Page 125 of When Hearts Collide

“In the past year we’ve spent together, I’ve seen you grow. I’ve witnessed the brilliance in your theories and arguments, the thoughtfulness in your responses. And I’m proud of you for being part of my legacy. Perhaps this is one final lesson—sometimes, the real world doesn’t see our efforts and the truth in our arguments. Politics, optics, and many other factors are in play. But remember your heart even when the real world closes in, even when you’re forced to accept reality. You’ve tried your best and sometimes,” he pauses, his eyes meeting mine. “Sometimes, some things aren’t meant to be.”

Ryland’s passionate gaze brims with unsaid emotions. His words reverberate in my ears and I feel a burning sensation behind my eyes.

No, I refuse to accept that.

The classroom is silent. I shake my head.

No, I don’t accept this reality.

I don’t—

Bam!

The doors swing open and suddenly, we’re blinded by flashing bright lights, followed by a stampede of random outsiders into the room.

“There she is! Over there!”

By the time the dots disappear from my vision, I find several men and women crowding in front of me, cameras and microphones thrusted at my face. What the fuck is going on?

“Ms. Callahan, what is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Anderson?”

“We just received a photo from an anonymous source showing Mr. Anderson carrying a woman who resembled you in the halls of The Orchid. You had scrapes over your legs and arms. Was he abusing you?”

“Ms. Callahan! Ms. Callahan, how long has this been going on?”

“I have it on good authority you two were in a scene at a primal kink club. Is that true?”

“Weren’t you already his student at the time?”

“Do you think you’re above reproach because you’re Adrian Scott’s sister?”

My heart drops to my stomach as nausea roils inside me. No, they found out. Despite all our efforts, they still found out about us. I had hope… God, I was so stupid. Shit. What do I do?

My pulse races in my ears as I angle my head and try to find Ryland past the wall of people in front of me, only to see more paparazzi gathered around him. He throws a swing at a reporter in front of him, his eyes frenzied as he tries to break through his barricade to reach me.

“Let go of her, you creep!” Chloe tries to peel off a reporter who has his hand clamped onto my forearm.

Chaos erupts in the classroom, and I hear chairs dragging over the floors, shouting as classmates come to my aid. I hear Fred yelling something like, “Security is coming, assholes. Get the fuck out of here!”

“Ms. Callahan!”

More bright white flashes. More noise. More everything. I want to move, to escape, to fight back, but panic claws my insides and I’m frozen in fear.

“Ms. Callahan, answer our questions! Are you trying to sleep your way to an A?”

My breathing quickens, the seconds feeling like hours, and I find myself mute, unable to speak, unable to move, a literal prey frozen in front of the dangerous predators in front of me.

Move, Millie. Get out of here. What are you doing?

But my body won’t cooperate and sweat trickles down my back as desperation kicks in. I need to get out of here. I need them to leave me alone.

I need him.

My breathing turns rapid, my lungs trying but failing to get in the much-needed oxygen. I curl over my desk, my hands covering my ears. There’s a loud ringing in my ears that won’t stop.

Too much noise. Too many lights. Too many questions.

The door swings open again and campus security marches in with batons and handcuffs. Someone yells something about this being a private institution and the press is banned on campus.

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