Chapter 48

I scroll my phone, my fingers pausing on a photo of Ryland staring into the camera, his lips twitching into a smile as I pressed a kiss onto his cheek.

It was after one of our scenes at Noire and Ryland had just placed a special order for omelets and pancakes in a restaurant downstairs because I told him that was what I was craving, even though it was in the middle of the night. I leaped into his arms like a koala hugging a tree, one hand holding a cell phone.

"Say cheese," I whispered after going in for my sneak attack.

He chuckled, his arms automatically wrapping around my waist. "What's gotten into you?"

I took my photo and pulled back, smiling at him. "You're my snowy owl, you know? The powerful bird rarely seen but a sight to behold. I'm the lucky hunter who found one in the wild and I'm keeping him. Forever!" I peppered more kisses over his face.

"Is that right? A hunter, you say? What type of hunter kisses his prey instead of killing it?"

He hoisted me up and stared at me with so much love in his eyes, I could get drunk on his gaze.

"The smart kind, Ryland. A hunter who kills will have a meal or two, but I know better."

Leaning in, I kissed the corner of his lips, followed by a quick lick, relishing the way his breath hitched.

"My method is no less lethal. Death by a thousand kisses. That way, I have your heart and you'll never, ever leave me. My soul will always be full."

He slanted his head and sealed his lips with mine, his tongue swiping at the seam. "That sounds like one hell of a way to go," he rasped.

Curling my arms around his neck, I deepened our kiss, my hips moving over the outline of his hard cock pressing against his stomach.

"Again." I moaned.

"Are you sore?"

I shook my head, and he groaned in approval.

"Who's the best hunter, Ryland?" I whispered as he grunted between our fevered kisses, his feet already moving toward the master bedroom once more.

"Always you, little lark. Always you."

Tears cloud my vision as I trace his face in the photo. We were so happy then.

So happy.

My fingers fiddle with the jeweled key pendant around my neck. He hasn't asked for it back.

But he also hasn't contacted me since that day two weeks ago. All my calls, texts, and emails have gone unanswered. He has been placed on immediate administrative leave and disappeared without a trace. Another adjunct professor, a Professor Smith, is taking over the class and JEAP committee for the rest of the year.

The silver lining in this mess is, my classmates have been supportive, staunch defenders of me and Ryland to whoever approaches them. Even Pete Crosby had tried to comfort me earlier in class, and the damn bastard doesn't even like me.

The media have been reporting nonstop on the alleged illicit affair between the Prince of the USA and his much younger student. Sources come out of the woodwork, from classmates who have defended us, saying they have never seen Professor Ryland being anything other than professional to random Joes making up stories for a quick buck. Then, there's the news of Fleur Twilight's IPO being temporarily delayed for unknown reasons.

I swipe to another photo, this one of Ryland sleeping, a thick lock of dark hair covering his eye. The lines of his face softened; his lips curved into a small smile. He looked so much younger then, like the weight of the world was temporarily lifted off his shoulders.

God, I'm so worried about him. Everything he cares about—his family's reputation, the IPO, his dream of becoming a tenured professor—all up in smoke now.

He must be devastated.

I'm also angry at him. The boiling rage flares up at random moments in the day, invading the all-encompassing sadness. How dare he leave me after everything we've been through?How dare he leave me to deal with the fallout alone? How can he say he loves me but run away at the first sign of trouble?

I deserve more. I know I do.

Knowing him, he's probably blaming himself for everything, even if I was the one to push him into this relationship, the person who stupidly thought I could best the system and defeat the odds like Mom and Dad did a long time ago. But still, we entered the relationship together and we should deal with the consequences together.

The breeze from the opened windows of the apartment sifts to my face, and I belatedly realize my cheeks are wet.

But I still miss you so much.

My heart is heavy, the organ barely eking out the life-sustaining thump in the widening hole in my chest. The last two weeks have been a dark blur, one where I'd move through life like a robot, trying to put on a brave face so others around me wouldn't get worried.

I guess old habits die hard.

Ding dong.

Ignoring the doorbell, I stare at the clear blue skies outside our windows. A bright yellow bird flies by, singing a sweet song.

Ryland will know what bird this is.

Tears spring into my eyes again. Dammit. I swipe my cheeks, angry at myself again. I shouldn't miss him so much—he has walked away from this so easily. Why can't I do the same? Why won't my heart listen?

Ding dong.

"Open up, Millie! Tay is with me. Belle told us before she went to the office for her meeting that you had nothing scheduled today. She's on her way back now."

Thump. Thump.

They're knocking on the door now.

"Don't make me pick the lock, because I know how!" Taylor yells.

Staggering to my feet, I smooth my hands over my wrinkled pajamas and eye the empty bags of gummy bears in front of me.

I ran out of my stash of happiness.

A sharp pain lances my insides. Whoever said heartbreak is a physical affliction is correct.

"Coming," I holler before the girls really break down the door.

After fumbling with the lock, I open the door and Grace leaps across the threshold in a blur of white and wraps me in her arms. The backs of my eyes burn once more.

"We're here, Millie. You aren't alone." She holds me tightly while I shudder against her. "Cry it out."

"I'm going to ruin your sweater," I wail.

"Screw the sweater! I'll just get another one if it doesn't wash out."

"Aw, fuck." Taylor joins the group hug. "You look as shitty as him."

That got my attention. I pull back, not caring if tears and snot are all over my face.

The girls walk me back to the sofa and Grace gasps in apparent horror as she looks at the pigsty of snack wrappers and soda cans on the coffee table.

"Oh no, you poor thing." She flutters around the apartment, a determined glint in her eyes, and begins cleaning up.

I grab Taylor's wrist after we sit down. "You've seen Ryland? He won't pick up when I call. How is he doing? Is he okay?" Amidst the anger and pain inside me, my concern for him still apparently takes priority.

Taylor lets out a ragged sigh. "He has handed all his work to the others and doesn't leave his apartment. He hasn't shaved and is barely eating. I've talked to the others, and no one has ever seen him like this before. I think Gretchen and the staff practically have to force-feed him sometimes. And whenever we try to talk to him, he'll say everything is his fault and how he's the one to bring down our family."

She bites her lips and clasps my hands in hers. "But he misses you. I know it. He doesn't say anything, but whenever Grace and I talk about you, his eyes will brighten for a moment, like a spark flaring to life."

Grace traipses around the room, stacking loose sheets of papers into piles, placing all the wrappers, cans, empty cup noodle containers into a plastic bag before setting it on the floor. She hurries over and sits on the other side of me as the front door opens.

"How is she? If I didn't have that stupid meeting at the office today, I wouldn't have left her." Belle hurries over, shrugging out of her peacoat along the way.

"I'm fine, girls. Just heartbroken," I whisper, my voice unsteady. "Grace, now I know how you felt when you went through what you did with Steven."

"It was only a day for us, not weeks and not with the press breathing down our necks!" Grace mutters.

"I just miss him s-so much," I cry, my voice thickening, "and I'm so worried about him and so damn angry at the same time. Do you know teaching is his dream? That's the one thing he wants to do more than anything else in the world. It gives him purpose. And now, it's taken away from him."

I shake my head. "I should've stayed away. I don't know what I was thinking, believing we wouldn't get caught. And now, he lost everything because of me." I bury my face in my hands.

"It's not on you, Millie. How can anyone stop true love? That'd be cruel," Belle murmurs.

"I didn't know teaching was his dream," Grace whispers. "I always thought it was like volunteering for him. He never told us."

Sniffling, I look up and stare at the Peyton sisters. That stupid man. Keeping everything in his heart. Always the one to sacrifice for others around him.

"It is. He would've done it full time, and he had the opportunity before I came along and messed everything up. But the family trust…"

Grace and Taylor share a knowing glance. I guess their siblings have clued them in on this secret.

"He told you about the trust?" Grace asks.

I nod. "He didn't want everyone to lose everything because of him. But teaching is his lifeblood, the fuel driving him out of bed each day, his legacy, and now that's gone."

"What trust? What's going on?" Belle frowns, and I shake my head sadly at her.

"Sorry, Belle. That's not my story to tell." I've already said more than enough.

She nods, her eyes softening with understanding.

"So, what do you want to do?" Taylor asks. "Do you want us to take you to him? Or make him answer your call? 'Cuz I'll do it."

"No, I can't keep fighting for us anymore. I can't be alone in this, like how he has left me to deal with everything by myself." I look at Taylor, my hands fisted on my lap. "God, I'm so pissed at him, Tay. He just left. He didn't give us a chance to talk this through. Even if we were supposed to end, didn't I deserve closure? What the fuck is this?"

Taylor's face darkens and her eyes narrow. "That's it. I'm going over there and kicking his ass." She stands up and I pull her back down.

"You know, he knew this would happen, but I wouldn't listen to him. So, if he wants to pull away, it's his right. But still, couldn't we have at least talked about this? That's what mature people do, right?"

My heart pounds, each thump painful in my chest, and I struggle to get the next words out. "If w-we are meant to be together, he has to choose me for himself this time. I won't force him anymore."

I shake my head and Taylor folds me in her arms. Closing my eyes, I whisper, "But I can't let him lose his dream over this."

My lips tremble and I let out a rough exhale.

I need to set him free.

It's the right thing to do. I feel it deep inside my soul. Despite my fury toward him, my love for him is too deep and I can't bear to see him languishing away after watching everything he cares about getting destroyed in front of him.

I pull back from Taylor's embrace and look at my girls, my hand gripping my shirt. "He has been living for everyone else around him, but he's dying inside. Ryland deserves to have his dream. He deserves to be happy. Despite his issues, he's a good man."

"Ryland is so lucky to have you." Grace's eyes mist with moisture.

"Fucking lucky bastard," Taylor agrees.

We fall silent as I blot out my tears with a tissue. I've had two weeks to mope around in my apartment as my life burns up in flames around me. It's time to stop and get my ass back up from the floor.

As much as I know the hole in my chest will never heal, the waves of agony destroying everything in its path, I need to put one step in front of the other, to move toward a future that now seems so uncertain and gray.

Mr. Roberts's words echo in my mind. Even if the road is hard and the skies are gray, you're bravely walking forward, one step at a time, and one day, you'll find yourself on top of the mountain, the sun shining on your face, and you'll look down and be amazed at how far you've climbed.

Yes, I'll scale this mountain if it's the last thing I do.

"Don't you have the meeting with the dean soon, Millie? What are you going to do then?" Belle asks.

"I'm going to save Ryland from himself."