Everything's'sas the worst day of my life.
I woke up to seventeen missed calls from an unknown number and a voicemail that made my blood run cold.
It was Aurelia.
"Elias, it's me. I'm using my friend Emily's phone because I know you won't answer if you see my number. Please. Please call me back. I need to talk to you. I need to understand what happened. Did my mother threaten you? Did she offer you money to leave me alone? Because that's exactly the kind of thing she would do, and if that's what happened, we can fight this together. Just... please. Call me back."
Her voice broke at the end.
I listened to the voicemail three times, my finger hovering over the call button.
But I didn't call back.
Because what would I say? That her mother didn't threaten me to leave her alone. She threatened me to stay away from her after I'd already been sleeping with her mother for money?
There was no version of the truth that didn't destroy her.
So I did nothing.
I deleted the voicemail, blocked Emily's number, and went to class like a zombie.
My phone buzzed during my data structures lecture.
A text from an unknown number. Different from Emily's.
Unknown: This is Claire, Ms. Rowan's assistant. Ms. Rowan requests your presence at her penthouse this evening at 8 PM. A car will pick you up at 7:30 PM. This is not optional.
I stared at the message.
I'd blocked Selene's number. So she'd found another way to reach me.
I typed back.
Me: I quit. Find another tutor for Aurelia. I'm done.
The response came within seconds.
Claire: Ms. Rowan anticipated this response. She asked me to inform you that your final payment includes a severance package of $5,000. However, she needs to discuss the terms of your NDA in person. Failure to appear will result in legal action.
$5,000.
Five thousand dollars.
That was two months of rent. Books for next semester. Breathing room I desperately needed.
But it came with strings. It always came with strings.
I typed back.
Me: Fine. I'll be there.
The rest of the day crawled by.
I couldn't focus in any of my classes. I kept checking my phone, half expecting another call from Aurelia, another desperate message.
But there was nothing.
Just silence.
At lunch, Jake cornered me in the dining hall.
"Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on with you?" he said, sitting down across from me without asking. "You look like you haven't slept in a week. You're jumpy. You're barely eating. And yesterday you came back to the room at midnight looking like someone had died."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're the opposite of fine." He leaned forward. "Is this about that tutoring job? Because if they're working you too hard or treating you like crap, you can quit. There are other jobs."
"It's complicated."
"Everything's complicated with you lately." Jake grabbed a fry from my plate. "Look, I'm not going to push. But I'm worried about you, man. You're not yourself. And if you need help, if you need someone to just listen, I'm here. Okay?"
"Okay."
"I mean it."
"I know."
But I couldn't tell him. Couldn't tell anyone.
Because the truth was too ugly. Too shameful. Too complicated to explain.
So I just nodded and pretended everything was fine.
Another lie to add to the mountain.
The car arrived at exactly 7:30 PM.
Not Marcus this time. A different driver. Older. Silent. He didn't even look at me when I climbed into the back seat.
The drive to Selene's penthouse felt longer than usual. Or maybe it was just my anxiety stretching time.
When we pulled into the underground parking garage, my stomach was in knots.
I took the elevator to the top floor, my hands shaking.
The doors opened, and Selene was standing there waiting for me.
She was wearing jeans and a cashmere sweater. Hair down. No makeup. She looked tired. Human.
"Come in," she said quietly.
I followed her inside.
The penthouse looked the same as the last time I was here. Clean. Expensive. Lonely.
She gestured to the couch. "Sit."
I sat.
She poured two glasses of wine from a bottle on the coffee table and handed one to me.
"I don't want wine," I said.
"Drink it anyway. You look like you need it."
I took the glass but didn't drink.
Selene sat down on the opposite end of the couch, curling her legs under her. For a moment, she looked vulnerable. Almost fragile.
"Aurelia hasn't left her room in two days," she said. "She's not eating. Barely sleeping. She just sits there staring at her laptop, refreshing your social media profiles over and over."
Guilt hit me like a physical blow. "Selene..."
"I know. I know this is my fault." She took a drink of wine. "I pushed you into a corner. Made you choose. And you chose to hurt her to protect her. That's what I asked you to do."
"Then why am I here?"
"Because I need you to understand something." She set her glass down and looked at me. "I didn't do this to be cruel. I did this because I've seen what happens when brilliant young women fall for the wrong men. I lived it. I married a man who seemed perfect, and he spent five years systematically destroying every ounce of confidence I had. Every dream. Every ambition. Until I was nothing but his accessory."
"I'm not him."
"I know you're not. But you're still the wrong choice for her." She leaned forward. "You're twenty-one. You're broke. You're drowning in family responsibility. And yes, you're kind and honest and everything she thinks she wants. But in five years? In ten? When the honeymoon phase wears off and reality sets in? You'll resent her. Or she'll resent you. Or both."
"You don't know that."
"I do. Because I've seen it happen. Over and over. Love isn't enough, Elias. It never is." She picked up her wine again. "I'm trying to save her from the mistakes I made. From wasting her twenties on someone who can't give her the life she deserves."
"And what about what she wants?"
"She's eighteen. She doesn't know what she wants. She thinks she does, but she doesn't." Selene finished her wine and poured another glass. "She'll thank me eventually. When she's successful and independent and not tied down to someone who held her back."
"Is that what you tell yourself? That you're protecting her?"
"Yes."
"What if you're wrong? What if you're just projecting your own trauma onto her and robbing her of the chance to make her own choices?"
Selene's jaw tightened. "You don't get to psychoanalyze me."
"Why not? You've been doing it to me since the day we met." I set my wine glass down. "You want to know what I think? I think you're terrified. Not of me hurting Aurelia. Of her not needing you anymore. Because if she finds happiness outside of your control, what does that make you? Just another lonely CEO in an empty penthouse."
For a moment, I thought she was going to explode. Scream at me. Throw me out.
Instead, she started crying.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just silent tears streaming down her face.
"You're right," she whispered. "I am terrified. Because she's all I have. The company? It's just money. Power. None of it matters. But Aurelia? She's everything. And if I lose her..." She covered her face with her hands. "I don't know who I am without her."
I didn't know what to do.
Part of me wanted to comfort her. Part of me wanted to walk out and never look back.
Instead, I stayed frozen on the couch, watching her break down.
"I'm a terrible mother," Selene said through her tears. "I know I am. I'm controlling and cold and I push everyone away. But I don't know how to be anything else. This is all I know."
"Then learn something different."
"It's too late."
"It's not." I moved closer to her. Not touching. Just closer. "You can change. You can let her make her own mistakes. You can trust that you raised her well enough to survive them."
"What if she gets hurt?"
"Then she gets hurt. And she learns. And she becomes stronger." I took a breath. "You can't protect her from everything, Selene. Eventually, you have to let go."
She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. "How do I do that?"
"I don't know. But maybe start by apologizing to her. Tell her the truth. Not all of it," I added quickly. "But tell her that you were scared and you overreacted and you're sorry."
"She won't forgive me."
"She might. She loves you. Even when she hates you, she loves you."
Selene was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you love her?"
The question hung in the air between us.
I thought about Aurelia. About her brilliant mind and her tentative smiles. About the way she looked at the world like it was a puzzle to solve. About how she'd trusted me with her vulnerability.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I care about her. A lot. But love? I don't think I know what that feels like yet."
"Then you made the right choice. Walking away." She wiped her eyes. "Love or not, you can't give her what she needs right now. And neither can I, apparently."
"So what happens now?"
"Now you take your severance and you move on with your life. Find a nice girl at university. Someone uncomplicated. Someone who doesn't come with a controlling mother and a trust fund." She stood up and walked to her desk, pulling out an envelope. "This is your severance. Five thousand dollars. And a letter of recommendation for any future employer who asks about your time with us."
She handed me the envelope.
I opened it. The money was there. So was the letter, printed on official Rowan Industries letterhead.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank me. You earned it." She walked me to the door. "Elias?"
"Yeah?"
"For what it's worth, I think you're a good person. Better than you give yourself credit for. And whatever happens, I hope you find what you're looking for."
"You too."
She smiled sadly. "I don't think people like me find what we're looking for. We just find ways to live with what we've lost."
The drive back to campus was quiet.
I sat in the back seat, the envelope in my lap, feeling empty.
$5,000 would change my life. Pay off debts. Give my family security. Let me breathe for the first time in months.
But it felt like blood money. Payment for breaking a girl's heart and walking away from the only two people who'd made me feel like I mattered.
When I got back to my dorm, Jake was playing video games.
"You're back," he said without looking away from the screen. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I think I am."
"Good. Because you've been a depressing mess for like two weeks and it's bumming me out."
I laughed. It felt strange. Like I'd forgotten how.
"Sorry about that."
"It's cool. Just promise me whatever was going on, it's over now."
"It's over."
"Good."
I climbed into bed and pulled out my phone.
There were no new messages. No calls. No desperate voicemails.
Just silence.
I thought about texting Aurelia. Explaining everything. Apologizing.
But what good would it do? The damage was done. The lies had been told. The bridges had been burned.
Instead, I opened my banking app and transferred $4,000 to my parents' account. Kept $1,000 for myself.
My phone buzzed almost immediately. A call from my mother.
"Elias? What... how did you... is this real?"
"It's real, Mom. Severance from the tutoring job. They paid me out for the rest of the semester."
"Oh my God. Oh my God, this is... thank you. Thank you so much." She was crying. Happy tears this time. "You saved us again, baby. You're a miracle."
"I'm not a miracle, Mom. I just got lucky."
"Well, I don't care what it was. I'm grateful. Your father's going to be so relieved."
We talked for a few more minutes. She told me about Marcus and Caleb's school progress. About the new job lead Dad had. About how things were finally looking up.
I listened and smiled and pretended I was okay.
When we hung up, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
I'd done it. I'd saved my family. I'd walked away from the mess. I'd survived.
So why did it feel like I'd lost everything?
Friday morning, I woke up to a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: This is Emily. Aurelia's friend. I don't know what happened between you two, but she's not okay. She won't eat. Won't talk. Just cries and works on her laptop. I'm worried about her. If you care about her at all, please reach out. Or at least tell me what to do to help her.
I stared at the message.
Then I typed back.
Me: Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her she deserves better than me. And tell her Haven is going to change the world.
Emily responded immediately.
Emily: That's it? That's all you're going to say?
Me: That's all I can say.
I blocked the number.
Then I got dressed, went to class, and tried to start over.
But Aurelia's voice kept echoing in my head.
"You're choosing her approval over being honest about what you feel."
She was right.
I had chosen approval. Chosen money. Chosen self-preservation over honesty.
And now I had to live with that choice.
Even if it was killing me inside.