Promise

Chapter 26: Ten Years Ago

Robyn
Ten Years Ago

TW: Miscarriage. Please do not read further if this is a trigger for you.

Senior year of college was done. I'd walked, gotten my diploma, and taken pictures all day.

I was elated. My parents were proud of me. Mom was crying and Dad couldn't stop clearing his throat the whole time.

Damon kissed my forehead and whispered, "I always knew you could do it. I am so honored to be your big brother, sweet girl. I love you." I believed it with every single bone in my body.

Ariadne flew all the way from Johns Hopkins to be at my graduation, even though she had finals. "You're ridiculous if you thought I wasn't coming," she'd scoffed and then hugged me like her life depended on it.

Bella, who was absolutely crushing it at Harvard was there in her pretty pink dress, making friends with everyone at NYU and telling them all how proud she was of me, how she couldn't wait to buy all the art I ever made, how she never knew anymore more talented than me.

Francis stood beside me in his full-black suit looking at me with pride in his eyes. He'd pulled me into a hug and said, "The reason why I have this family is your kindness. I am so fucking proud of you, Little Hale."

My heart felt so ridiculously warm that all of them had come to see me.

Closing my apartment door behind me after a night of endless celebrations, I sighed as I pulled the heels off my aching feet. Intending to take a shower, I grabbed a sweatshirt from my closet to exchange for my crisp white dress. My heart caught in my throat when I looked at it because it was Christian's sweatshirt. It was always Christian's sweatshirt–they were the only ones I owned.

Over the last few years, I had hardly seen him. He hadn't come to my graduation today either. The last time I saw the boy I loved really act like he even knew me was when he said goodbye to me on the day he left to college.

At 25, Christian Ryder was already a popular figure. He was making a name for himself in the corporate world as a ruthless, cold, businessman who was set to be the youngest CEO the country had ever seen. He was handsome and unstoppable, a huge asset to Ryder Inc. because money just followed him wherever he went, even if he didn't care for it.

I'd read every single article published about him over the last few years, just to give my inner gremlin some more reasons to fuel the pit of self-hatred.

Every single one of our interactions in the last years had been painful.

A heavy knock sounded at my door, scaring me. But when I opened it, I was even more terrified.

Christian stood with his head lowered, hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. He was dressed perfectly, in a black suit and light purple tie–the colors of NYU. Though his hair was disheveled and there was light scruff on his usually clean face, he still looked perfect.

My heart stopped beating immediately.

Slowly, his eyes met mine.

They were desolate, uninhabited pools of darkness. Like the depths of unknown woods, so utterly bare and deprived of life.

"Christian," I breathed.

It seemed my saying his name was a breaking point, because he let out a serrated breath and closed his eyes.

"I couldn't get out the door," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"This morning. Your graduation. I had cleared my entire day, woke up, got ready, sat in my car, drove all the way to NYU, and then I couldn't get out."