Chapter 4

Grayson's fingers ran lightly over the collar of the shirt before he suddenly stood up, turning his back to me.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice tense, "I can't accept this."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I can't pay you back," he said while turning to face me.

His eyes were so vulnerable that it hurt to look at him. He said, "Raven, you've already done so much for me—the scholarship, the study group, and all this.

"But I have nothing to give you in return."

I stood up and met his gaze head-on. "When did I ask you to return me anything?"

The space between us was so small, I could hear both our breaths.

In the dim light, Grayson's eyes looked dark as ink, swirling with emotions I couldn't decipher.

Eventually, he stepped back and carefully placed the shirt back in the box.

"Thank you," he said, his voice soft as a sigh.

After that night, something quietly changed between us. Grayson was still reserved and kept to himself, but the wariness in his gaze faded when he looked at me.

Sometimes in the library, he'd quietly leave a cup of hot milk on my desk. On rainy days, he'd always angle his battered umbrella to shield me from the rain.

When I caught a cold, an anonymous little box of medicine would show up on my desk.

It wasn't until the eve of graduation, when he confessed to me on that rainy night, that everything between us finally became clear.

During graduation season, the air on campus was thick with goodbyes. June weather could change in a heartbeat.

One moment the sun was blazing, the next the sky turned gray. By evening, heavy raindrops were drumming against the library windows in a sharp, staccato beat.

I closed my copy of "Macroeconomics Final Review Guide" and rubbed my tired eyes.

My phone screen lit up with a message from Grayson. [Interview's over. Heading back now.]

I replied immediately: [How'd it go?]

The screen indicated that he had been typing for a full minute before his response finally came through. [It was okay.]

His vague reply made me frown. Grayson was always hard on himself. This response could mean it was a total disaster, or it went so well he couldn't even believe it.

I glanced out the window. The rain was coming down in sheets. Without thinking, I grabbed my umbrella and dashed out of the library.

The rain had turned the campus walkways into little streams, and my canvas sneakers were soaked through almost instantly.

Grayson's dorm was way out in the far west part of campus, and by the time I finally made it there, panting for breath, my pants were drenched halfway up my legs.

"Grayson!" I called out, spotting a familiar figure standing under the awning by the dorm entrance, lost in thought as he stared out at the downpour.

He turned, surprise flickering across his face before he quickly walked over and pulled me under the shelter. "What are you doing here? It's pouring out."

I looked up at him, noticing the tight set of his jaw and the faint dark circles under his eyes. "How did the interview really go? Don't brush me off."

The rain was coming down in sheets, filling the air with its steady roar. Grayson stayed silent for a moment, then suddenly reached into his pocket and handed me an envelope.

The gold-embossed logo of a famous investment bank gleamed on the front.

My hands shook a little as I tore open the envelope and skimmed the letter. When I saw that he had been accepted, I almost jumped up.

I said, "You got in. Oh my god, Grayson. This is one of the top investment banks!"

But instead of joy, his expression darkened even more. "Raven." His voice was barely audible in the rain. "I just got a call from my aunt. My grandma's in the hospital."

The smile on my face froze. "How serious is it?"

"Heart failure. She needs long-term care," he said, repeating the doctor's words like a robot.

His eyes looked empty. "My aunt said if I don't go back, they'll have to put her in a nursing home."

The sound of the rain pounding on the concrete suddenly seemed deafening. I knew just how much Grayson's grandma meant to him. She was his only family.

After his parents left him, his grandmother, who was over seventy years old, made sure he finished high school by picking up trash.

"The company wants me to start my internship next week," Grayson went on in a dry voice, "The training period is six months, and I can't take any time off."

I understood the impossible choice he was facing.

He either had to give up this hard-earned job opportunity to take care of his grandma, or start his career while people accused him of abandoning his only family.