Page 137 of When Hearts Collide
Dear Ryland,
There’s not a day that passes by without me missing you. Sometimes, it’ll be seeing the fresh yellow daffodils at the florist or even something as mundane as smelling the scent of oranges. I walk around campus and imagine the dark shadow of you storming down the courtyard or in the halls, your energy sucking the oxygen out of every space you occupy. The other day, I saw these curious birds, a blue one with a purple sheen, and I thought of you then.
Do you think of me? Do you miss me like I miss you?
Despite everything—the press, the gossip, the finger pointing and furtive whispers from strangers on the streets—I don’t regret anything.
Being with you was the happiest time of my life. It was the only time I truly felt seen, heard, and understood. And I realize I’m also culpable to our circumstances because I haven’t been honest with the people around me as well. And it’s time to change that, to be true to myself for myself and also for the people who love me.
My only regret is, because of me, you may lose everything you care about.
A relationship takes effort from both sides. Both of us have to be invested in our tomorrows and perhaps, because I’m so madly in love with you, I haven’t realized the imbalance in our relationship. I always wanted more, and yet, you were always more reserved.
I won’t ask you to give me another tomorrow anymore. I won’t force you to make this decision for my sake.
I only wish for your happiness because you deserve to live for yourself. Freedom is at your fingertips. You just need to reach for it.
Love always, Millie
Clutching the letter close to my chest, I stare into the starless night, thinking of him, the man I’ll miss with every breath I take.
Chapter 50
“That’s it. Get your sorry ass dressed and we’re taking you out. You’ve been at this for the entire day, and you look like a fucking mountain man.”
Rex tosses a towel at me as I throw punch after punch at the heavy bag in the boxing gym inside The Orchid. He and Ethan are standing at the sides of the padded mat, staring at me with concern.
It’s either this or holing myself up in my apartment and thinking about her.
Which I have. Almost non-stop for the last few weeks, and I realize the pain isn’t going away. I miss her with every atom in my body, every ounce of my soul. The pain festers and spirals in the middle of the night as my mind is filled with images of the sweet woman with the softest kiss and keenest eyes. The woman who loves every inch of my corrupted soul.
I’ve tossed and turned in my bed each night, desperately trying, and failing, to fall asleep. Whenever I manage to doze off, I’ll wake up with my face always buried in the pillow she slept on, my lungs trying to breathe in a whiff of her jasmine, but the scent is fading by the day, the once warm bed is now another lonely, cold prison for me.
My family has visited. Steven and Charles have attempted to knock some sense into me, saying Millie wouldn’t want to see me like this. Lana has taken over cooking meals for me, saying a home-cooked meal from a loved one is always better than food from Michelin restaurants or meals prepared by my personal chef, because it contains her love for me.
After being placed on administrative leave, Jacob has left me multiple messages on my phone that I haven’t listened to. I’ve taken time off from Fleur. The less attention I draw to the company, the better right now. From what I know, there is a temporary pause on the IPO because of the scandal, but my family is working to get it back on track.
My mind drifts to the tenured professorship, another beautiful dream now vanished into thin air and the loss feels visceral, like my arm being carved out from my body. Emails ping incessantly from my laptop, but I haven’t had the fortitude to go through them.
And Millie—I see her texts and missed calls and each time, I have to fight every impulse to call her back. Because I know if I do, I’ll succumb to my desires once more. Because my soul needs her more than anything. As if I haven’t caused enough damage to her already.
I’ve asked Grace to keep an eye on her for me, to make sure she’s all right. I’ve also requested one of the men from our security team to look after her from afar in case the press gets rowdy.
But I need to stay away.
I’ve tried hiding my sorrows from everyone, but the pain and remorse are relentless, a strong riptide carrying me back into the turbulent seas. I’ve created a mess my family has to deal with now, and it’s all because I didn’t have better self-control.
No one would’ve been hurt if you had just stayed away, Ryland. You’re undeserving of the people you love.
And so, since eight this morning, I’ve been at the gym, hitting the punching bag in front of me like it’s my worst enemy.
Like it’s myself.
After taking off and tossing my black boxing gloves to the ground, I towel off the rivulets of sweat dripping down my face. I’m sure I look like a disaster with my beard untrimmed and untamed, my skin fucking pale because I haven’t stepped into the sun in the last two weeks.
But I can’t bring myself to care.
Wincing, I slowly unfurl the hand wraps, revealing blistering red knuckles, swollen to almost twice their normal size.
