He Thought I'd Crawl Back

I grabbed Graham by his tie, shoving him hard against the stairwell wall.A minute ago, that blonde girl was sitting on his lap, wearing the exclusive leather jacket he'd bought just for me.

It hadn't even been twentyfour hours since we broke up."Who is she?" I asked, my nails biting into my palms.He adjusted his collar and looked down at me.

Zero guilt in his eyes. "My girlfriend."He peeled my fingers off him one by one and let out a cold scoff. "From today on, you're getting nothing else from me. Stay out of my life."Chapter 1Graham was my first love. We dated for four years.

The reason I fall for someone is always a little twisted.

Like the time Graham handed me a glass of his signature cranberry vodka at a wild frat party, and my heart rate instantly spiked to the edge of losing control.The guy in the custom leather motorcycle jacket leaned against the hood of his Porsche, swirling the ice in his liquor. "New mix.

You try it first."I didn't taste the sweetness of the cranberry or the burn of the vodka. Instead, the faint smirk playing on his lips completely hooked my soul. I found out later it was just a stupid dare with his boys.

That particular mix tasted like absolute garbage, and they just wanted to mess with me.But they didn't expect me to down the entire glass of hard liquor in one shot.

And just like that, Graham's arrogant defenses crumbled.Because from that day on, I chased after Graham relentlessly.Graham finally got annoyed by my constant harassment. He cornered me in the athletic locker room.

He leaned lazily against the metal lockers, raising an eyebrow at me. "What's so great about me?""Everything." I stared at his sharp jawline under the dim, flickering light, answering in a daze.He let out a low chuckle.

I swear, in my nineteen years of life, my brain had never shortcircuited like that before.Because he leaned down and pressed his lips against the corner of my mouth.The warmth of his touch hadn't even faded before his slow, deliberate voice drifted into my ear."First kiss?

How do you even have the guts to chase me?"They say the harder you fall in love, the more it feels like shattering glass when you break up. Everyone around us knew it.

Maybe Graham didn't love me all that much, but I was fatally obsessed with him.But no one probably expected that I would be the one to dump him.I drank way too much that night. My vision blurred as I told him it was over. And his reaction?

Pure ice.He just said "Okay." So casual. So natural.He said, "Hazel, if you break up with me, don't regret it.

I'm not looking back."He kept his word.The lights at the graduation gala were dazzling, but I spotted the man in the perfectly tailored suit in a single glance.

It hadn't even been twentyfour hours since we broke up, yet today he was publicly parading around with that socialite. The woman's hand rested naturally on his shoulder.

He wore the same cold, detached expression, like none of it mattered to him.Cora leaned in next to me, watching the two of them. "Hey, do you think he was just waiting for you to end it?""Maybe?" I swirled my flute, downing the cheap champagne in one harsh gulp.Chapter 2Even though it was a college graduation gala, whoever organized this thing must have lost their minds.

The champagne at the party was as weak as tap water. I couldn't take it anymore, so I headed back to my dorm to change.

And right there on my way back, I ran into Graham.He'd already ditched the tailored suit, wearing a loosefitting vintage tee instead.

I used to love that effortless, lazy energy he always carried—so casual and untamed.He was swinging a halfempty bottle of mineral water in his hand. I sniffed, stepping up to him. "Waiting for your new girlfriend?"He didn't answer.

Instead, he shoved the water bottle toward me. I caught it out of reflex, having no idea what game he was playing.

Then he shrugged off that varsity jacket with his initials printed on it and tossed it right at me.That jacket was his absolute pride and joy as the starting quarterback.

Back in our sophomore year, he had draped it over my shoulders in front of the entire campus, claiming me as his. It was his most prized possession, yet he rarely wore it after that day.

And now, he was tossing it back to me like it meant nothing."Keep it.

Or throw it in the trash if you don't want it." I gripped the plastic water bottle, keeping my face totally blank.He didn't say a word, just snatched the jacket back from my hands.I stared at his prominent knuckles, fully expecting that jacket to end up in the nearest dumpster within the next five minutes.He smoothly hooked the water bottle back out of my grip and turned away.

I couldn't stop myself. I called out to him."What about that limitededition Ivy League hoodie? Do you still want it?"That hoodie…

he used to live in it every single day, but eventually, it became my exclusive comfort object.There was nothing inherently magical about it, but I loved burying my face in it when he wasn't around, pretending it was him.

For one of my birthdays, he flew halfway across the world to Iceland for some university exchange program.

I told him how much I missed him when he was gone.He just let out this low, teasing chuckle through the receiver. "Then just pretend that hoodie is me.""Doesn't work that way.

Aren't you worried I might find some company while you're freezing over there?" I gripped the phone, desperately wanting to breathe the same icy air he was breathing."As if anyone else would want you?" he fired back."…

" I twisted the drawstrings of the hoodie, snapping at him. "Just wait. One day I'll get married, and if you're not the groom, let's see what you do."What did he say back then?

There was a beat of silence before his voice dropped, dead serious. "Then I'll just wear that hoodie, load up an AK47, and hijack your getaway car."A piece of clothing can't hold an AK47, just like you'll never know how many times I curled up clutching that oversized fabric, crying my eyes out.

But this time, you threw the hoodie away, and you threw me away right along with it.Looking back, Graham was never exactly boyfriend of the year. He'd forget my birthday, lose his temper over nothing, and occasionally…

flash that same killer smile at other girls.The real reason I broke up with Graham was what I saw that day.

I saw that girl sitting in the passenger seat of his Porsche with my own two eyes—the very same seat he swore would forever belong exclusively to me. He leaned toward her, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.

How long had it been since he smiled at me like that?I knew I was being irrational. Reckless. Maybe Graham and that girl were nothing.

Maybe it was all in my head.But that night, I still downed half a bottle of tequila and told him we were done.Chapter 3Turns out, I really was overthinking it.I just wanted to see him beg me not to leave. I just wanted him to coax me. But he didn't.

He agreed to the breakup with chilling indifference, as if he'd been waiting for this exact day.Other girls got to be spoiled, got to throw tantrums with their boyfriends. With me?

He was sending a crystalclear message: Don't push it, or I'll drop you.

He warned me not to regret it because he was absolutely certain I would break first.Graham stood before me, brows furrowed, asking if I still hadn't thrown away that ratty hoodie stained with the scent of his cologne.The words died in my throat.

I couldn't possibly explain to him how much his socalled 'trash' meant to me.

I could only stand there and watch him walk away, step by step, until he reached the streetlamp at the corner and dumped his varsity jacket straight into the trash can.Near graduation, I sat on my bare mattress.

I opened iMessage and scrolled down to his name. I never realized how much I used to talk at him. The screen was choked with solid blocks of blue bubbles—all my messages.And the gray bubbles from his side? Pitifully scarce.

Just cold, dismissive oneword replies, tossed out like forced obligations.Four years. After four entire years, my pulse still spiked every time my screen lit up with his name.

Four years, and I still texted him goodnight every single night, even when he left me on read.I didn't hesitate. I wiped the entire chat history clean and blocked his number entirely.

Since he chose someone else, he could scrub himself out of my world.But I still had to learn to erase him.Graham walked away without a trace of hesitation. He wasn't going to look back.

If I crawled back to him now, what exactly did that make me?After graduation, I took a job at a small local firm. The rigid ninetofive grind wasn't exactly my dream, but it forced my exhausted brain to stop spiraling.

I'd severed every tie with Graham, yet his name still drifted through the grapevine. He landed a highpowered corporate gig.No surprise there. His ruthless ambition in his career was a brutal contrast to how carelessly he treated his personal life.

Still, hearing about it felt like the twist of a knife.I had a shot at a massive platform too.Back in my junior year, I scored a chance to feature in an international exhibition.

I grinded for months, scouting locations and drafting endless proposals.But the moment my final design went up in the gallery, someone posted a TikTok exposing me, accusing me of plagiarism.It blew up instantly.

The day the news dropped, I walked out of a lecture hall to find people pointing fingers and whispering.Later, Cora shoved her phone in my face, playing that viral TikTok video.

The sidebyside comparison photos looked damning, claiming I stole her entire concept. My fingers shook so hard I almost dropped the phone.The line for artistic plagiarism is always blurry.

But the evidence hammered down in that video looked terrifyingly identical to my design. I didn't believe in coincidences that perfect, yet I couldn't pinpoint the exact flaw.

I burned the midnight oil for months to build those drafts from the ground up.How could a carbon copy just materialize out of thin air?But the reality was suffocating—everyone bought the lie.

I hadn't done a single thing wrong, but walking across campus felt like running a gauntlet.

People muttered as I passed, calling me a disgrace to the university, sneering that my perfect GPA must have been faked too.Chapter 4That night, I finally broke down and called Graham.

It rang forever before he answered.The fallout was so massive that even his department must have caught wind of it. I opened my mouth, but my throat seized up entirely.

I couldn't force a single word past the suffocating lump in my airway.He told me to post a video on my social accounts and just apologize properly. He asked why it was so hard to just admit I stole it.Right. Graham would never stand in my corner.

He dissected the situation with cold, mechanical logic. He must have heard my ragged breathing, because his voice dropped into a low, coaxing murmur."Hazel, it's okay. It's not embarrassing to admit a mistake.

Just go apologize, alright?"That was the first and only time I ever hung up on him.I ground out, word by excruciating word, that I didn't steal anything.

Then I killed the call, buried my face in my knees, and gasped for air as the sobs tore out of my chest.That was easily the darkest chapter of my entire college life.I tried to retrace my design process.

Because I refused to bow to the backlash and apologize, walking outside meant running a gauntlet of pointing fingers and whispers. Only one underclassman, Nolan, was willing to help me dig up evidence and contact people.

Looking back, I really owed him one.But my piece had already been pulled from the gallery.

By the time I posted my statements on every platform, my advisor tracked me down.That was when the horrifying reality hit me—my stupid little project had accidentally become collateral damage in a highstakes power struggle within the faculty.My advisor patted my shoulder, warning me to drop it.I wanted to scream.

I wanted to rip everything down. But it was useless.

The whole thing was just swept under the rug.My statements made zero impact, and my future was slaughtered in a war that had absolutely nothing to do with me.Honestly, Graham came from serious old money and deep connections.

Maybe I could have used his influence to clear my name. But looking back, I never asked him for help.

I was terrified he would reject me.Terrified he would just stare at me with that casual, dismissive look and tell me to stop throwing a tantrum."Hazel.

Long time no see."The postlunch brain fog was still heavy when that vaguely familiar voice drifted into my ear. So familiar I actually thought I was hallucinating. Nolan? Shouldn't he be studying abroad in Europe?I blinked.

The guy sitting shamelessly on the edge of my desk smiled, his eyes curving in a way that made him look deceptively innocent. Nolan.

The same guy who ran himself ragged helping me piece together evidence back in college."You're back stateside." I ran a hand through my hair.

Before I could finish my thought, my manager slapped my shoulder from behind."I heard him yelling that you were his senior. Perfect timing, Hazel. You've been here long enough. He's the new intern.""Show him the ropes."Excuse me?

I hadn't been here that long. Definitely not long enough to babysit a fresh intern.

I glared at my manager, but he completely ignored me, strolling away with his shiny bald head gleaming under the office fluorescents.The guy next to me casually slid into the chair beside mine.

He stretched out his ridiculously long legs, resting his chin in his hand as he stared at me. "Hazel, it's been two years.

You got prettier.""Is that the only pickup line you learned living abroad for two years?" I smacked a file folder flat against the top of his head. He just obediently held it there.I met Nolan through a college club.

He was ridiculously outgoing, and rumor had it the girls absolutely loved him. Honestly, I could see why.

He always gave off this safe, harmless goldenretriever energy.If I hadn't once walked in on him pinning three street punks against a brick alley wall and beating the living hell out of them, I might have actually believed it. But still.

I guess he counted as half a good guy.Chapter 5He paid pretty close attention while I ran through the job description. Still, the company hadn't announced any hiring plans recently.

How exactly did he maneuver his way in here?I finished the spiel and asked if he got it. He nodded.I asked if he had any questions. He rested his chin on his hand, staring directly at me. "Did you and Graham break up, Hazel?"Classic Nolan.

Delivering the most gutwrenching question with the most innocent, babyfaced expression."Is that any of your business?" I gave him a plastic smile and subtly slid a stack of my own paperwork onto his side of the desk.

I didn't care if he knew what he was doing or not. I was definitely working overtime tonight, and I needed the company.And so, Nolan's grand introduction to the corporate world included the brutal reality of latenight overtime."Damn.

So this is working, huh?

It's exhausting, Hazel." He finally cleared the last file from his desk, massaging the back of his neck as he turned to look at me.I bent over the vending machine down the hall and grabbed a canned coffee."How are you getting back, Hazel?""Subway." I gripped the aluminum rim, barely acknowledging him."Let me drive you.""No need.""I brought my car.""The subway is faster.""What are you running from, Hazel?" The guy standing in front of me just smiled.The corridor lights had already snapped off.

The only illumination came from the harsh, unnatural glow of the vending machine, casting fragmented shadows over his eyes. It felt like he could see straight through me.I scoffed. "Fine.

Since you're offering."But the second I slid into the passenger seat, I regretted it. I hated these pockets of dead time where my brain was allowed to idle.

All I could do was stare out the window as the headlights bled into streaks of neon.The city signs flashed endlessly. Come to think of it, Christmas was just around the corner.My thumb rubbed obsessively against the pull tab of the can.

Don't think about it, I told myself. Don't think about it."Hazel, I remember you used to hate coffee." The guy beside me spoke casually, yanking me out of my thoughts. "You like cheeseburgers from the drivethru, don't you?""Do I?

I like pretty much everything." As if to stubbornly prove him wrong, I snapped the tab open and chugged a huge gulp.The bitter liquid scorched my throat, sending a sharp shiver down to the very core of my bones. Seriously.

What the hell was so good about coffee anyway?I loved drivethru cheeseburgers, while Graham only stepped foot in Michelinstarred restaurants. I didn't know that back then.

His birthday fell right on Christmas Day, so I waited in line for two hours to buy him the street hot dog he always sneered at.He stood with me on the curb while I waited, his expression already freezing over.

It was late autumn, and the wind was biting. I rubbed my freezing cheeks and carefully studied his face. "You don't like it?"He looked down at me, his eyes sharp and unbothered. "I haven't eaten street food since I was ten.""Why?""It's garbage.""…

""But I bought it for you, Graham."He gave a lazy, noncommittal hum. He reached out, grabbed the greasestained paper bag from my hand, and delivered his verdict with brutal finality. "Eat it yourself."That was Graham.

If he didn't want to do something, no one on earth could force him.So when we got back to his penthouse, I resigned myself to eating the damn thing alone. The lights were off.

I had just lit the oversized candle on the coffee table when he came up behind me.Chapter 6The bridge of his nose pressed into the crook of my neck. His voice was rough, thick with heavy intent. "Is it your birthday, or mine?""…

""Yours. It's yours. Now, blow out the candle."The flickering candlelight illuminated only a tiny fraction of the penthouse.

To get the street hot dog he despised so much, I had stood in the freezing wind for two hours.I had even taken a sharpie and scrawled Happy Birthday across the greasestained wrapper.

The handwriting was crooked and incredibly ugly.He let out a low chuckle. "Hideous."I opened my mouth to tell him to do it himself if he was so offended, but the candle was abruptly blown out.

Plunged into sudden darkness, his cold fingers slid to the back of my neck.

He gripped my nape, tilting my head up as he kissed me, thoroughly invading my space.His teeth scraped my earlobe, the bite light and teasing. "You taste way better than this cheap hot dog," he muttered against my skin. "Next time, I'll just skip dinner and have you, alright?""…

"When I woke up the next morning, every muscle in my body ached. This wasn't exactly a rare occurrence.

I stepped out of the shower, vigorously rubbing a towel against my wet hair, just as the culprit himself strolled into the bedroom."Next time, don't wait in line for a hot dog." He frowned."Why? Did you actually eat it?"He ignored the question.

Instead, he walked over, snatched the hair dryer out of my hand, and began roughly rubbing the towel over my damp hair."Graham.""Yeah?""If you don't want the hot dog, you don't have to eat it.

And if you don't want to dry my hair, you don't have to force yourself.""…

"Later, I saw the empty wrapper in the trash. Such an arrogant, untouchable man had actually swallowed his pride and eaten the garbage he hated, just for me.

That little detail kept me delusional for a very long time.This was exactly why I hated riding in other people's cars.

The moment I didn't have to fight for a seat on the subway or focus on the road ahead, my brain instantly spiraled back into those endless memories.That's the most pathetic part of it all. He isn't thinking about you, Hazel.

Yet the second my guard drops, my mind defaults right back to him.The car rolled to a stop at some point. I snapped back to reality, realizing the guy next to me was just quietly staring at me.

How long had he been watching?I waved a hand in front of his face, assuming he was just spaced out from exhaustion. "Go get some rest. First day in the corporate grinder is always brutal."His gaze dropped to my hands.

After a beat, a faint, unreadable smile played on his lips.

His voice was smooth."Goodnight, Hazel." Then, right as I pushed the car door shut, he added, "Dream of me."I paused, wondering if the exhaustion was finally making me hallucinate.I dragged myself up the painfully familiar concrete steps of my apartment building, forcing the memories back into their box.

When I first moved into this neighborhood, there were rumors of a stalker prowling around.So for months, Graham would always walk me up these exact stairs, every single night. Now, I was perfectly used to walking them alone.

It really wasn't that scary anymore.The moon was blindingly bright tonight, completely washing out the flickering streetlamps. I tilted my head back.

There, standing at the very top of the stairs, was a silhouette I knew down to my bones.It was almost pathetic, really. Even from this distance, in the dark, my brain recognized him instantly.

Just like a long time ago.He would just stand there, perfectly still, watching me.

And I would be the one running myself ragged, sprinting just to reach him.Chapter 7"What are you doing here, Graham?" I planted my feet, forcing my spine straight so I wouldn't look like cornered prey.The harsh moonlight reflected in his pitchblack pupils.

He always wore that same deadpan, untouchable expression, and the breakup hadn't cracked it at all. A faint, bruised shadow lingered under his lashes.

He looked like he hadn't slept in days."I came to get my things." His voice was rough, scraping like sandpaper."What things?""My hoodie.""…

""I threw it in the trash.""No, you didn't." He tilted his head, his tone absolute.

He was entirely too confident, utterly convinced I was incapable of throwing away anything that belonged to him.He slowly lifted his heavy eyelids to look down at me."What exactly do you take me for, Graham?" I asked.He let out a low, mocking scoff.

The moonlight washed out his features, making the chaotic darkness swirling in his deep eyes look almost suffocating. "You were the one who confessed to me, Hazel.""You were the one who loved me."He took a slow, deliberate step forward, forcing me backward until my shoulder blades hit the cold brick wall.

His towering frame completely swallowed my silhouette.He had never weaponized his physical presence against me like this before. "You were the one who relentlessly chased me.

You trailed behind me like a stray dog.""So what gives you the right to end this?""If anyone gets to call it quits, it's me—"Smack.I didn't hesitate for a single second.

I swung my hand and delivered a brutal, ringing slap directly across his arrogant face. The sharp edge of my ring sliced his bottom lip.

He slowly raised a hand, wiping his mouth, leaving a smear of his own blood across his knuckles.His head stayed turned to the side. He didn't move a muscle, his eyes cast down in the shadows, masking whatever he was feeling.

The silence stretched, suffocating and endless. I sucked in a sharp breath, staring him down."Honestly? Sometimes I genuinely envy you, Graham. You get to demand answers whenever you want.""You get to walk away without a scratch.

At least you can use your Black Card to buy anyone's absolute submission.""At least you can instantly find a socialite to warm your bed the second we break up. But what about me? I have absolutely nothing.

Even the act of dumping you just pisses you off because you don't think I have the right."The cold moonlight illuminated his eyes. He just stood there, staring down at me, stunned."Listen to me clearly. Hazel doesn't love Graham anymore.

And starting right now, she never will again. I am officially cutting off my past."The dive bar was mostly dark, save for the dim neon glow above the counter. I waved my hand dismissively in the air.

The guy sitting next to me poured another heavy pour of whiskey into my glass, clinking his knuckles against the rim."Hazel, there were definitely some good things in your past.

Why burn the whole bridge?"Honestly, I had scrolled through my entire contacts list. At three in the morning, Nolan was the only bastard loyal enough to actually show up.

Even if his motives seemed highly questionable, considering he was actively trying to get me blackout drunk."But…

but still." A sharp sting hit the bridge of my nose the second Graham flashed through my mind."It felt like I spent a lifetime with him, Nolan. A whole lifetime. And I still couldn't catch him.

No matter how hard I ran, I could never reach him.""I loved him, okay? How do you even explain something like that?""Yeah. How do you explain something like that?" Nolan watched me quietly.His intense stare made my skin prickle.

I broke eye contact, chugging the rest of the whiskey in one brutal gulp. When I reached for the bottle again, his large hand clamped firmly over the top of my glass."That's enough.""Why?""I don't know.

I just don't want you drinking anymore." A wicked, teasing smile tugged at his lips.

He stood up to settle the tab, and that was when I realized his own glass was practically untouched."Why didn't you get drunk with me, Nolan?""Because then you wouldn't have a ride home."Chapter 8"Why don't you ever look sad?""What?" He turned back, his hand naturally finding its way to the top of my head to mess up my hair."You just don't see it when I am.""What were you upset about?""Huh?

About…

"The guy walking in front of me suddenly went quiet.

He led the way down the block for a while before turning back to look at me. "Hazel, do you ever get the feeling that you've never actually been in a real relationship?"That question hit me completely out of left field.People always told me how jealous they were.

God, Hazel, you're so lucky to be dating Graham.It must be amazing. He's dropdead gorgeous.

If I were you, I'd never let him go.Not a single person ever looked at me and said, Hazel, being with Graham is a mistake.I just stared at him, stunned.Nolan stood there with his jacket pulled tight against the chill, offering a smile that tasted bitterly complex.

After a long beat, his voice smoothed back into that easy, clear tone. "Come on. Thank God tomorrow is the weekend, or you'd never make it out of bed."Eventually, I slipped right back into the ninetofive corporate grind.

The only difference was that Graham didn't hijack my brain quite as often, and Nolan had aggressively inserted himself into my daily life. And by 'inserted', I mean he literally became my nextdoor neighbor."Don't look so shocked, Hazel.

It's close to the office and the rent is dirt cheap." Nolan stood amidst a chaotic mountain of cardboard boxes, tilting his head at me."…

"Except I vividly remembered the previous tenant's lease still had six months left. Whatever kind of shady deal went down, the reality was that Nolan was now living next door.

I just nodded and helped him unpack, strictly out of coworker solidarity.The sun was already dipping below the skyline by the time we finished breaking down the last of the boxes.

It wasn't until his stomach let out a loud, embarrassing growl that I realized it was past dinner time."Takeout. Definitely takeout.

What are you craving?" Nolan practically vaulted onto the sofa, sprawling out his long limbs as he swiped through his delivery apps."Stop living off delivery.

You need to learn how to actually cook." I rolled up my sleeves, shooting him a sideeye."Haha, my culinary skills max out at 'barely avoiding starvation'."I swear I had heard that exact line before. Graham was exactly the same.

He hated the kitchen.His cooking skills maxed out at nuking frozen meals in the microwave and boiling pasta.

For a while, just to keep him from constantly eating fast food, I taught myself how to cook a proper, heavy dinner.Unfortunately, I possessed absolutely zero natural culinary talent. The results were disastrous.

He bluntly informed me that if I ever tried to pack him another lunch, he would literally choose death.I practiced alone for weeks, racking up a massive body count of poisoned roommates.

Strangely enough, during that time, Graham stopped complaining about eating fast food.

I figured he had finally settled for the campus dining hall, until the day I saw him holding a perfectly assembled, ridiculously aesthetic lunch box.Turns out, some girl had been handdelivering him lunch for days. He never bothered to tell me.

He was totally unapologetic about it, casually mentioning that her food just tasted way better than mine.He knew I was helpless. He knew I was fatally obsessed with him. So he just did whatever the hell he wanted, zero consequences.

At that exact moment, looking down at my own hands covered in angry red burn blisters from practicing all week, I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet."Spicy or marinara, Hazel?!" Nolan's voice yanked me violently back to the present.

He was probably asking about a pasta order.I stared at him blankly for a second before asking, "Does your kitchen actually work?"Chapter 9The fridge in his new place was a barren wasteland.

Nolan leaned against the kitchen doorframe, offering to run out and grab whatever ingredients I needed."Isn't that a hassle?" I asked."Is anything for you a hassle, Hazel?

Absolutely not." Nolan always had this annoying ability to make everything look completely effortless.There wasn't much to work with, but his spice rack was fully stocked.

Taking a closer look, it was painfully obvious this guy didn't actually belong in a dump like this. His knife set was toptier German steel.

Why a trust fund kid was slumming it in this shoebox apartment was beyond me.By the time I finished prepping the base for the mac and cheese, Nolan walked back in carrying heavy brown paper bags from Whole Foods.I used to fantasize about the day I'd marry Graham.

I pictured him leaning against the stainless steel fridge, just watching me cook. But the guy standing in that spot now was someone else entirely.

Watching Nolan shovel steaming forkfuls of pasta into his mouth, my mind blanked for a second."I wish I could be as brave as you are, Hazel." He dropped the line completely out of nowhere.My hand paused over my plate.That was the exact moment I realized he wasn't looking at me at all.

He was looking through me, staring at the ghost of someone else. The golden retriever energy he paraded around all day vanished, leaving his eyes hollow and dark.

Like he had just swallowed a mouthful of ash."Sending you two to the Xinlai Corporation's annual gala shouldn't be an issue, right?" The boss drummed his thick fingers against the mahogany desk, staring expectantly at me and Nolan.Of course there was a damn issue.

Nolan and I were nowhere near the executive pay grade required to step foot in a highsociety event like that. Could I say no?Absolutely not.

God only knew what was rattling around inside our boss's shiny bald head.He was probably ditching the corporate event to take his precious daughter to Disneyland again.

This was exactly why our firm was still bottom of the food chain.While I was busy mourning my career trajectory, Nolan leaned over. "This is my first time hitting an event this massive. Any pro tips, Hazel?"Me? Pro tips?

I was just as clueless.But could I let the new intern smell my panic? Never."Uh, dress sharp, walk tall, and…