Author's Preface
[6 Years Ago]
[Kai]
James.
A week later, the name is still lodged in my mind.
I hate how much space it's taking up.
It's getting harder to focus on anything else.
Annie has a right to think about someone else.
She isn't with me.
She has no reason to explain herself.
So why does the thought still bother me?
I blow out a slow breath, forcing my eyes back to my textbook.
My phone vibrates on the desk.
It's Lucas.
"Kai... please talk to Mom," Lucas blurts out the second I pick up, his voice tight with desperation. "She's bringing Mr. Hart back. I can't stand him, Kai. You know how he is. Please, she'll listen to you."
"Calm down, Lu," I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Put Mom on."
I hear voices in the background before Cindy comes onto the line.
"Cindy, why Mr. Hart again?" I ask, keeping my tone carefully measured. "You know how hard he is with Lucas."
"He's qualified, Kai, and he gets the results," she replies, sounding drained. "Lucas keeps insisting on a younger tutor—someone more like you, someone he can actually talk to. Where am I supposed to find that?"
"It's not difficult. You can have the administrative staff post a listing. There are plenty of capable graduate students."
"You know I don't trust strangers with your brother," she says flatly. "I'm only comfortable doing this if the credentials are airtight."
She pauses, the line quiet for a beat.
"What about someone from your university? It's prestigious enough, and if they're studying where you are, I'd be much more open to it."
I hesitate.
It seems unnecessary when we have access to agencies abroad, but there's no point arguing with Cindy once she's made up her mind.
I let the argument die before it starts.
"Fine. I'll look into it," I say.
"Thank you, Kai. You know I trust your judgment over the staff's."
I acknowledge it, and a moment later, we end the call.
The request still doesn't make much sense to me, but I let it go.
[ *** ]
"What about Henry?" Mark asks later that afternoon when I bring it up.
I pause, thinking about it for a moment. "Henry? I don't know."
"You should consider him," Mark says, leaning back. "His academic record is top of the class, right up there with Annie."
Her name catches me off guard, but I keep my expression neutral.
"We both know Henry," Mark continues. "He's easygoing, he's attended seminars overseas, and he's already doing remote work for a global firm. His résumé is solid."
"Will he even have time?" I ask. "He's entirely consumed with his campaign."
"Depends on what you're paying. What's the rate?"
"I'm not sure. Two hundred an hour? I'd have to verify."
Mark stops midway through taking a sip of his iced tea, staring at me like I'd spoken in riddles.
"Is that too low?" I ask, frowning slightly. "I can ask for more—"
"How deep are your family's pockets?" Mark shakes his head with a disbelieving laugh. "Of course Henry will take it. I'd bet on it. He needs campaign funds right now. Call him."
[ *** ]
Within forty-eight hours, the contracts are processed after a thorough background check, and Henry is officially signed on as Lucas's tutor.
Lucas is thrilled, and Henry is happy to have the extra income.
Because of my family's standing, Henry is required to sign a strict non-disclosure agreement.
He doesn't know the full extent of my background, but he knows enough to realize the persona I maintain on campus isn't the person I am outside it.
It isn't an arrangement I am entirely comfortable with, but seeing Lucas happy makes it tolerable.
[ *** ]
The unexpected side effect of this new arrangement is that Henry has immediately started pulling me into his circle.
Mark had been right about one thing: Henry is a social creature.
He has been dragging Mark and me along to his campaign gatherings under the excuse of work only for those events to turn into dinners, parties, or gatherings that have little to do with politics.
Sometimes they're large public mixers.
Other times, they're smaller get togethers at local bars.
Before I realize it, I find myself routinely surrounded by crowds of people I barely know, mostly women.
I don't particularly drink cheap beer, but after a long week, I find myself holding a can just to blend in.
For a while, it helps me forget everything else.
No family meetings. No expectations. No scrutiny.
Just noise, people, and a little freedom.
[ *** ]
Standing at the library entrance while Henry waves a notebook around like a signal flag is not how I imagined spending my afternoon.
I shift my weight, staring at the polished floor tiles, quietly regretting the exact series of bad decisions that has landed me here.
And then I see her.
Annie steps through the library doors, slinging her canvas bag over her shoulder.
A sudden tightness grips my chest, and I stiffen instinctively.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Henry beams, completely unbothered by the quiet scene he is causing. "I stumbled upon my man."
Before I can step back, Henry's heavy arm drops over my shoulder, pulling me right into her line of sight.
"Annie, meet my baby boy Kai," Henry announces cheerfully, oblivious to the sudden, suffocating silence that falls between us. "Kai, this is Annie."
Even though we technically met weeks ago, Henry insisted on introducing us again, saying that she doesn't really remember me.
She'd had quite a bit to drink that night, and I'd made no effort to draw her attention.
So she probably doesn't remember me.
She offers a small, polite smile and extends her hand.
I stare at her outstretched fingers.
My mind goes strangely quiet.
And then for some reason, James comes to my mind again.
I've spent the past week trying not to think about him, but the name keeps finding its way back into my head.
Mostly because I still don't understand why the thought of Annie thinking about someone else bothers me this much.
It's ridiculous.
I've shaken hands with countless people.
There is nothing unusual about this.
But for some reason, I keep noticing her—the way she moves, the way she carries herself, without even meaning to.
I hesitate, suddenly too aware of my own hand.
What if she notices I'm nervous?
For some reason, I can't bring myself to take it.
Instead of shaking her hand, I give her a small, stiff wave, pulling my arm back before I make a total fool of myself.
I catch the subtle press of her lips, the tiny flash of irritation in her eyes.
She probably thinks I ignored her on purpose.
If only she knew how nervous I am standing here, trying to act like I'm not.
[ *** ]
We end up at the canteen, Henry talking enough for the three of us while I sit across from her in near silence.
I keep my guard up, but my attention keeps drifting towards her.
I notice the loose strands of hair falling around her face, the way she holds her cup, the slight change in her expression whenever Henry tells a bad joke.
I look away whenever she turns in my direction, only to find myself looking again a few minutes later.
Eventually, I do it again.
And this time, she notices.
Our eyes meet and I hold her gaze for half a second before looking down at my coffee.
It's probably easier this way.
Let her think I am distant.
Let her mistake my silence for indifference.
I can live with that.
I'd rather she think I'm indifferent than know how much she affects me.