

Taylor nods. "I don't know how you do it, Belle, volunteering at those animal shelters. I may have a black heart, but even I can't take seeing these cute animals get euthanized if they don't get adopted."

In the last year, Belle has been spending her Saturdays at an overcrowded shelter in Brooklyn. It was her way of giving love to the less fortunate.

Belle's eyes well up. "That's why I do it. To help them find homes…as many as I can. Until I come into the rest of my funds, then I'll build my own no-kill shelter and move them there."

Grace sighs and pats Belle on the back. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're doing the best you can for those little guys."

I nod. Belle would adopt them all if she could, but the apartment has the strictest no pet policy. The woman has so much heart to give, I sometimes find it hard to believe she is from the upper crust society families typically more worried about the brand of clothing they wear than the plight of the less fortunate.

"It's not enough. They deserve more." Her voice is thick, her pale face flushed with emotions she rarely shows. She sighs and takes a large sip of water before turning to me. "Ignore me. Anyway, first day of senior year tomorrow for you. Excited?" She nudges me on the side.

I nod. "Yes, and no. I'm also nervous about the Advanced Ethical Leadership course. It's a special part of the honors program and will stretch from the summer quarter all the way until graduation next spring."

"That's a mouthful. Why are you nervous? You always do well in school." Grace pats her nonexistent stomach and stretches her hands above her head, her dark hair piled high into a messy bun.

"I heard it's tough and they're switching the curriculum this year…new professor, syllabus, everything. I feel like my life is a series of levels in a freakin' arcade game and this is the final boss I need to beat if I want to get into the PhD program of my choice. I've already submitted my applications early and I'll be a shoo-in if I pass this program. If I do well, I get to have my choice of schools."

"Fuck, girl. Only you'd willingly go to more school. That's shitty hard work." Tay scrunches her nose in distaste, her black nose ring glinting under the lamplight.

I laugh. "You're working your way up ABTC, the best ballet company in North America. You work harder than me." She's going to be one of the prima ballerinas in the industry in the next ten years, I know it.

Grace throws her arm around me. "You'll do great, and we'll be rooting for you." She gives me a cheerful grin before letting out a satisfied sigh. "Life will be great."

Tay snorts. "Everything is rainbows and roses to you right now, you love drunk fool. Steven will need to work harder to get back into my good graces."

"Hey! He had a very valid reason for leaving me."

"I can understand his reasoning, but that doesn't mean I forgive him for making you cry. He's lucky I got a few more family members out of this ordeal." Tay tosses back her sake in one gulp.

She and Grace recently found out they were related to the infamous Andersons, but before the revelation, Grace thought she was actually related to her boyfriend, Steven Kingsley. It nearly tore the lovebirds apart. It was a mess.

"It's all water under the bridge. We're together and happy now and I also got a bonus family out of it." Grace has hearts in her eyes as she no doubt thinks about her boyfriend.

The two of them are living their happily-ever-after after weathering their dramatic whirlwind of a romance, and I'm thrilled for them.

Whirlwind.

Dark eyes. Leashed power. Aching soul.

My heart clenches as I shove away thoughts of Ryland Anderson. I bite my tongue to avoid asking Grace and Taylor about him. I'm not ready to let them know yet. They see him regularly now at family dinners since he's their half-brother. After graduation, when I'm no longer a college student, I'll find him. We'll be on a more equal playing field then.

"I guess Grace won't be moving into our large house with fifty cats and ten dogs later on," Belle comments, humor in her voice. "Tay and Millie, it'll just be us three. Well…maybe…if I'm lucky."

She clears her throat and picks at a piece of lint on her cream-colored couture sheath dress, her modelesque posture hunching over briefly. Her dark eyes shutter before she forces out a fake smile.

"Never mind. Good luck on your first day tomorrow, Millie!" She raises her cup for a toast and I down the sake in one gulp, hoping the alcohol will settle my frayed nerves.

Wesley Hall is buzzing with commotion when I walk past groups of students chattering excitedly amongst themselves, hands gesturing wildly in the air. It's a small room with large windows on the top floor of the building and will be my home away from home in the honors program for my senior year. Frowning, I adjust my French braid over my shoulder and make my way over to Chloe, who's sitting in front of the room.

Strong arms swing me around in a brief circle. "Hey, Millie."

"Shit, you scared me!" I laugh, greeting my friend Fred Carias, who gives me a wink as he saunters to his seat.

We met last year in sociology when we were assigned to a group research project together. Shaking my head, I sit down next to my friend, Chloe Lee, who is Belle's cousin, in the front row of the room.

"I tell you, girl, that guy has a thing for you," Chloe murmurs, her thumb pointing discreetly toward Fred, who's chatting with his friends.

I snort. "No way. Fred and I are completely platonic. He's like a brother to me." If my brother were a harmless blond teddy bear and a ray of sunshine.

"I'm never wrong," she singsongs and grins gleefully, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

I glance at Fred, finding him smiling at me once more. I give him a tentative wave. It seems friendly. Too bad I don't feel anything for him, my heart long snagged by a certain tall, brooding man it can't seem to forget.

The excitement in the classroom rises an octave. Classmates are huddled over their phones and giggling at something on the screens.

"What on earth's going on, Chloe?"

Chloe waggles her brows and beckons me closer with her curled fingers. "Psst. Hot off the press. Marissa works at the back office, and she told Ally, who told Sandra the news. Apparently, the faculty adviser for the new Joint Ethics Advisory Program is the professor for this class. And guess who the professor is?"

"Who?" My heart suddenly kicks up a rapid beat. I can feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck, a harbinger of something monumental. A sixth sense.

"Eek! We're so lucky. The professor is—"

The door is thrown open and the world as I know it ceases to exist.

Because in steps someone I haven't seen in over a year and yet has haunted my dreams at night. The man I've compared all the interested guys to since him. The reason I'm still single, having only gone on two first dates in the last year and a half.

My breath catches in my throat as I'm rooted in my chair, a gasp tearing out of my lips.

You've got to be kidding me.

"Good morning, class, and welcome to Advanced Ethical Leadership, which will be combined with JEAP this year. I'm Professor Anderson and I—"

Ryland freezes when he sees me. His eyes widen in shock.

God, he has grown more handsome in the last year and a half, his presence larger, more encompassing. The sharp angles of his face are more pronounced. His normally clean-shaven jaw is covered in a short, sexy, meticulously groomed stubble, the perfect, perpetual five o'clock shadow. He's dressed in a slim navy suit, which encases his muscular body, a body which has grown bigger and stronger than I last remember. Those piercing eyes of his are twin flames of quicksilver.

My memory hasn't done them justice. I've forgotten the searing heat of his stare, the banked power in his eyes, and how it feels to bask in his attention. I've forgotten the way he sucks the oxygen out of a room with his presence and how the currents pulse between us whenever our gazes connect.

The same electricity crackles in the air now, and my heart skips several beats before sprinting in my rib cage. My hand flies to my chest, feeling the rapid thumping underneath my shirt. My face feels heated, my head heavy, as I stare at him.

Time has dulled nothing. The banked fire comes roaring back in an inferno.

The briefcase in his hand slips out of his grasp, clattering on to the floor, its contents spilling across the dark hardwood.

My heart hiccups. The reversal of the day we met at ULA when I was sprawled at his feet isn't lost on me.

The silence is loud as he glares at me, a myriad of indiscernible emotions flickering behind those passionate eyes. A chair scrapes across the floor, the sound slicing through the trance I find myself in. An awkward tension fills the room.

Ryland seems frozen in his steps, unable to move.

"What on earth?" Chloe breathes next to me as we stare at the imposing man, a picture of brimming power, who doesn't seem to notice the mess on the floor.

Unbidden, I leap out of my chair and kneel before him, helping him pick up his things from the floor—a black folio I recognize from ULA, a few pens, a slim laptop, and a—

I clutch the softness in my hand, my gaze darting up to him standing over me.

A navy, cable-knit scarf with a thick center twist.

My scarf.

It's summer though. Why is he carrying it with him?

"Ryland?" I whisper, gripping the scarf tightly in my hand. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine reuniting with him like this, once again in a professor and student capacity.

My voice jolts him out of his stupor. He quickly bends down and snatches the scarf out of my hands before stuffing it back into his briefcase. His face is flushed and his eyes skate over my face desperately, like he's been starving in the desert and I'm his first sight of food and water. Then, as abrupt as a sudden cold snap in the middle of summer, his eyes chill and his jaw flexes. His hands curl into fists.

Slowly, I stand up, my fingers twisting against each other, my pulse shaking in my ears.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Absolute chaos. Insanity.

"Ms. Callahan," his rasps, his voice thick and hoarse. "Please go back to your seat."

My legs trembling, I make my way back to my chair, my mind disoriented, my breathing rapid, like I've been hit with a blow to the head.

Or to my heart.

"What was that?" Chloe asks, "Do you know him?"

I stare at Ryland, who's stalking up the steps of the elevated stage, the intensity radiating off him like a category five hurricane, obliterating everything in its path, wreaking catastrophe in its wake…

Pulling me straight back into the eye of the storm.