Mag-log in(ARIELLE'S POV) They say graduation is a milestone. Personally, I think they just want an excuse to make six-year-olds wear polyester caps and parents panic over gift baskets. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself while burning my fingers on the tiny iron-on badge that said “Class of the Yea
The words barely left my lips before the tears did—slipping down my cheeks faster than I could stop them. Jared stood quickly, his hand reaching for my face. “Why are you crying?” I laughed—choked and shaky. “It’s nothing. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” My fingers trembled as I tried to wave it off
(ARIELLE’S POV) The celebration downstairs had barely ended when the crowd began to surge. Voices surrounded me—some calling my name with admiration, others offering business cards, invitations, flattery. Reporters waved microphones; investors hinted at million-dollar offers. Somewhere, someone
He approached her side quietly. "You look comfortable being the brightest star in the room, Miss Meyers," he murmured. She rolled her eyes, amused. "Don’t start. I already got three reporters asking if I’m the future Mrs. Smith. What’s funny is—I could’ve just said yes. I mean, technically, I am M
(AUTHOR'S POV) Another year had passed. Jared wasn’t the only one who forgot everything quickly. The whole world did the same thing. Just over a year ago, Jared Smith was still the unshakable CEO of the Smith Group—a name that once carried weight in every financial headline and luxury gala invita
(JARED'S POV) In the days that followed, I no longer recognized anyone or anything. There was just a feeling of emptiness and numbness that hung deeply inside of me. But there was a particular pretty woman who always visited. I wake up to find her in my room most mornings, and most nights she sits
I knelt down, bringing myself to his level, my heart hurting with so much love it felt like a physical pain. This was it, the moment I had been dreading, yet can't avoid. My four year old’s first encounter with the concept of loss and mortality. “Remember how we talked about Nana Jean being old and
(ARIELLE’S POV) I worked more intentionally in the days that followed. My life became a routine—a good routine. I moved between my restaurants for routine inspection and orientation of any new staff. I also made sure to be more present in Maverick’s life, documenting everything on the way for memor
(JARED'S POV) I left the hospital hesitantly, my mind hazy with worry. I was tired myself. I sat behind the wheel and looked into the rearview mirror. I let out a sigh and steered the car onto the road. I struggled to maintain my concentration as I drove. I resorted to driving slower than usual, a
“I won’t be long in the shower,” he promised as he dashed into the bathroom. I picked up my phone and found a couple of missed calls from Michael Langley. A little frown crossed my face until I realized he might’ve worried after checking on me at my suite. I didn’t owe him any explanations of cours







