Chapter 12: Paige Lawson Shook Her Head

"No." Paige Lawson shook her head, her cheeks flushing pink as she rose on tiptoes. "I want to stay with you longer."

Grant Holloway gripped her waist and kissed her without hesitation.

Gasps erupted around them.

"Holy shit! That's bold!"

"So sweet!"

Clara Whitmore stood at the crowd's edge, her knuckles whitening from clenched fists.

Her heart felt scraped by a dull blade, yet strangely calm.

She turned and walked away, her retreating figure resolute.

Quitting cigarettes causes withdrawal—how much worse for someone loved six years?

Grant glanced back as if sensing something.

A familiar silhouette vanished around the corner.

Paige hooked her fingers through his. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." He turned away.

Beneath the dormitory lights, Paige clung to his sleeve.

"Stay a little longer?"

Grant ruffled her hair. "I'll pick you up this weekend."

Streetlights carved sharp shadows across his angular features.

Paige's eyes gleamed. "Grant... can I come to your place tonight?"

His gaze darkened. "You're too young."

The answer sent warmth through her chest.

He truly cherished her.

"I should go." Grant checked his watch, his expression distant as he turned.

* * *

Clara sat before her computer, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

That image wouldn't leave her mind.

She rushed to the bathroom, splashing icy water on her face.

After composing herself, she opened Professor Miriam Caldwell's materials—a textbook, annotated notes, and her unfinished thesis.

Countless all-nighters in the lab had been sacrificed for this paper.

After abandoning grad school, she'd clung to two things:

Caring for Grant.

And perfecting this research.

Merging the documents felt like reassembling her shattered self.

Before dawn, she submitted the paper to Meridian Science.

Not for recognition—just closure.

At 8 AM sharp, she left her apartment.

In the hallway, she encountered Elias Mercer returning home.

Raindrops glistened on his shoulders, his umbrella dripping.

"All-night experiment?"

"Urgent data."

Clara handed him warm milk. "Don't catch cold."

Elias blinked. "Thanks."

Outside the library, Victoria Holloway's voice cut through the air.

"Clara? More part-time work?"

Beside her stood Catherine Holloway, regal with the metallic gleam of her structured designer bag.

"Miss Whitmore," Catherine smiled coolly, "this 'chance encounter' act is rather transparent."

Her gaze swept over Clara's simple attire, oozing disdain.

"Grant will marry someone of his station. As for you..."

A deliberate pause.

"Know your place if you want to keep it."