Chapter 46

Dear Ryland,

Tell me, why are you pulling away again? I feel the distance growing more between us; I see the walls you're trying to build back around your heart. When I ask you to meet, you say you're busy. You say it's the IPO, the effects of working two full-time jobs. The shadows under your eyes worry me, but you tell me everything is fine. But you forget, I can read you as well as you read me.

Don't you know you're hurting me? I lay awake at night missing you and angry at you at the same time. I'm not a quitter, but you make it so damn hard for me and it frustrates me to no end.

Don't you see? We are meant to be. And perhaps I'm as stubborn as you, because even though you make me furious at times, I'm going to change your mind, because I know you love me. After all, you gave me your mom's pendant.

We may not have all the answers yet, but with a love like ours, we are written in the storms, and I'm sure at the end of it all, there'll be a beautiful rainbow and sunny skies.

I miss your kisses. I miss your touch. I miss you.

Love, Millie

"CLASS, IT HAS BEEN an absolute honor teaching you this year. I know it's only the beginning of February, and we still have spring quarter left, but I just want to get that off my chest," Ryland says, his voice sullen, in front of the classroom at another JEAP committee meeting.

His shoulders look extra rigid today, and a heaviness blankets his frame. He runs his fingers through his tousled hair, rendering it into an unkemptness rarely seen from the Prince of the USA. The man I love is miserable and struggling, and I'm helpless to stop it.

He has been avoiding me after class now, and I can count with one hand how many times I've had his lips on mine in the weeks that have passed since New Year's Day.

An anvil sits on top of my chest, and I sit up and twist my lips in what I hope is a convincing smile. I will not let him break me.

His eyes catch mine, the intensity in them almost stifling, and the only acknowledgment to my reassuring smile is a harsh swallow, his muscles rippling in his throat.

"I've submitted our final recommendations to the Ethics Committee for Professor Archer and Tammy's case. You've made a sound argument against punishment for them. After all, they appear to be victims of unfortunate circumstances."

His penetrating gaze is unwavering on mine. "Whatever happens, know that you've tried your best, and in the end, that's what matters. The committee will make a decision soon and it's out of our hands now."

Ryland walks around the podium so he's standing closer to us. To me. His shirtsleeves are rolled up, and he releases a haggard sigh. I smell the familiar scent of his cologne and a piercing want spears through my chest.

In the classroom full of people, he still appears as alone as that first day when I saw him standing in the rain.

A lonely silhouette carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But I am here, Ryland. You aren't alone anymore.

The weight sinks deeper inside me, and I bite my lip to contain my emotions. I wonder if my efforts are useless, hurling pebbles against a steel wall.

But my heart won't let me quit him. But do you really want to quit him?

Deep down, my answer is no. But I also know I deserve more, like he told me before. I deserve to be loved without reservations.

But seeing him so anguished in front of me, I want to hold him in my arms and hear the reassuring thumps of his heartbeat. I want to whisper in his ear he no longer needs to carry his burdens by himself because I can share the weight with him. If only he'll just let go of these invisible chains he has clasped tightly in his hands.

His gray eyes linger on me before his jaw flexes, and he looks away.

"In the past year we've spent together, I've seen you grow. I've witnessed the brilliance in your theories and arguments, the thoughtfulness in your responses. And I'm proud of you for being part of my legacy. Perhaps this is one final lesson—sometimes, the real world doesn't see our efforts and the truth in our arguments. Politics, optics, and many other factors are in play. But remember your heart even when the real world closes in, even when you're forced to accept reality. You've tried your best and sometimes," he pauses, his eyes meeting mine. "Sometimes, some things aren't meant to be."

Ryland's passionate gaze brims with unsaid emotions. His words reverberate in my ears and I feel a burning sensation behind my eyes.

No, I refuse to accept that.

The classroom is silent. I shake my head.

No, I don't accept this reality.

I don't—

Bam!

The doors swing open and suddenly, we're blinded by flashing bright lights, followed by a stampede of random outsiders into the room.

"There she is! Over there!"

By the time the dots disappear from my vision, I find several men and women crowding in front of me, cameras and microphones thrusted at my face. What the fuck is going on?

"Ms. Callahan, what is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Anderson?"

"We just received a photo from an anonymous source showing Mr. Anderson carrying a woman who resembled you in the halls of The Orchid. You had scrapes over your legs and arms. Was he abusing you?"

"Ms. Callahan! Ms. Callahan, how long has this been going on?"

"I have it on good authority you two were in a scene at a primal kink club. Is that true?"

"Weren't you already his student at the time?"

"Do you think you're above reproach because you're Adrian Scott's sister?"

My heart drops to my stomach as nausea roils inside me. No, they found out. Despite all our efforts, they still found out about us. I had hope… God, I was so stupid.Shit. What do I do?

My pulse races in my ears as I angle my head and try to find Ryland past the wall of people in front of me, only to see more paparazzi gathered around him. He throws a swing at a reporter in front of him, his eyes frenzied as he tries to break through his barricade to reach me.

"Let go of her, you creep!" Chloe tries to peel off a reporter who has his hand clamped onto my forearm.

Chaos erupts in the classroom, and I hear chairs dragging over the floors, shouting as classmates come to my aid. I hear Fred yelling something like, "Security is coming, assholes. Get the fuck out of here!"

"Ms. Callahan!"

More bright white flashes. More noise. More everything. I want to move, to escape, to fight back, but panic claws my insides and I'm frozen in fear.

"Ms. Callahan, answer our questions! Are you trying to sleep your way to an A?"

My breathing quickens, the seconds feeling like hours, and I find myself mute, unable to speak, unable to move, a literal prey frozen in front of the dangerous predators in front of me.

Move, Millie. Get out of here. What are you doing?

But my body won't cooperate and sweat trickles down my back as desperation kicks in. I need to get out of here. I need them to leave me alone.

I need him.

My breathing turns rapid, my lungs trying but failing to get in the much-needed oxygen. I curl over my desk, my hands covering my ears. There's a loud ringing in my ears that won't stop.

Too much noise. Too many lights. Too many questions.

The door swings open again and campus security marches in with batons and handcuffs. Someone yells something about this being a private institution and the press is banned on campus.

The next moments are a blur of fragments and echoes.

The paparazzi being dragged out of the classroom and dealt with.

A tall man saying he's the dean and class is dismissed.

Chloe shaking my shoulder, asking me if I'm okay.

My mind is sluggish, my brain still trying to catch up to the insane events. My lungs attempt to draw in air, but it feels like I'm drowning in front of everyone.

Suddenly, a strong hand clamps my wrist and drags me up from my chair. My muscles finally wake up and I fight and claw at my assailant before the whiff of pine trees and citrus wafts to my nose.

Looking up, the ringing in my ears slowly subsides until all I can hear are the sounds of my heart racing.

Ryland looms before me. Tall, strong, powerful.

He's not even human. He's a god.

Jocelyn's words float to my consciousness and an inappropriate giggle bubbles up my throat. I'm losing it. Everything fades away. I rake in a ragged inhale, my first full breath since our world fell apart.

I'm okay, Ryland. I'm okay. It was only a panic attack. I'm fine.

My lips tremble before tipping up into a smile.

He lets out a low growl, as if he doesn't believe me. His red tie is askew, his face flushed, his hair even more disheveled than before. A vein pulses angrily on his forehead. His eyes are wild, fevered with anger, desperation, vengeance, and more emotions than I can name.

Before I can say anything, he crushes me against him and wraps me in the safety of his embrace.

My body relaxes as I burrow myself automatically into his warmth and surround myself with his masculine scent.

"Ryland," I whisper into his chest.

Wordlessly, he drags me out of the room in full view of everyone.