LOGIN(RORY’S POV)
My sister, Rosalie’s voice was the first thing that popped up in my head. This fabric is perfect for the weather. I guess she did not expect me to practically get drenched in punch. Because now, i am thinking, of how unfortunate I am to be wearing this! Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the intense gazes of everyone in the room and there’s no way to express how humiliated I feel right now. My top felt plastered to my skin and looking down made me see how scandalous my boobs looked now in this drenched situation. Wine is still dripping from my hair down to my body and I feel very queasy all over a sudden. I heard Todd mutter a string of profanities as he caught me and wrapped me swiftly with his large leather jacket. “What the fuck, Leslie? How dare you!” He roared angrilly. “Please don’t fight.” I manage to say but Todd had my face pressed to his chest. He was protecting me from everything and everyone. A normal Todd thing to to. In one moment, he had carried me in his arms and had now risen to his feet. “How dare you!” He growled and I heard someone gasp. Todd sounded very angry, I sneaked a peak and his veins were throbbing. I swallowed and stole a glance at Leslie. My guess is that she is the one who gasped because her eyes are widened at Todd in surprise at his reaction. And then like a button was pushed, she snapped at him immediately . “How dare she! How dare this damned geek kiss my own boyfriend! How dare she have her socially nonexistent lips on my own boyfriend’s lips! I don’t care if anyone had to walk naked!” She screeched angrilly . There was a strong silence after her loud voice , then all eyes turned on Todd as if awaiting his reaction. He was simmering in anger. I could practically feel the growl from his inner tummy. I held on to his jacket tugging slightly to catch his attention. “It’s okay, Todd. It’s okay.” I begged. My voice was low and shaky but Todd seemed to have heard me clearly because his head snapped towards me immediately. Something in hin seemed to soften immediately as he stared down at me and then he gave a glare at Leslie before spinning around with me. I dared to look at the crowd watching us as he walked away but then I quickly closed my eyes. Everyone had been watching like a movie was playing and they even had their phones held up at us. The silence, made me realize, despite my alcohol infused state, that I had become the object of ridicule in this party. Leslie had dumped a whole bottle of wine on me for kissing her boyfriend who also happened to be my best friend. “Hey Todd, wait Up! You’re my ride!” I heard someone call from behind us accompanied by fast approaching footsteps It was Laurel. Todd said nothing. He just kept on moving in such fast strides that even though my eyes had been closed, it was no surprise when we got to the car quickly. Todd balanced me carefully as he opened the door to the backseat, then he placed me at the back laid down like a baby. He lingered above my face, his beautiful blue, concerned eyes searching my face. It felt like I had lost the ability to speak. I just stared, tongue tied at his beautiful face so close to mine and the kiss replayed in my head. Then he leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead. I was unable to stop myself from letting a gasp escape from my lips. There were a thousand butterflies in my tummy. But Todd didn’t seem to hear me gasp, he was busy being too guilty. “I’m so sorry, Candy. For everything tonight .” He murmured, his lips still hovering around my forehead. I craved for his lips to go down, to my lips, or maybe my neck….I know I should be thinking of the fact that Leslie had humiliated me and sent me a pack full of eye daggers as Todd and I left the party. But all I can think about is that Kiss! His tongue in mine, his lips against mine…. Todd withdrew and my stomach clenched in disappointment. Maybe I should have kissed him? But then I was reminded of why that was a bad idea…… “Is she passed out?” Laurel asked opening the door on the other end. “No but she looks like she will soon be. I think she is shaken by everything.” He said and I could feel the sadness in his voice . “Poor Rory.” I heard Laurel say. I want to tell Todd not to worry about me but then something pulls me back. I feel lazy and too relaxed, My eyes begin to feel heavy. I can hear Todd and Laurel conversing. Todd tells him to sit at the backseat and make sure nothing happens to me. I want to tell Todd that I want him beside me, Not Laurel. I want him to hold me, to kiss me…. But I know a loss when I see one. And I can tell that my body is about to give in, even though all I want to do is replay that kiss over and over and…………The lawsuit’s withdrawal didn’t bring silence. It brought a different kind of sound. The world, having failed to reclaim Todd through legal force, began to whisper. The story, polished and re-framed, seeped out—not as a tale of corporate defeat, but as a curious footnote in business journals: “The Quant Who Grew Figs.” Eleanor, it seemed, had talked, her silk blouse stained with more than just fruit. The image of the former high-frequency trading phenom, handing out figs in a greenhouse while wearing a sleeping infant, proved strangely compelling to a culture weary of its own abstraction.The first letter arrived on thick, artisanal paper. It was from a lifestyle magazine, requesting a “photo essay.” Then came the email from a tech visionary wanting to discuss “bio-integrated systems.” A documentary filmmaker left a voicemail, her voice hushed with reverence. They all wanted a piece of the parable. They wanted to stand in the humidity, to taste the fig, to briefly borrow the terrifyin
The transition from a biological future to a biological reality occurred at three in the morning, under a moon that turned the greenhouse glass into a sheet of frosted silver. Rory arrived not with the sharp, clinical efficiency of the world Todd had abandoned, but with a primal, messy urgency that defied any projection. When the first cry finally broke the stillness of the nursery, it didn't sound like a disruption; it sounded like the final piece of the garden’s ecosystem clicking into place.By the time Rory was three months old, the "learning garden" Todd had built was no longer a theoretical project. It was a lived-in landscape. Todd moved through the greenhouse with the baby strapped to his chest in a dark canvas carrier, the infant’s head bobbing against the rhythm of Todd’s heartbeat. The high-frequency trader who once calculated risks in milliseconds now spent forty minutes explaining the architecture of a single nasturtium leaf to a human who couldn't yet speak."Look at the
The transition from a biological future to a biological reality occurred at three in the morning, under a moon that turned the greenhouse glass into a sheet of frosted silver. Rory arrived not with the sharp, clinical efficiency of the world Todd had abandoned, but with a primal, messy urgency that defied any projection. When the first cry finally broke the stillness of the nursery, it didn't sound like a disruption; it sounded like the final piece of the garden’s ecosystem clicking into place.By the time Rory was three months old, the "learning garden" Todd had built was no longer a theoretical project. It was a lived-in landscape. Todd moved through the greenhouse with the baby strapped to his chest in a dark canvas carrier, the infant’s head bobbing against the rhythm of Todd’s heartbeat. The high-frequency trader who once calculated risks in milliseconds now spent forty minutes explaining the architecture of a single nasturtium leaf to a human who couldn't yet speak."Look at the
The transition from a biological future to a biological reality occurred at three in the morning, under a moon that turned the greenhouse glass into a sheet of frosted silver. Rory arrived not with the sharp, clinical efficiency of the world Todd had abandoned, but with a primal, messy urgency that defied any projection. When the first cry finally broke the stillness of the nursery, it didn't sound like a disruption; it sounded like the final piece of the garden’s ecosystem clicking into place.By the time Rory was three months old, the "learning garden" Todd had built was no longer a theoretical project. It was a lived-in landscape. Todd moved through the greenhouse with the baby strapped to his chest in a dark canvas carrier, the infant’s head bobbing against the rhythm of Todd’s heartbeat. The high-frequency trader who once calculated risks in milliseconds now spent forty minutes explaining the architecture of a single nasturtium leaf to a human who couldn't yet speak."Look at the
Six months had passed, and the physical world seemed to bend toward the life we were creating. Todd’s transformation was no longer a headline or a corporate rumor; it was written in the callouses on his palms and the way he moved through the humid air of the sunroom. The man who once obsessed over quarterly earnings and high-frequency trading now spent his mornings in the north corner of the greenhouse, where the wisteria—now reinforced with reclaimed steel—dripped like purple waterfalls. He was building a "learning garden" within the glass walls: low-set planters at a toddler’s height, filled with sensory herbs like lamb’s ear and lemon balm. He didn’t hire a contractor; he spent his days hand-planing cedar, his movements guided by a seasonal patience that the digital world could never replicate.The peace was briefly interrupted on a humid Tuesday when a sleek black sedan crawled up the gravel driveway, kicking up dust that settled on the lavender. Out stepped Marcus, Todd’s former
The fog that had once symbolized uncertainty was now just a natural part of the morning ritual, rolling off the hills to dew the glass of the massive, wrap-around greenhouse that had swallowed the original sunroom.Three years had passed since the "Greenhouse Effect" became more than a metaphor.I stood by the potting bench, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine. My hands were deep in a mix of peat and perlite, but for the first time in my life, the tactile grounding of the soil wasn't working. My stomach felt like it was doing a slow, rhythmic roll—a motion that had nothing to do with the swaying of the ferns above me.The house was no longer a corporate asset; it was a sanctuary. After two years of litigation, the board had retreated, realizing that a public trial against a "man of the earth" was a PR nightmare they couldn't afford.Todd didn't look like a CEO anymore. As he walked through the glass doors, carrying a crate of heirloom saplings, he looked li







