Chapter 53

Cheers and applause erupt on the trade floor as Rex presses the green button to ring the infamous bell on the bell podium of the New York Stock Exchange. I smile, watching the live streaming of this monumental event on my phone as I sit in my town car heading toward Millie's apartment. This marks the successful initial public offering of Fleur Twilight as our stock goes live in markets, the goal we've been working toward for the last several years.

Rex laughs, excitement rolling off him in waves, and hugs my other siblings, minus Maxwell, because, true to form, he's avoiding the crowds and celebrating in the privacy of the estate, no doubt surrounded by paintings and listening to opera. My mind flits to the conversation I had with Rex last night.

"You aren't going to the ceremony?" Rex asked, his eyes widening in shock. "And you want me to ring the bell?"

I nodded. "I'm going to Millie's. I always go to her place every morning, and tomorrow will be the same."

"But it's the IPO! The thing you've worked your ass off for the last few years!"

I swallowed and shook my head. It was a pity how this realization came much too late. "Nothing is more important than her."

Rex looked at me with sympathy in his eyes. "Got it. Go get her. I hope she opens the door this time." He suddenly grinned and pumped his fists in the air. "Yes! Finally time for Mr. Sexy Anderson to shine."

I chuckle under my breath as I turn off the screen of my phone and look outside the windows, watching the throngs of tourists walking excitedly on the sidewalks.

The city brims with liveliness—from hot dog stands lining up street corners, couriers breezing by on their bikes. Businessmen frown at their phones as they stride down the sidewalk, weaving through crowds of people like second nature.

The city has a pulse of its own and for the first time in a long time, I feel the resonating beats inside me. But there's a gaping hole nothing can fill.

Millie.

I miss her so damn much.

As Lana predicted, once I flew back to New York after my brief hunting trip last week and met with Maggie for a follow-up interview to reiterate pretty much everything Millie had told her before, the paparazzi moved on to other topics and scandals.

Then, I got swept up in the madness of last-minute IPO preparation—board meetings, investor conferences, discussions with the underwriting banks and other top executives in the company.

But despite that, when I wasn't working or putting out fires, my mind was filled with memories of her. The woman who saved my career, my path to tenure, my dreams, my family's reputation, everything I thought I cared most about but now realize pales compared to her.

I've called Millie every night after dinner, but she hasn't picked up. My messages are left unanswered. I've visited her every morning before work, but each time, Belle will open the door, give me a sad smile, and say, "She needs some time. I think you owe her that, don't you?"

It's fitting—to experience a small fraction of what she must've endured the last month, when I thought I was saving her but was hurting her instead.

My phone chimes and my hand flies to my suit pocket to take it out, eager to see if it's her.

But it isn't. It's only an email from Jacob.

Ryland,

Because of the high profile of your family, the Ethics Committee expedited your case and after reviewing our multiple interviews with Millie Callahan and yourself, examining her transcripts and work products from your class, and also considering the public interviews you both made, they decided no transgressions occurred and your honorary doctorate and tenure track would still stand.

However, it may take you one to two more years of exemplary behavior before you're officially nominated for tenure. Take the summer off and we'll talk before fall quarter begins.

Regards,

Jacob

His email is quickly followed by a text from his personal number.

Jacob

I can't say this over university email, but son, please, for fucking sake, if you decide to pursue a relationship with Ms. Callahan, wait another month, will you? Let's put this to bed before you give me another headache.

My lips twitch into a smirk as I imagine the number of new white hairs I've given the poor man. Then, an anchor drops on my chest. Regret, my new best friend, makes a reappearance.

Ryland

Thank you for everything, Jacob, and I'm sorry for everything I've put you through.

I know apologies are insufficient as I make amends with everyone I've disappointed. But I'm no longer a coward, no longer only mired in my misery so much I'm blind to other people's pain.

I'm going to face the consequences—the good, the bad, and everything in between.

A sigh escapes my lips and I swipe to the social media post I uploaded to my account last night. It's a photo of the western meadowlark perched on a branch.

I can't name her or broadcast my love for her so blatantly, because it'll unravel everything she, my family, and the dean have done to save my career. But I hope she sees my daily posts and knows they are for her.

I'm no longer hiding, and she won't be in my shadows anymore…if she'll still have me.

Ryland.Anderson.Official: Dear Little Lark, I miss you and I'm sorry. I wasn't the man you deserved to have by your side. But I'll do better. And if you have it in your heart to speak to me again, I'll be here waiting for you.

Thump. Thump.

Clutching the small pot of flowers in one hand, I knock on Millie's door with the other and steel myself for another rejection, but I'm not giving up. Not anymore.

Muffled sounds of the IPO press conference on the television travel through the door. Someone is home.

Thump. Thump.

I knock again in case whoever is in there doesn't hear me the first time.

The television turns off and a heavy silence blankets the air.

She's there. I can feel her. I'm as sure of it as I am of my name.

"Millie?" Leaning my forehead on the cool door, I close my eyes. Sorrow lances through my insides, and my chest twists in pain. "Little lark, you're there. I know it. I can feel you."

More silence greets me and the vise around my heart tightens. I place my palm on the door, wishing I could turn back time, undo the damage I've done, and take back the heartache I've caused her.

"Please don't tell me I'm too late," I rasp. "Please, Millie. I was an idiot. A miserable, pathetic idiot. I know I don't deserve a second chance from you, but I'm asking for one, anyway. Please don't turn me away."

A few seconds pass by—a heavy, aching silence. Then, a soft sob travels through the door and I hear the clicking of the lock disengaging. The door slowly swings open and Millie stands before me, her eyes bloodshot, her nose tipped red, her hair haphazardly piled in a bun on top of her head.

She is still the most breathtaking woman I've ever beheld.

Gripping the flowers tightly in my hands, I stand before her and fight every impulse, every clamoring and desperate need inside me to haul her into my arms, to kiss her a thousand times, and to apologize for every tear I've caused her to shed.

Then, I want to repeat the process again.

"Ryland." My name comes out in a breathy whisper. "Aren't you supposed to be at the IPO press conference?" Her lips wobble and I feel her agony like a gut punch.

"Nothing is more important than you, Millie. What can I do to win you back?" My nose burns and my voice thickens. "P-Please. I'll do anything."

Her shoulders slump, and she shakes her head sadly. "I don't know. I-I'm scared, Ryland. My heart hurts so much because you left me when things got rough. You didn't talk to me; you didn't give us a chance to decide together. You took that decision away from me."

A sharp flash of pain strikes me in the chest at her words—too much regret and far too late to matter.

"I love you, Millie."

She flinches and wraps her arms around herself. Taking a deep breath, she looks up and stares at me with those beautiful, startling blue eyes. "I love you too, Ryland. I don't know if I'm even capable of falling out of love with you."

My heart stirs and my fingers dig harder into the ceramic pot as my body fills with desperation and trepidation.

"But how do I know if this isn't another impulse for you? Like how it was when we first got together at Noire, when I all but f-forced," her voice chokes up, "you into that position. I made an offer you couldn't refuse. What if things get rough again? How will I know you won't run away once more?"

"Millie, that's different, that's—"

She shakes her head vehemently. "Perhaps for you, it's different right now. After all, the obstacles you were so afraid of before were cleared…just as I predicted all along. But life is full of hurdles. Tomorrow, it may be something else. And my heart," she jams her index finger to her chest, "can't take any more of this pain. I've already lost too much, and I don't want to love another person just to lose him again later on."

She shrinks back into her apartment and my pulse clamors inside my ears. I'm losing her.

"Millie, please," I plea, my voice hoarse. I reach for her, but she holds out her hand to stop me. "Please give me another chance."

"I-I…I need to know you're sure of this, of us this time. Right now, my heart is filled with doubt."

She lets out an anguish-laden sigh. "I know that's not what you're looking for, but I can only tell you the truth. I'm sorry, Ryland."

Glancing away, I blink my eyes rapidly, attempting to dispel the burning sensation behind them.

I turn back to her and say, "Time will tell you the truth. You'll see. This isn't an impulse for me. You and I…it's the only thing I'm sure of, right down to the marrow of my bones."

Millie gives me a sad smile and backs into her apartment. "Goodbye, Ryland."

She begins to shut the door, but I stop her. I hand her the flowers. "At least take these. Pasque flowers. Your favorite. Maybe you can keep them along with the daffodils I got you yesterday. They'll thrive under your care, just like my heart beats only for you. I won't ever stop. I'll be back tomorrow."

She glances at the pot of purple flowers, her eyes shining with tears, and closes the door behind her.

The vise around my heart cinches and tightens, the pain so eviscerating I lean against the door for support. But minutes later, a renewed energy courses through my veins as I realize I have a lifetime to prove my love to her. If she still loves me, I still have a chance, and this time, I'm not letting her go.

I'm going to show her the surety of us, our destiny written in the storms, blossoming under the sun.

This is not a goodbye. You'll see, Millie. You'll see.