Sebastian's POV – 5 Years Later
Graduation.
The day that was supposed to feel like an ending, like the closing of a long, painful, beautiful book. But instead, it felt like a spotlight. A stage. A pause before the real show began.
Four years of lectures, mock trials, sleepless nights, burnt coffee, and even more burnt-out classmates—done. I had graduated top three from the most prestigious law school in the state. I was officially twenty-two, officially legal to practice law, and unofficially still the same dramatic, charming, emotionally complicated man-child I'd always been.
And I was waiting.
Everyone else's parents were already there—moms holding bouquets too big to carry, dads adjusting ties on children who no longer needed them. Professors gave tearful hugs. Friends squealed. Confetti flew. It was chaos. It was joy.
And still, I stood at the edge of the lawn, heart hammering, staring at the gate.
Because they hadn't arrived yet.
Then I heard it.
The purr of a Rolls Royce.
Heads turned like magnets. The chaos of the crowd stilled for a second. You could feel the change in the air—the way attention bent.
And then it rolled into view: jet-black, sleek, arrogant. Like it owned the street.
Out stepped Ray. All black. No tie. Gold watch. Dark shades. Hair slicked back. He looked like he could buy the building just to bulldoze it for better lighting. Calm. Cool. Deadly.
And then—
Ava.
My mother. My chaos.
She stepped out like she wasn't walking, but floating. Champagne-colored silk gown that caught every glint of sun, five-inch heels that screamed money and ankle instability, curls styled in a soft, regal halo, and pink-tinted sunglasses that covered eyes everyone wanted to see.
The crowd gasped. Literal gasps. People pointed. I heard someone behind me whisper:
"That's Sebastian's mom. That's Ava The Ava "
And then she saw me.
"OH MY GOD, SEBBY!"
She shrieked like it was the first time she'd seen me in years.
And she ran.
I swear the grass parted for her. I was bracing myself, but before she could make it halfway across, she tripped.
And Ray—without breaking stride—reached forward and grabbed her by the collar of her designer gown like a misbehaving cat. One-handed. Effortless.
"WALK," he muttered. Not even looking.
"LET ME GO, I NEED TO KISS MY SON!"
He sighed and released her. And then I was gone. Swept up into her arms. Her lipstick—glossy red—stained my cheek, my robe, possibly my soul.
"My baby boy!" she sobbed. "I blinked, and now you're graduating. Oh my god, look at you, tall and handsome and graduated and—Ray, do you SEE HIM? We raised THAT."
"I did most of the raising," Ray muttered dryly, reaching up to remove a piece of lint from my hood.
She ignored him. Her hands were everywhere—fixing my collar, kissing my face, patting my chest like I was five again.
People were filming. Literally filming.
"They look like royalty."
"That guy with her—is that her husband? Is that his dad?"
"He's the guy who turned down Harper Simmons last year, right?"
"Did you see the way that man just caught her by the collar?"
I looked up at Ray. He had his arms crossed, lips twitching like he was trying not to smile.
"She tried on six dresses this morning," he said.
"I'm surprised it was only six," I said.
"She threatened to cry."
"Sounds about right."
"She cried anyway."
And then she turned back to me, pulling me in again like she couldn't get enough.
"I am SO proud of you. You did it. My baby—Sebby, do you remember when you couldn't even tie your shoelaces and now look at you! A lawyer! A grown man! Who still leaves his laundry on the floor but whatever—we'll work on that—"
I coughed. "Mom."
She beamed up at me, eyes shining. "No girl is good enough for you. I swear, the next one who calls you 'babe' is getting a background check."
Ray placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ava."
"What? He's still my baby."
And then she looked at me. Really looked. Her eyes softened, her voice low.
"You know I never thought I'd get here? That I'd be here. With you. Watching you turn into the man I always hoped you'd be."
Something caught in my throat.
I nodded.
And I realized—I wasn't just the top of my class. I wasn't just the playboy turned lawyer.
I was hers. And his.
And that made me the richest man alive.
(And yes, I still have a new girl every week. And no, none of them have met her. Yet.)