"She's not my concern at all," I say curtly.
"Then why ask about her?"
"Is it a fucking crime to be curious?"
"No, of course not." The calmness of her tone brings me back to my senses, but before I can force myself to apologize, Ms. Cavendish is already speaking again. "But what is a crime is seeing you like this, Mr. Stanford. Must I remind you that you were the one who broke up—-"
"There was nothing to break up," I say tonelessly. "We weren't in a relationship—-"
"Weren't you?"
"She's eighteen," I grate out. "Eighteen, Ms. Cavendish."
But Nic's secretary only raises a brow. "And?"
"And I'm thirty fucking three years old!"
"Old enough to be her father," she remarks coolly, "just like my boss once told you, yes?"
"Exactly," I snarl. "That's exactly the reason I chose to stay away—-"
"For her sake?"
"Yes, dammit."
Ms. Cavendish studies me in silence. "Are you truly sure of that, Mr. Stanford? Are you certain that you chose to stay away for her sake...or did you choose to stay away because you'd rather break Scarlett's heart before she breaks yours?"
I feel myself whitening at her words, and I'm unable to speak.
"One reason speaks of love," Ms. Cavendish murmurs, "while the other only speaks of selfishness and fear. I only hope you're doing what you're doing for the right reasons."
Scarlett
Finishing school is boring, but it's the price I have to pay, just so my mother would stop thinking I'm about to kill myself at any moment.
My mom is usually a nag, but the day I came home to her in tears, she didn't ask a single question. She was simply there for me, day after day, and it was only when I saw her secretly crying over the phone while speaking to Uncle Nic...
That's when I realized my mom was hurting, too.
I told her the next day I was ready to go to finishing school, and since then I've made sure to regularly update my socials, just to keep my mom from ever worrying about me again.
It's always been my mother's dream to attend a finishing school, but that dream crumbled into dust the moment she became pregnant with me at eighteen.
Since then, she's always been on my back about it, and well...finishing school might not be for me, but at least by coming here to Switzerland I'm able to kill two birds with one stone.
Firstly: my mom is finally able to realize her dream through me, and secondly, it gives me a legit reason to put as much distance between Slater and me.
It's been six weeks since I last saw him, and I really thought I would've been long over him by now.
But I'm not.
Far from it, actually.
I still think about him all the time. I still miss him like crazy, and I hate myself for it because I know it's obviously not the same for him.
Ever since coming here, I've had boys my age constantly asking me out.
Boys who are attractive and sexy...
Boys who used to be my type, but—-
I ended up turning down all of them.
Those boys should've made it easier for me to forget him, but if anything, every time one of those boys tries flirting with me, it just reminds me of how much I've changed.
Of how much he's changed me.
Boys are just boys to me these days.
What I want now is a man.
A real man.
And I did find such a man, once upon a time.
It just sucks that same man couldn't love me back.
ANOTHER DAY COMES TO an end. It's been a lazier Sunday than usual, and I've spent most of my time just riding my bike around town, stopping only to grab some food from a local cafe or bakery.
The sun has started to set by the time I'm pedalling up the school's main driveway, and I'm almost at the top when I notice a familiar figure standing by the gates.
He has his back turned to me, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and his hair...is a rich shade of chocolate.
I hit the brakes hard, and my bike screeches to a stop.
The sound causes a flock of birds to fly right past me, and I'm momentarily distracted as I nearly fall off my bike. By the time I manage to get off and remember to look up, that's when I see him already staring at my direction—-
Slater.
It really is him, and he looks so much more beautiful than I allowed myself to remember.
Slater.
He seems to have lost a bit of weight, and his silvery gaze appears haunted. I wish I could reach out to touch him, just to make sure he's real...but I'm scared if I do, he'll end up vanishing...or worse, he'll end up rejecting my touch.
I've dreamt of Slater night after night, but I never once thought I'd see him here.
And now that he's standing right in front of me—-