bChapter /bb120/bb: /bbLa /bbPOV /b

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    The words on the projector at the front of the lecture hall blur slightly as my professor rambles on about portfolio theory and risk tolerance. I nod along with my pen in hand as if I understand every word, but none of it sticks. Not really. My head is too full of everything else. Full of the past few days, and the way they folded in on themselves like puzzle pieces slowly snapping into ce.

    b55 /b

    It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m in myst ss of the week. The one where everyone’s either barely hanging on or already mentally checked out. The overhead lights are too bright for how little I care, and my chair is just ufortable enough to make me constantly adjust my position in it.

    I blink as the next slide slots into ce. Equity. Debt. Risk allocation.

    God, I used to love this stuff. But all I can think about is how this week nearly broke me, and

    somehow…it didn’t.

    Xavier took charge first. The moment I handed him those papers, he shifted into legal overdrive. His mentor, Selma Ortiz, had the injunction paperwork prepped by Wednesday morning. I signed them after breakfast at the kitchen counter with Xavier guiding my every step, his voice calm but firm. “Initial here. Sign here. This one’s going to get notarized.”

    He didn’t rush me. And he didn’t flinch when I asked seemingly stupid questions. He just…showed olliup. Every damn time. /li/ol

    Then he took them downtown himself, dressed in cks and one of his zer–hoodiebos, looking like someone who’d already won. And hot. It made him look so freaking hot. I had to stop myself from drooling when he came down the stairs.

    Hunter came with me to my shift at Beantree that same day. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t hover, but he posted up in the corner booth with hisptop and a coffee and stayed the whole time I was on the clock, so that I wouldn’t have to look up and see an empty room–his words, not mine.

    Cade made it his mission to make meugh every time I even hinted at spiraling. Tuesday night, when I came downstairs in the middle of the night for water and found him half–asleep on the couch watching reruns of some ridiculous prank show, he scooted over without a word and handed me the nket off hisp. We didn’t talk about thewsuit. We didn’t need to. He just made space for me. And for once, that was enough.

    AJ… AJ held me when my world had cracked open. There’s a piece of me still tucked against him from that morning in the shower. To his quiet strength, his steady hands, and his whispered promise that I didn’t have to hide. That I didn’t have to carry it alone. That I was safe.

    Chapter 120: La POV

    And since then, he’s been quietly orbiting me. Making sure my coffee never runs out, and checking in with a touch, a look, a kiss to my temple when I least expect it.

    Somehow, through all the chaos, they all kept me upright.

    b55 /b

    I let out a breath through my nose as I try to refocus on the lecture. The professor is gesturing at the screen, and his voice is a low monotone hum as he exins something about market vtility. My notebook now has more doodles than actual notes. A half a heart in the margin. A list of names. A single–word scribble: Fight.

    Because that’s what we’re doing: We’ve filed the paperwork. We’ve stalled the process for now. We’ve strategized extensively.

    We.

    For the first time in a very long time, it’s not just me on my own.

    A sharp trill breaks through the room’s soft murmur–someone two rows down on the other side of the ss’s phone is buzzing on a desk–and the professor pauses long enough to give the offender a pointed look, then he drones on again.

    I nce at the clock–five minutes to go.

    Around me, my fellow students are already beginning to shift in their seats, unzipping their backpacks, and capping their pens. The mood of the room lifts incrementally with each passing second. Friday freedom always seems to taste sweeter when the week has been hell.

    The final slide shes across the screen: ‘Assignment due on Monday. Don’t forget!‘

    The moment the professor dismisses us, I close my notebook, shove it into my bag, and then sling the strap over my shoulder. My legs are stiffb, /band my brain feels like it’s made of fog. But I made it. The week is finally done.

    I weave through the crowd toward the building’s front doors as thete afternoon sun spills through the hallway windows, warming the tile floors and painting gold lines across the stairwell. About three feet from the doors, I realize there’s a small buzz in my chest that I don’t expect–a flutter of something close to hope.

    As I step out of the building into thete afternoon light, I see him.

    Cade is leaning against the stone column just outside the building to my right, with his one ankle

    Chapter 120: La POV

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    b55 /b

    crossed over the other. He’s wearing a dark green zip–up hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to just below his elbows, a single delicate dandelion pinched between two fingers, and an iced coffee in his

    other hand.

    When he sees me, his face splits into that trademark grin of his that’s boyish and charming and ifull /i

    of mischief.

    “Sunshine,” he says when he’s within earshot, holding out the flower to me like it’s some kind of magical peace offering. “You survived your Friday sses. I’m impressed. Now I’m kidnapping you.

    Again. And you have no say in the matter.”

    The stic coffee cup gets thrust toward me as he tucks the flower behind my ear before I can even

    blink.

    And just like that, the heavy knot in my chest loosens. “Where are we going?” I ask, trying not to

    smile as wide as my heart feels.

    “Wouldn’t you like to know. Nowe on, I’ve got ns.”

    He then takes my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world,ces our fingers together, and

    leads me to where his truck is parked.

    And for the first time all week, I let myselfugh at his silliness.

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