8 Years Ago
I SMILED to myself as I walked toward my apartment. Today could not have gone any better. Not only had I survived the exam, but I had scored high on our oral test with one of the strictest professors in the department. Riding that rare wave of relief, I decided to drop by Megan's café. It was already closing time, but I hoped I would still catch her.
"Megan!" I called out when I spotted her locking up, one hand rubbing the back of her neck.
She looked up, surprise lighting her face before her dimples appeared, despite the faint exhaustion written all over her. "Lauren?" She waved, confused but smiling. "What are you doing here?"
I did not answer right away. Instead, I stepped forward and pulled her into a quick, tight hug. I was not sure why. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was relief. I just wanted to hold on for a second longer.
"I did really well on our oral exams," I said as I pulled back. Her ears turned pink almost instantly. "Thanks to your very distracting mouth."
She laughed softly. "Then I should argue with you more often," she teased. "If that's the reward."
"We'll see," I played along. "You done with your shift?"
She nodded. "Long day. I had to cover for Oriana." A tired sigh followed.
"Then walk home with me."
She did not say anything, only nodded. It was obvious she was exhausted. Her eyes were heavy, her movements slower than usual, and something about it tugged at me. She had just finished midterms and rushed straight back to the café to cover for a coworker.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out what I had been carrying all afternoon, holding it out to her. "Here. Eat something."
She blinked before accepting the granola bar. "Thank you. I forgot lunch." A small smile curved her lips.
"Working's fine," I said quietly, "but you still need to eat."
She glanced at the granola bar, then back at me. "I know. I just forget sometimes."
Studying and working just to keep yourself afloat was not easy. Yet she carried it with quiet steadiness, balancing everything without letting it show. That was when I realized how admirable she truly was.
We lived in the same dorm building, reserved for scholarship students. That was all I had known about her at first, that we had both earned our place there. Somehow, that alone was enough to create an unspoken understanding.
As she took a bite of the granola bar, I reached out without thinking and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. The moment she turned toward me, a sharp awareness shot through my hand. I pulled back immediately and cleared my throat, heat creeping up my neck.
"You're eating your hair," I said, biting back my embarrassment.
She let out a soft chuckle but did not reply, tucking the strand behind her ear before taking another bite. I looked away quickly, relieved she had not said anything more.
We started walking again, falling into step beside each other. It surprised me how natural it felt. Somewhere along the way, I realized I was beginning to enjoy her presence more than I had expected. And for once, that realization did not make me uneasy at all.
"I first noticed you during the club introductions," she said out of the blue. "You were handing out pamphlets. Your hair was curled, and you looked confident." She hesitated. "I wanted to join your club, but I didn't know how to approach you."
"Is that when you started liking me?" I asked lightly, keeping my tone casual.
She made a small sound, almost a laugh. When I glanced at her, she was staring straight ahead, her ears turning red under the lamppost we passed.
"At first, I thought it was just admiration," she said with a small shrug. "Freshman stuff."
"I get that," I replied, thinking of the letters and notes I had received before. "I liked a senior when I was a freshman too."
"But then I saw you again," she continued, her voice steadier this time. "At the café. Watching you study between shifts. Watching how hard you work to make your plans real. That's what I admired most." She paused. "You make time feel slower, but meaningful. That's what made me like you."
I slowed to a stop, and she did too. I had always known she liked me, but I had never truly understood why until she said it herself. The words lodged in my throat.
"You're loyal," she said, her eyes settling on mine, still bright under the dim streetlight. "To the future you want—to yourself. I've never seen someone give so much of themselves to their dreams."
My chest tightened, my heartbeat suddenly loud. Not because of the compliment, but because someone had finally noticed the effort I had poured into my ambitions.
"I don't like you just because you're pretty," she added softly. "I like you because of who you're becoming. And I wanted to support you, if you'd let me."
JUST LIKE leaves shedding from trees, days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. I was now in my last year of college, preparing for the long road toward bar exam reviews. True to her words, Megan never stopped showing up. Sometimes with flowers she knew I liked.
Sometimes with coffee made exactly the way I preferred it. Sometimes with snacks she remembered I craved during long review days. I never answered her that night, but I never rejected her either.
"Let me guess," Leandra said one afternoon, glancing from her notes to the clock on the library wall. "Cake."
Beau shook her head. "She brought that yesterday. Probably cookies today." She had joined us to study, even though her course was in the arts. Among us, she was the richest, the kind of woman who never showed up without a Chanel bag.
"For Lauren, not for you," Leandra snapped and rolled her eyes.
"What are you two talking about?" I asked.
Beau grinned. "Your admirer. She usually shows up around this time."
Leandra pulled out her wallet, making me frown. "Five hundred says it's cake."
Beau scoffed and gingerly pulled out her own wallet. "A thousand says cookies," she countered, placing the money on the table as if it were nothing.
"Can you stop?" I sighed. "Megan isn't something to bet on."
Leandra tilted her head. "Then what is she to you?"
Beau leaned closer, both of them waiting for my answer. It had been a long time since Megan started what others might call courting, though that word never felt right. She had said she would support me, and she truly had.
That did not mean it would end in a romantic relationship.
"I just like having her around," I said eventually. "I'm not planning to be in a relationship with her."
Leandra groaned while Beau grimaced.
"You sound like a player," Leandra said. "Keeping her close while giving mixed signals is a huge red flag, Lauren."
Beau snapped her fingers. "You only want her around because she likes you? And what, you'll drop her once you get bored?"
I shook my head quickly. "No. I would never do that to her."
"Then what is she to you?" Leandra asked, clearly confused. "She's been around you for months. You must have some idea of what she is to you—a score to settle, maybe?"
"She sees a part of me no one else ever has, and that softened something in me." I hesitated, then forced myself to be honest. "But I like men and I only sees her as a sister."
When I looked up, both of them had gone completely still, eyes wide, mouths slightly open, nervously nudging each other under the table as they glanced past me. Everything seemed to slow down. The once-quiet library now felt deafening, every thump of my heartbeat echoing in my ears. I slowly turned, and the weight in my shoulders and chest dropped in an instant as guilt hit me. Megan's eyes were glistening, swelling with unshed tears as she stared at us.
How could I be so stupid, so thoughtless, to hurt her like this?
I HAD rehearsed my apology the entire walk to the café, biting my lip at how stupid I'd been—denying my own feelings and hurting her in the process. I liked Megan. Who wouldn't? She was genuine, sweet, and caring. Anyone could fall for her. But I had been too caught up in my own world, too focused on my dreams, to admit it.
And somehow, saying sorry felt harder than any oral exam I'd ever faced. The warm glow of the café lights only made my dilemma sharper. She clearly hated me after that day. Ever since she left, she'd been avoiding me—from campus to the café. Whenever I walked in, she'd have Oriana cover for her, hiding in the back.
I'd been thinking about her constantly, my mind drifting to her even as the bar exams loomed closer. I finally decided—I couldn't deny it anymore. I had to tell her the truth.
My thoughts were interrupted when my phone rang. An unknown number flashed across the screen, stopping me in my tracks.
"Hello?" I answered cautiously.
"This is Thorne Hospital," said a calm, unfamiliar voice. "Your mother, Mrs. Janel Schuett, was brought in after an accident. She is unconscious. We need you to come immediately."
My world collapsed. Without a second thought, I turned and ran, my chest tightening with fear and panic as I headed for the hospital where my mother was. Megan once told me that I made time feel slower, yet valued. But in that moment, I wanted the opposite. I wanted time to move faster, fast enough to get me there before it was too late.
But time was never enough. It felt painfully short, as if everything else had lost its value the moment my mother's life flatlined—before I could even step inside the hospital.
⚠️ Trigger Warning: This following contains mature content not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is advised.
"STOP IT, Lauren." Leandra tried to pry the bottle from my hand, her grip firm. "You've already skipped our mock exam this morning." She finally succeeded, wrenching the bottle away from me.
"Let me drink more, Leandra." I reached for it again, but my vision was already too blurry, her figure splitting into two until I could no longer tell which one was real. "Just give me the bottle, please." My voice trembled as a heavy lump formed in my throat.
Until the tears that I thought have dried up falls again from my eyes as the thought of me burying my mother last week alone and going on with a life alone hurt that I cannot imagine.
I already have no one left, my father died when I was sixteen, and now my mother. I am all alone. All the hard work I poured into my dreams was for them, and now it feels worthless. My mother was never even able to see me inside a courtroom.
"Just-just give me the bottle, please." I sobbed trying to reached out. "If you can't help me, get rid of this pain, just understand."
Beau stood a few steps behind Leandra, who is now frozen holding the bottle. She kept shifting her weight, opening her mouth as if to say something, then stopping herself. Unsure whether saying more would make things better or worse.
"Drinking won't bring anything back," a voice cut through the haze. I looked up, my breath catching as the blurry figure of Megan appeared by the doorway.
Beau and Leandra turned back to her, surprised that she is actually standing in my doorway after that day where I said things that hurt her. The pain just adds more as I see her now that she is here.
She turned to Leandra "It's already 1:15, you still have a scheduled mock test this afternoon, right?"
"Oh shit." Leandra curses, glancing at her wrist watched but hesitated as she turned to me "Lauren get up—"
"I'll handle her from her, just make some excuses to your proctor for now"
Leandra hesitated but after seconds she sighed and finally made up to entrust me to the girl. Beau goes with her as she has important projects to finished too. And when the dorm door closed, we are surrounded with silenced.
I redirected my eyes to the ground and looked for the bottled and when I was about to picked it up again, she kicked it making a crashing sound on the wall that made me flinched.
"What the fuck?!"
"Curse at me, shout and cry" there was an edge to her voice I hadn't heard before. "If that helps to lessen the pain then use me,"
She walked toward me and knelt down, her hands gently lifting my face. When I caught a glimpse of her eyes, they were soft, full of warmth. Her touch seemed to caress every part of me that hurt. I couldn't help it—I melted into her and sobbed, overwhelmed by the fact that I had hurt her, and yet she was here, trying to mend the pain I felt.
"I-I'm so sorry," I choked out, burying my face against her chest and clutching her uniform, embracing the comfort of finally having someone to lean on. Her hands stroked my back slowly, grounding me as I let the tears fall.
"I know exactly why it hurts this much, and I understand what it's like to lose someone you love. But we can't lose ourselves while we grieve. It hurts not only us but also the people who inspired us to keep going." She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "You are my favorite attorney—the one who makes time feel slower but valued. Don't waste that time by letting grief ruin the dreams you worked so hard for, just because they're no longer around. Use it for yourself now."
I felt the warmth of her words seep into my skin, goosebumps rising, my heart inches from breaking. My chest numbed with pain, my thoughts blurring with the dilemma of being alone, yet she was here. Megan, the one who brought the comfort I needed.
I looked up to meet her eyes, her lips tugging into a soft smile as she caressed my cheeks, wiping away the tears I had shed.
"Hush now, my favorite attorn—" The words were not completely out of her mouth when I moved, sealing my lips against hers.
The alcohol in my system gave me the courage, but the feeling was stronger than the drink. She stiffened in shock as I moved my lips, savoring the taste of her strawberry-flavored mouth mixed with the bitterness of the beer I'd had.
Is this what they call liquid courage? When alcohol fuels you to do the things you don't have the guts to do when you're sober.
I groaned quietly, pressing closer, urging her to respond, but she kept her lips shut tight. Her hands hesitated on my shoulders for a second before she recovered, gently pushing me back to separate our lips.
"Why?" I asked. "You didn't like the kiss?"
She bit her lip, her dilated eyes flickering with panic. "You're drunk."
I giggled when she faked a cough to compose herself, even though her ears were already bright red. "Say, Megan." I reached out, caressing her flushed ears softly, but the redness only spread to her cheeks. "If I asked you to do a one-time thing with me... would you agree?"
Her lips parted, then closed again, like she was trying to understand what was happening. She looked completely lost, unable to grasp what I was implying.
"W-we should talk tomorrow when you're s-sober—L-Lauren, ah—" A soft moan escaped her mouth, cutting off her sentence.
Her words fell apart when I buried my face into her neck, nibbling and pressing soft, lingering kisses that made her weak, almost begging me to stop.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, gripping gently, as if anchoring both of us.
"Lauren... you're hurting," she whispered, her breath trembling. "I don't want to make it worse by doing things you wouldn't do with me when you're sober."
My mind was a haze, torn between the pain of being alone and feelings I couldn't put into words. To hell with my life. Couldn't I deal with things one at a time? Why did everything have to happen all at once?
"I'm already hurt," I whispered, shivering against her skin as I pressed butterfly kisses along her neck, up to her cheeks, stopping just short of her lips, our breaths mingling. "But this... being with you makes it better. A moment with you doesn't just slow time—it stops it. And for a moment, I wanted to share that with you and forget that time even exists."
The moment stretched before I pressed my lips to hers again. For a second, I thought she wouldn't return the kiss. But then she surrendered completely.
She kissed me back, her hands settling on my waist, closing the distance until there was no space left. I clung to her, holding onto every ounce of comfort she offered. Slowly, the kiss deepened. Her hands drifted lower, the warmth of her palms against my skin drawing a soft moan from my throat.
Her hand paused at my thigh as she pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine—silently asking for permission.
"I don't know if I should," she said quietly. "I... I don't know."
She blushed, and I let out a soft chuckle, finding her endearing in that moment—unsure, honest, not pretending to know what to do. I shifted my weight as I stood, and she instinctively reached out to steady me. The movement turned clumsy, and before she could react, I pushed her onto the bed, her eyes widening.
"I'll teach you," I said, crawling over her and settling above her. "Trust me. After this, you'll learn a lot."
Her eyes traced every inch of me, and I made sure she didn't look away as I slowly peeled my clothes off. Her breathing grew uneven at the sight of my bare skin.
"Breathe," I murmured, leaning down to kiss her, sharing air with her lips. "Just follow what I do."
My mouth returned to hers, no longer just brushing her lips but deepening the kiss, my tongue slipping inside as she finally matched my rhythm. When she did, my hands began to roam, sliding beneath her uniform, undoing each button one by one until she was bare beneath me.
"Is this okay?" she asked softly, hesitating as my gaze moved over her.
She was more than okay—softer than I had imagined, like porcelain bathed in milk, a toned stomach, a body that felt exactly right beneath my hands.
"You're more than okay," I said, my hands tracing up her stomach and over her chest. "You look so good under me."
She bit her lip to stifle a sound as warmth spread across her skin, turning her head to the side, teeth pressing into her lower lip.
My hand lingered on her right breast, massaging gently before sliding behind her to unclasp her bra. I leaned down, pressing pampering kisses along her collarbone, leaving small bites as I moved to her unclothed chest. I glanced up to see her stealing a peck from me.
With my eyes still on her, I kissed the side of her breast before dragging my tongue over her already hardened nipple.
"Lauren—ah, shit—ah," she moaned as my mouth captured her breast, my other hand giving her left the same attention, fingers kneading slowly until her groan filled the room. When I finished with one, I shifted to the other, my hand roaming lower to her skirt. It wasn't hard to remove—one snap, and she was bare beneath me.
I leaned back to admire her, flushed and breathless. Only one word came to mind as I watched her—beautiful. How ironic that she never failed to tell me how beautiful I was, yet never noticed she was a masterpiece herself.
"Y-your clothes," she heaved. "Take them off too."
She pulled me back before I could get lost in her. She watched as I unclasped my bra, teasing her by slowly caressing my body down to the hem of my shorts. Her throat bobbed as I slid them down, along with my panties. In seconds, we were both bare, eyes full of quiet admiration.
"Do what I did earlier," I told her as I settled above her.Her brows knit in confusion, and I bit my lip to suppress a laugh at how lost she looked. "Suck me too... here," I added, pointing to my chest.
Her eyes widened, her body stiffening at my words.
"You watched me earlier," I said softly, tucking strands of hair behind her ears. "Don't keep me waiting."
She hesitated, then sat up, looking at me as she did what I'd shown her. She worshipped my chest while her other hand mirrored the care I'd given her. I moaned as her warm tongue traced slow circles, a sharp gasp leaving me when she pinched lightly.
"Oh—that's good... ah," I breathed, gripping her hair, pulling her closer without thinking as heat pooled low in my body.
As her mouth stayed busy, her hand drifted down my stomach, spreading warmth until it reached the sensitive spot between my legs. My eyes widened when she cupped me.
"I watched," answering the question in my gaze. "Tell me you won't look at me with regret tomorrow, and I won't stop, Lauren."
Even now, she was asking permission—putting me first. She knew how to hold my heart better than I ever realized. I realized she hadn't been shy earlier. She had been holding back out of respect, and now, my answer would cut through that restraint completely.
I nodded. This time, it wasn't the alcohol—it was my choice.My feelings taking over me.
Her eyes glimmered as she began to move her fingers, watching my reactions like something precious.
"Me—Megan—ah," I moaned as she teased me, slipping just the tip of her fingers inside and tracing my wet entrance.
"One thing to remember tomorrow," a hint of reprimanding in her voice "You wanted this."
My body arched as she finally pressed her fingers deeper inside my core, making me feel full for the first time. I bit my lip as a bit of pain mixed with tingling pleasure surged like electricity through my body.
"Tell me if it hurts," Her voice was full of concern as she placed her arm around the small of my waist to steady me on top of her. "If it hurts, I'll stop."
I only nodded in response as I held onto her shoulder, leaning down to find her lips for ease as she started pumping her fingers slowly. I nibbled on her lips, biting down on her lower lip when I felt the pain. But it did not last long when I finally adjusted to the rhythm of her fingers, and the pain just magically disappeared, replaced with warmth in my core and lower abdomen.
"Ahh, Megan, ahh, it feels good," I moaned, pressing my forehead against hers, I arched and moved my body slowly, keeping time with the motion of her fingers. Her fingers were busy dancing inside my core, moving in rhythms that made everything in me spark with an undeniable mix of feelings.
She kissed my cheeks down to my neck, which I gave her complete access to. She licked my collarbone using the whole surface of her tongue before sucking there, something that would probably leave a mark tomorrow. When she was satisfied with her creation, she gave attention to my chest next, and her pumping fingers moved faster, matching the tightness of my core.
"Me~Megan, I'm~I'm coming~ahh," I groaned, hugging her tightly. As the polite person she was, she moved her fingers not hard and not slow, just right to bring me to my climax.
"I'm coming," I breathed, my breathing labored as I felt myself nearing
With a steady back and forth motion of her fingers, I convulsed, releasing all the heat bottled inside my body. My legs shook as she pressed her fingers deeper one last time before stopping. I struggled to catch my breath, feeling weak as I buried myself against her shoulder. She kissed the side of my head while withdrawing her fingers, lying back while I stayed on top of her, regaining the breath I had lost.
A moment of silence followed, just like the silence when we walked down the street before. It was not awkward nor uncomfortable. She stayed still, saying nothing, hugging me back as I clung to her while lying on top of her. And in that comfort of silence, I felt myself forget the loneliness I had felt earlier as she filled in the empty spaces it left behind.
I MANAGED to go back to my daily life, the one I once considered normal. I took the mock exam the next day, and surprisingly, I wasn't even questioned. The proctor simply let me take it.
Megan and I were back to being something undefined. We were not friends, not lovers, just two people figuring each other out. She never pressured me, never asked about that morning when we woke up naked beside each other. She let things be, giving me the space to decide on my own, and because of that, I admired her even more for respecting me and the dream I was pursuing.
"I will accept anything you can give," she said that morning while we talked in the small kitchen of my dorm. "I will wait until you've cleared things out and you're ready for me."
I promised myself that I would tell her everything she had been waiting to hear after I passed the bar exam.
Months passed and we stayed together through them all. I had already taken the bar exam, and now the results were finally out. I was too nervous to open the results alone. I wanted to see it with her, which was why I was on my way to her dorm.
I fixed my clothes, checked my reflection one last time, and when I was satisfied, I knocked three times and waited. Seconds passed, but she did not open the door.
Is she asleep again?
I tried twisting the knob, and the door opened. How many times had I told her to lock her door when she went to sleep? She always forgot when she was exhausted from her part-time job at teh cafe. The lights were off, so I reached for the switch. When the room lit up, I froze.
"CONGRATULATIONS, MY FAVORITE ATTORNEY!" followed by a confetti popped in the air.
My heart swelled at the sight of the small living area filled with baskets of flowers, my favorite ones, lilies and daisies. She had filled the entire space with them. A large banner hung in the center with a simple congratulations written across it.
"Sorry," holding a cake as she approached me, a huge smile on her lips, her eyes curved with pride. "I got too excited and checked the results first. You're an attorney now. See? I didn't jinx it."
Tears spilled from my eyes as my body shook. I could not believe it. I passed the bar exam. I now an attorney. Her expression softened with worry. She set the cake aside and pulled me into a hug.
"Hey, you're supposed to smile, not cry. This is a happy day."
"I know," I whispered. "I'm just really happy."
She chuckled. "Happy, but you're sobbing." She caressed my hair and kissed the top of my head. "I'm proud of you, but your parents... they're the proudest as they watched you now from heaven"
All the hard work had finally paid off. I was an attorney, not just in her compliments, but in name. None of it would have been possible without her patience and support. She deserved a place in my slow time, to have her feelings valued without more waiting. And I was finally ready to give that to her.
We spent the day celebrating, doing the things we always did. We ate everything she prepared while talking about her plans. I found out she had saved money just to buy the flowers, which made me feel guilty because she should have been spending it on herself. She only smiled and insisted it was worth it.
Later, I sat in the living room, inhaling the scent of lilies while she washed the dishes in the kitchen. I tried to suppress my smile, but it broke free anyway. It was my first time receiving these many flowers.
I placed the lilies beside me and slipped my hand into my pocket, feeling the small box, I had brought earlier. I planned to give it to her today, to finally confess. Inside was a butterfly necklace I had seen in a store, something that immediately reminded me of her.
The butterflies she placed in my stomach. Intense, new, and unfamiliar at first, then slowly turning into calm. A butterfly that is not love itself. It is the moment love announces itself quietly, before it learns how to stay.
My brows furrowed when I noticed an envelope on the table. It was sealed, with a university stamp on the back. My heartbeat quickened as I read where it came from.
"Megan?" I called from the living room. "What is this envelope?"
I picked it up, hoping my eyes were just playing tricks on me. They weren't. The stamp read-- University of Toronto.
"Oh, that's for you," she answered from the kitchen. "It came this morning."
My fingers trembled as I tore the envelope open. The letter inside blurred my vision, blurrying every plan I had made in my head. There were too many words on the page, but only one sentence made me crumble.
Following a thorough review of your application for the Master's program at our university, and in consideration of your outstanding academic record, we are delighted to inform you that you have been offered admission, accompanied by a full scholarship, to undertake a Master of Laws (LL.M.) degree at our university.