Page 159 of When Hearts Collide

My heart throws itself against my rib cage as I climb up the steps of the stage and walk toward Dean Emery, who is standing in front of the two rows of chairs occupied by the faculty.

“Go get them, little lark!”

My head swivels toward Ryland. He has risen from his seat in the first row of faculty seating on the stage, clearly not caring his colleagues are staring at him. He grins, his smile unleashing a new swarm of butterflies in my stomach, and he claps loudly, pride shining in his eyes.

It has been a month since he unveiled the greenhouse to me and, as expected, the press went crazy when the story broke about how he funded a greenhouse in perpetuity and named it after me.

But true to his word, this time, he didn’t shy away. He bravely took my hand in his as we strolled the streets of Manhattan, ignored the paparazzi when they screamed questions at us before we walked into The Orchid for some peace and quiet. The official story was because of the alleged scandal earlier on, we spent even more time together and fell in love—he even thanked the reporters for getting us together.

I bite my lip and give him a wink before striding to Dean Emery, who briefly rolls his eyes heavenward, no doubt at Ryland’s public display of affection.

“Congratulations, Ms. Callahan. Well deserved,” he murmurs as he takes my hand in his, gives it a firm shake, and hands me my diploma.

I did it. The thought echoes in my mind as elation churns through my veins. I’m one step closer to my dream.

I can’t believe such happiness exists.

After taking the obligatory photo, I walk off the stage, my smile permanently plastered on my face. I clutch the ceremonial diploma tightly in my hand as I make my way back to my seat. After all these years of working hard and studying nonstop, I’m now a college graduate.

It didn’t really hit home until I crossed the stage moments ago, even though my official certificate is dated half a year ago.

I look toward the ceiling and whisper, Mom, if you’re watching over me, I hope you’re proud.

The rest of the ceremony passes by quickly, the excitement from the crowd palpable. Joss rushes up to me and envelops me in a hug.

“I’m so happy for you, Millie! You did what you told me you were going to do at ULA.”

I grin. “Thank you, Joss.”

“Congratulations, Millie,” a raspy voice murmurs and I turn, finding Charles grinning as he saunters up to us, his blond hair gleaming under the overhead lights. “Sorry, I had a work meeting I couldn’t get out of, but I’m glad I caught the tail end of it. You look beautiful today.”

“Seriously, dude, hold back on the charm, will you? She’s taken,” Taylor mutters while picking at her nails.

Charles glares at her.

I shake my head and laugh. “You two, seriously.” I’m not sure if they’ll ever get along.

The next half hour is filled with laughter as we take photos—so many, my smile seems permanently etched on my face—and catch up with friends and classmates.

Soon, everyone leaves the building. Charles has to run to a work dinner, and Joss is meeting up with other friends across the city. Ryland and I return to his apartment at The Orchid to get ready for the next event of the day, a celebratory graduation dinner with our families.

“Do I look presentable? I tried my best with the makeup, but someone was a savage this morning at Noire.”

I eye my reflection in the mirror inside the master bathroom to check if any of his love marks are showing through. I fiddle with the lavender boat-neck dress I have on as nerves threaten to break free.

It’ll be the first dinner between my family and his—officially, that is.

Ryland steps up behind me, looking like my wet dream come to life in his sharp gray suit, carefully arranged hair, and a sexy five o’clock shadow. A heat creeps up my skin as he stares at me in that sole unwavering attention of his, his gray eyes darkening to obsidian.

He murmurs, “You look perfect. You look like mine.”

My heart skips several beats, and a heady warmth washes over me.

A few minutes later, we take the elevators down and walk to one of the private rooms at Carlisle’s, one of the award-winning restaurants inside The Orchid. It’s the love child of two married Michelin-starred chefs, each specializing in steak or seafood, thus making the restaurant a unique place where one can have the best surf and turf in the country.

Steven and the rest of the Anderson family, including Grace and Taylor, are sitting at the large circular table in the elegant room decorated in creams and whites. Adrian is smiling at Emily as she chats with Dad, who is sitting next to them. The men stand up automatically when we walk in and don’t sit down until I take a seat next to Lana.

“The person of the hour!” Rex winks before striding over and pulling me into a bear hug. “The better half of my brother. Please keep putting up with him because he was a surly ass when you weren’t by his side.”

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