The Ring I Threw Back

My boyfriend has a childhood girl bestie.

They grew up together and are tighter than actual siblings. That was exactly how Julian introduced Gemma to me when we first started dating. I believed him.

Until one of his lab mates gave me a reality check.

Riley, you can't just bury your head in your own project. You need to drop by our lab more often.

"Gemma has been practically living at the lab lately. She even left her personal coffee mug on his desk. The whole department is taking bets on when you two are finally going to crash and burn."

Chapter 1

That threw me for a loop. Julian wasn't a player. I trusted him.

If it were any other girl, I might have thrown some snark his way, but Gemma was supposed to be his sister. This had to be pure lab gossip.

Even so, when I happened to drop by his lab a few days later, my footsteps faltered.

Because she was actually there.

The summer heat was brutal, and she had ordered ice cream for the crew. Somebody messed up the headcount, leaving them exactly one serving short.

Gemma held up a cup. "Julian, you'll just have to suffer and share with me."

I froze in the doorway, staring as Gemma brought the spoon right up to his lips.

Julian didn't even tear his eyes away from the monitor. He just leaned back hard against his chair, dodging her outstretched hand with obvious irritation. "I don't do sweets. You know that."

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. My heels clicked sharply against the linoleum floor.

I walked right up behind Julian, draped a hand possessively over his shoulder, and stared dead into Gemma's eyes.

Gemma opened her mouth to say something, but a guy near the entrance finally spotted me. "Riley's here! Come on in."

Julian immediately turned his head. Gemma's hand jerked.

The ice cream tipped over and splattered right down his shirt. Pink. Strawberry, probably.

Julian was a neat freak. He instantly pinched the fabric, shaking it out. "Are you always this clumsy? Give it a rest."

Gemma snapped. She spun around, tossing a glare over her shoulder. "I try to share with you, and you treat me like this? I'm telling your mom."

Julian's expression darkened. "You ruined my shirt, and you're the one throwing a tantrum?"

I knew Julian could be a man-child sometimes, flipping his mood like a switch. If Gemma actually whined to his parents, the ensuing lecture would only make him more unbearable.

I stepped in, blocking her path. "Hold up. Don't go. I'll chew him out for you, okay?"

It ended with Gemma insisting on replacing the shirt. We grabbed an Uber to the mall.

Julian had the height and the build to make anything look decent, but Gemma acted like a personal stylist, running her mouth the entire time and shoving half the racks into his arms to try on.

Bored out of my mind, I wandered around the boutique, mindlessly flipping over price tags. I grew up blue-collar. Stores like this didn't exist in my tax bracket.

Thank God for the floor-to-ceiling mirrors scattered around the shop.

Because in the reflection, I caught Gemma rolling her eyes at the back of my head.

She looked me up and down. Her gaze snagged on my faded, overworn button-down before she let out a soft scoff. A patronizing, plastic smile hooked the corner of her mouth.

I dropped the fabric like I had touched a live wire.

It was high-end material, sure. The chill from the air conditioning seeped right into my fingertips.

Gemma slowly peeled her eyes off me and sauntered away. I stood motionless for thirty seconds before turning and heading back toward the fitting rooms.

Julian stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar. "Gemma, are we done yet?"

She finally gave the shirt her stamp of approval. The cashier boxed it up with practiced efficiency.

"New arrivals are excluded from discounts. That will be seven hundred dollars. Do you have a rewards card with us, ma'am?"

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Seven hundred dollars? Just last week, I bought Julian a sleep shirt on Amazon for fifteen bucks with free shipping.

I stepped forward and grabbed Julian's wrist, about to tell him to drop it, but Gemma already slapped her credit card onto the counter without blinking. "We'll take it."

She shot him a wink. "Usual deal. I buy the clothes, you buy the dinner."

They walked shoulder-to-shoulder out into the concourse.

A vendor from a nearby kiosk immediately swarmed them. "Sir, buy a bouquet for your girlfriend? We're running a special today."

Gemma's lips parted into a grin, clearly about to say yes.

I locked my jaw and stepped right into her personal space. "If you like them, Gemma, I'll get them for you. You bought Julian a gift today. Consider this my way of returning the favor."

Gemma's hand, halfway to the rose petals, snapped back.

Chapter 2

She shot me a sweet, empty smile. "Riley, I've gotten way too many roses in my life. I'm bored of them. Plus, roses are for lovers."

"What exactly are you trying to pull here, Riley? Are you trying to mark your territory for Julian? He doesn't need a watchdog making his decisions."

Right. I couldn't buy her roses, but somehow Julian could?

I spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, twisting my bedsheets until my knuckles ached.

What exactly was Gemma's game? Was she genuinely just playing the oblivious, spoiled little sister card? Or did she actually want Julian, intentionally sabotaging our relationship?

That second thought felt ridiculous. If she wanted him, she had over a decade to make a move. Why wait until now? It had to be the first option.

Terrified that I was just being paranoid, I scrolled through endless Reddit threads until my eyes burned and the sun started bleeding through the blinds. The conclusion was always the same.

I wasn't crazy.

Even if they grew up next door to each other, even if their parents were best friends the second Julian got a girlfriend, he needed to draw a line.

The first time I ever met Gemma was at a campus coffee shop. She had bombed her college admissions and got shipped off to study in Europe, while Julian stayed behind at our local university.

By the time she flew back for her first holiday break, she realized someone else was sitting in the passenger seat of Julian's life. Me.

Back then, I just thought she was a bubbly, outgoing girl. Sure, she reeked of generational wealth and had a spoiled streak, but she seemed harmless enough.

Then she handed me my welcome gift, and my stomach dropped.

It was a Cartier bracelet.

The campus was overcast that day, but those diamonds still managed to catch the dim light and blind me.

I sat on my cheap dorm room bed for hours, refreshing the official website just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. I couldn't wrap my head around a boyfriend's little sister casually handing over a four-figure piece of jewelry.

I asked Julian if I should give it back. "I looked it up online. It's almost three grand. It's way too much."

That one delicate chain cost more than my entire wardrobe combined. I knew I'd never actually wear it.

Julian just waved it off. "She probably bought it duty-free at the airport. Just keep it. It's nothing compared to the trust fund toys my parents buy her."

I have no idea how that conversation made its way back to Gemma, but the very next day, she cornered me. "Riley, I actually need a huge favor. My professor assigned this massive research paper, and it's literally giving me a migraine. Be a lifesaver and pull the sources for me?"

I tried to back out. "You study in Europe. The curriculum is completely different. I'd probably just mess it up."

Gemma grabbed my arm, shaking it like a toddler begging for candy. "Come on. Julian says you're a straight-A genius. You can totally handle it. Don't play dumb."

She actually dropped the entire syllabus and her login credentials into my inbox. It did overlap with my major, but my chest still felt tight.

If I screwed it up, I'd look like an idiot. If I refused, the weight of that Cartier box on my desk would crush me. I owed her.

So, I chained myself to a library desk for two straight weeks and hammered out a research paper that was pretty damn bulletproof.

The exact same week I submitted Gemma's finals, she and Julian flew out to Aspen for a ski trip. Two families. Six people. A private cabin.

Julian had asked me to tag along beforehand.

I had just enough in my savings account to cover the plane ticket, but wiping out months of tips for a seven-day vacation made me physically sick to my stomach.

So I gave him an out. "Just bring me back a souvenir."

He did come back with a suitcase stuffed full of artisan chocolates and tourist traps. He pulled them out one by one, giving me the spark notes version of his trip. "See? I told you the whole story. It's basically like you were right there with me."

As for Gemma, she cut her holiday short and flew back to Europe right after the trip. She didn't come back stateside for years after that.

Judging by her Instagram grid, she was living her best life. She cycled through a parade of trust fund boyfriends and frat bros. Her wardrobe evolved from prep-school innocent to pure, unfiltered thirst traps.

Chapter 3

I figured Gemma would stay in Europe permanently. Instead, the second she got her diploma, she packed up and moved right back to our city.

By then, Julian and I had already graduated and were grinding through our master's programs.

Gemma had zero going on. One minute she was supposedly applying for grad school, the next she was vaguely talking about starting a business with her friends. All talk, zero follow-through.

Julian's mom even vented to me about it once. "Gemma has a good heart, but her parents spoiled her rotten. A young girl with too much time on her hands is just asking for trouble."

Julian and I were solid. His family actually approved of me.

His mom would drag me out to her country club luncheons and introduce me to her friends as her "future daughter-in-law." She'd parade my academic record around like a trophy. Her friends would naturally chime in, praising me for being so grounded and polite.

But I knew better than to say what I was actually thinking.

With the kind of trust fund the Gemmas of the world sat on, she could spend the rest of her life doing absolutely nothing and still live in a penthouse.

She wasn't like me. I didn't have a safety net, so I hustled.

I ground out research, networked with professors, and fought tooth and nail for every project just to build a bulletproof resume. It was the only armor I had.

So, I played the game and told his mom what she wanted to hear. "Gemma has so many options. Taking her time to figure out her next move is actually the smart play."

Total lie.

What I really thought was that Gemma desperately needed to get a damn job.

If only so she'd stop showing up at the lab to drag Julian out for shopping sprees, expensive dinners, and movie dates. It was really getting under my skin.

The only reason I hadn't drawn a hard line yet was Julian's attitude. We'd been together long enough that I knew all his frat brothers.

And he treated Gemma exactly the way he treated the guys. Zero boundaries, brutally blunt, and insulting enough to make anyone want to punch him in the throat.

We didn't track each other's locations, but whenever I brought up Gemma, he never hid anything. I even tried fishing once. "You have all the emotional intelligence of a brick wall. How does she not have other friends to hang out with?"

He completely missed the point. "She was in Europe for years. She just lost touch with her old crowd."

If Julian really was that oblivious, making a huge scene about boundaries would just blow up in my face.

So, I came up with a different play.

Julian had a buddy named Ryder, an old college friend. Ryder had posted online asking for help getting his cousin into an Ivy League grad program.

Normally, I would've ignored Ryder. He was loud, flashy, and annoying. But this time, I stepped up.

I didn't just overhaul his cousin's resume and application packetI personally marched the guy into an advisor's office for a meet-and-greet. It was early in the admissions cycle, but laying the groundwork never hurt.

The cousin's name was Xander. He was tall, bearing a passing resemblance to Ryder, but their vibes were miles apart.

Xander had the kind of sharp, sculpted features that belonged on a billboard, but when he wasn't smiling, his eyes held this dark, brooding intensity.

Xander's undergrad degree was from a no-name state school. Even though he had won some solid academic awards and clearly knew his stuff, the advisor we met with gave us the cold shoulder.

Ryder and Xander looked completely defeated walking out of the building.

I clapped a hand on Xander's shoulder. "Hey, right now it's just about getting your face on their radar. At the end of the day, it's the test scores that get you in."

"Don't sweat it. I'll pull some strings with the alumni network and get you the inside track on the study materials."

Since I pulled a massive favor, Ryder obviously owed me one. He insisted on treating me to dinner.

When he reached for his phone to invite Julian, I casually reached out and tapped his screen, stopping him. "Julian's buried in the lab right now. Let's not poke the bear. If his data runs late, he'll just blame me for distracting him."

Chapter 4

Grabbing dinner alone with Ryder would have definitely raised some eyebrows. But adding his cousin to the mix changed the entire optic.

One girl, two guys, talking about grad school applications over drinkstotally harmless.

I purposely picked a trendy downtown spot. We killed an hour just waiting for a table. By the time we finished eating, it was past ten.

Ryder spent the whole night talking loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear, which only made Xanders brooding silence even more obvious.

Julian and I had a standing routine of calling each other every night. He had already blown up my phone three times, and I let every single one go to voicemail.

I waited until I knew his temper had to be redlining before I finally swiped to answer, hitting the speaker button.

"Riley, where the hell are you? You're not at your apartment and you're dodging my calls."

I made sure Ryder and Xander were within earshot before I answered. "What's the matter? I'm out having a drink with Ryder. I did a favor for him, so he's treating me."

Dead silence hummed over the speaker for ten solid seconds. "Where? I'm coming to get you."

Probably to cover up his own bruised ego, Julian practically shoved his way into the restaurant. He fought Ryder for the check, lost, and then immediately insisted on dragging all of us to the bar next door to buy the next round.

The three of them stood around arguing over the stock market and sports stats. I stood off to the side, sipping my drink and dropping a sarcastic comment here and there to keep the vibe going.

It was late by the time we made it back to my place. Julian walked me to my door but didn't immediately turn to leave.

The night air was thick and humid. He hooked an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and pressed a hard kiss to my cheek. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out with Ryder? And why the hell is your skirt so short?"

I knew exactly what was ticking in his brain.

A few years back, before we were officially a thing, Ryder had poked around to see if I was single. Julian just happened to beat him to the punch, and Ryder backed off.

I widened my eyes, playing totally innocent. "Didn't you say you were stuck at the lab? Besides, it's not like I snuck out behind your back. It's ninety degrees out. Literally every girl is wearing a skirt."

He choked on his words for a second. "Ryder is a guy. His cousin is a guy."

I reached up and gave his cheek a teasing pinch. "Does it matter? I don't breathe down your neck about you and Gemma. Why are you suddenly policing me and Ryder?"

"We've never micro-managed each other's friends before."

That shut him up. He dropped his chin onto my shoulder, rubbing against me like a massive, overgrown golden retriever. "I'm petty. I get jealous. Forget it."

"Let's just make a rule. You don't hang out with guys one-on-one, and I won't hang out with girls one-on-one. Deal?"

That was exactly what I wanted. I arched an eyebrow, dragging out the syllable. "Deal."

My little manipulation tactic worked perfectly. Julian and Gemma didn't hang out alone after that.

But the knot of anxiety in my chest didn't untangle; it just pulled tighter.

Gemma always had a way of making Julian blind to his promises.

She quickly picked up a new boyfriend, dumped him just as fast, and ended up completely wasted at a club at two in the morning. Julian went to scrape her off the floor.

Afraid her parents would lose their minds if she stumbled home drunk, he took her to his off-campus condo instead.

The place was newly renovated and barely furnished. Julian only crashed there occasionally.

He had asked me to stay the night before, completely upfront about it. "My mom bought this place with the explicit instruction that it's going to be my marriage home."

The more earnest he acted, the more I maintained my boundaries. So I had only been there a handful of times, always in broad daylight.

Never in a million years did I think the first person to spend the night there with him would be Gemma. And to make it worse, she was the one who broke the news to me.

First thing in the morning, a random text flashed across my screen.

[OMG, I crashed at Julian's place last night. The mattress in the master bedroom is insanely bouncy. You guys usually have basic taste, but this bed is definitely built for a workout.]

Chapter 5

A hot spike of adrenaline shot straight up from my heels.

I did buy that mattress.

Back when we graduated undergrad, Julian's parents bought that condo under his name. They tossed him the keys and made him handle the renovations as some sort of "real world" exercise.

For the holidays, Julian surprised me with a top-tier MacBook. I needed to return the favor, but I drew a total blank. Luckily, my roommate was picking up shifts at a premium mattress company and had a steep employee discount.

So, I went the practical route. I bought him a mattress.

When the delivery guys hauled it in, Julian laughed so hard he doubled over. He praised my out-of-the-box thinking. It officially became his go-to party story about how "unpredictable" his girlfriend was.

Clearly, Gemma had heard the story.

I dug my nails into my thigh, letting the sharp sting snap me back to reality. I held down the audio button and recorded a voice memo.

[Sure thing. I'll shoot you the sales rep's number. Drop my name, and he'll hook you up with a discount.]

Gemma fired a voice memo right back.

[Oh, no need! My parents have plenty of money. I don't have to pinch pennies over a mattress like you do, Riley.]

The wealth gap between my background and Julian's was the one exposed nerve I had. My biggest fear was people whispering that I was only with him for the money.

Gemma knew exactly where to twist the knife.

I ignored the bait. I pressed the record button again, keeping my tone light and breezy, but laced with a heavy, deliberate sigh.

[I can't help it. I'm already in wife-mode. Building a life together means budgeting for the long haul.]

[But since you're single right now, Gemma, I wouldn't expect you to think that far ahead.]

Radio silence.

I locked my phone screen. A high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears, taking minutes to finally fade into the background.

This had officially crossed the line.

Throwing away a four-year relationship over his childhood friend's petty sabotage was completely out of the question.

Before Gemma moved back stateside, Julian and I had been bulletproof. We were the poster couple of the campus.

I loved him. The financial security he grew up with made him effortlessly confident and radiant. I soaked up his warmth like a sponge, using it to fuel my own drive.

When old high school friends ran into me, they always said college changed me. The truth was, I was just becoming more like Julian.

And I knew Julian loved me without holding anything back.

He always told people he fell for me during freshman orientation. While every other girl complained about the blistering sun and hid in the shade, I was out on the turf, executing every drill with absolute precision.

He said he couldn't figure out how a girl could be that relentless.

Later, during finals week, we pulled all-nighters in the library. He would nod off at his desk, but I would stay wired until dawn, practically rubbing peppermint oil directly into my temples just to keep my eyes open. I refused to settle for anything less than top of the class.

Julian used to shake his head, a mix of awe and amusement on his face. "You're brutal to yourself, Riley. But I love it."

I grew up learning how to fix things. If a shirt tore, you sewed it up; you didn't just throw it in the trash.

Julian was the man I chose. I wasn't going to toss him away over a glitch in the system.

Subtle hints clearly weren't working anymore.

It was time for a direct hit.

Chapter 6

I tracked Julian down and confronted him directly. "You took Gemma back to your place the other night?"

Julian froze for a second. "She told you? I I told her not to say anything."

As if terrified I was about to spiral, he immediately started backpedaling. "It was late, so I didn't text you. We just had a few more drinks at the condo. I passed out, and when I woke up it was already noon."

"But don't be mad. She took the bed, and I took the couch. I swear to God, Riley, we just drank and talked. I remember the promise I made you."

So, he knew he was supposed to keep his distance. But knowing it and actually doing it were clearly two different things.

Now wasn't the time to blow up.

I faked a look of pure shock and gave his arm a light, playful shove. "What are you talking about? Why would I ever suspect you and Gemma? You've called her your little sister for twenty years."

"She goes through a breakup, and you're not allowed to comfort her?"

Julian blinked, looking entirely thrown off by my reaction.

I shifted my tone to something soft and reasonable. "I'm just saying you could have handled it better. If Gemma doesn't come home all night, her parents aren't going to be mad about the drinking, they're going to be terrified for her safety."

"What kind of parents wouldn't panic knowing their daughter is crashing at a guy's place? You should have dropped her off at a girlfriend's apartment."

That was the most rational, understanding spin I could put on it.

Gemma got to play the naive girl, Julian played the loyal friend, which meant I had to play the cool, unbothered girlfriend.

We all had our roles in this little game. It was almost funny.

Ever since I was a kid, I've had this reckless, all-in kind of nerve wired into my DNA.

That was exactly why, when I saw my SAT scores were only good enough for a decent state school, I threw them out. I spent an entire grueling gap year studying just so I could claw my way into a top-tier university.

The gamble paid off. Getting into that school gave me a massive head start. And it put me right in the path of Julian, a guy who clearly existed in a completely different tax bracket.

Later, when we both could have easily coasted into our undergrad's master's program, I forced myself to apply to the Ivy League rival just across town.

It was a do-or-die play. I was so stressed out my skin broke out in hives, but I secured the acceptance letter.

Julian ended up flexing that acceptance letter harder than I did. He bragged to anyone who would listen that his girlfriend was a literal genius.

That was the exact moment his family finally stopped looking down their noses at me and quietly accepted our relationship.

If I was going to fix the cracks in this relationship, backing down wasn't an option.

I thought I had this entire situation played perfectly. Then Julian completely leveled me with a single sentence.

"I already texted her dad. He said they felt completely safe with her staying at my place."

The fake smile froze tight on my face.

Her parents knew? And they were actually fine with it?

I was an absolute idiot.

Gemma crashing at a random guy's place would have been a scandal. But because it was Julian, it was a non-issue.

That childhood-friends-next-door bond was built on decades of absolute trust. It was a fortress. I wasn't going to bring it down with a few carefully chosen words.

I immediately smoothed my features out into a look of absolute relief. "You should have led with that! I was worrying for nothing."

Julian genuinely thought he was in the clear. He stepped in and wrapped his arms around me. "You're the best, Riley. You always get it. I really couldn't say no."

"Her dad practically treats me like a second son. I can't just leave Gemma hanging."

I let him bury his face in my shoulder, my blood running completely cold.

But I couldn't let my temper hijack my brain.

There was always a way to flip the board.

If Gemma's parents didn't care that she spent the night at Julian's, how would Julian's parents react?

After all, they had their son's reputation to protect.

Chapter 7

I waited for an opening and casually dropped the bait for Julian's mom. "Did you know Gemma recently went through a bad breakup?"

She bit immediately. "Oh? What happened?"

I deliberately let the sleepover detail slip. "She got drunk and crashed at Julian's downtown condo for the night. Julian didn't even tell you guys. I was just really worried she might get hurt."

The hand she was using to peel a grape froze mid-air.

I actually braced myself for something reasonable. Instead, she just launched into a nostalgic rant. "Oh, those two. They've always been like this."

"Covering for each other since they were toddlers. One gets into trouble, the other takes the heat"

She rambled on for ten solid minutes, recounting every adorable childhood prank they ever pulled.

A slow, icy numbness spread through my chest. But then again, I should have seen this coming.

His mother was never going to hold Julian accountable. In her eyes, Julian and Gemma were still innocent kids, even in their twenties.

Two decades of shared history and family ties easily outweighed my four-year resume as the future daughter-in-law. If I pushed Julian and Gemma to set boundaries, she'd probably just brand me as a neurotic, jealous girlfriend causing unnecessary drama.

I was completely burnt out on this entire charade.

This precious little childhood bestie was untouchable. I couldn't confront her, couldn't yell at her, and playing nice was a complete waste of time. Logic didn't apply to a spoiled princess.

So what was my move? I racked my brain for three days straight until a strategy finally snapped into place.

If I couldn't build an impenetrable wall between Julian and Gemma, I would just move Julian out of the blast radius entirely.

If I couldn't stop Gemma from showing up at his door, I'd make sure his door was on a different continent. We were both on the academic track. If we applied for PhD programs overseas, it would organically cut Gemma out of the picture.

Plus, from a purely professional standpoint, having an international fellowship on our resumes was a massive power move.

Back before Gemma bulldozed her way back into our lives, Julian and I actually had a serious talk about it. He wasn't thrilled about leaving his comfort zone. But he made it clear that if it meant we were going together, he was down for the ride.

The real roadblock was his family.

All four of his grandparents were in assisted living facilities with failing health. They treated Julian like the absolute center of their universe, which meant his parents would fight tooth and nail to keep him stateside.

So, I had a two-tier contingency plan.

Best case scenario: Julian willingly packs his bags, and his family doesn't block the exit. That completely amputates Gemma's influence over our relationship.

Worst case scenario: Julian wants to go, but his parents veto it. That wasn't a dead end either.

I could gracefully choose to stay behind for his sake. That would saddle Julian with a massive guilt complex, forcing him to naturally distance himself from his overbearing familyGemma included.

It was purely transactional and ruthlessly calculated. But if I played my cards right, it was a guaranteed win.

The decision was locked in.

I needed a flawless resume to secure a full-ride fellowship that would cover all my living expenses. I shifted into overdrive, churning out data and drafting research papers like my life depended on it.

I basically lived in the lab. During my rare five-minute coffee breaks, I'd scroll through social media. Gemma was an exhibitionist by nature, broadcasting every second of her life. I had all her handles tracked.

Her main Instagram grid was carefully curatedthe confident, radiant, relatable trust-fund IT girl. She had a massive follower count, constantly flooded with comments praising her for being a gorgeous angel.

But she also had a Finsta. On her burner account, she was a chaotic messsometimes deeply dramatic, sometimes artsy, and occasionally just straight-up hilarious.

Honestly, if I didn't know the real Gemma, I would have thought the girl behind the Finsta was actually kind of cool. I might have even wanted to be friends with her.

Chapter 8

While I was grinding my teeth and pulling all-nighters to get my research published, Gemma dropped a photo on her main Instagram grid. Five or six friends with their arms slung around each other.

Obviously, Gemma was pressed right up against Julian.

It felt like a needle jammed straight into my ribs.

I had always been so sure Gemma didn't actually want Julian. Every single ex she flexed on her burner account was a certified party boy. Julian was a straight-laced STEM nerd. He wasn't her type at all.

But what if I was dead wrong?

Overthinking made my head pound. When I went downstairs to grab my DoorDash, the sheer exhaustion of working back-to-back night shifts, combined with low blood sugar, finally caught up with me.

My knees buckled. I tumbled straight down the concrete stairs.

I hit the ground hard. My ankle twisted with a sickening crunch, and my forehead scraped against the edge of a step. Warm blood dripped down my temple. I was a total mess.

It was Sunday night. The science building sat deserted. Not a single person came running to investigate the noise.

I dragged myself into a sitting position and unlocked my phone, desperately trying to figure out who could bail me out.

I tapped on Julian's icon. I played the last voice memos we exchanged:

[Julian: It's Gemma's birthday today. We're hitting a karaoke bar. I'll call you when I get back to my dorm later.]

[Riley: Okay. Go easy on the drinks.]

Julian was with Gemma. He was celebrating her birthday. Was this really the right time to call him?

The throbbing in my ankle scrambled my brain. I hovered my thumb over the call button for thirty seconds, unable to make the smartest play.

A pair of shoes stepped into my line of sight. Spotless white sneakers. The owner slowly crouched down until we were eye-level.

Xander.

It wasn't actually that weird for him to be here. Ever since that advisor blew him off, he had been sucking up to the grad students, running errands around the lab to score brownie points. Honestly, his ruthless drive reminded me a lot of myself.

Xander looked down at my bleeding forehead. "Riley, if your boyfriend is too busy playing party host, I can drive you to the ER."

He heard the voice memo?

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "No need. I can get an Uber to the hospital myself."

Xander pinned me to the floor with a single sentence. "There's something wrong between you two. Not that I care."

He held out his hand. "Get up. I'll get you to the ER faster. Aren't you fighting against the clock to get published? Every minute you waste sitting on this floor is time you'll have to bleed for later."

I stared at him for three seconds before slapping my hand into his palm.

Xander was right. Even if I wanted to use this injury to manipulate Julian, I couldn't shoot myself in the foot. I couldn't let a busted ankle derail my research data.

I thought he was just going to offer a token hand up, but he leaned down and effortlessly scooped me right off the floor. The sharp, aggressive scent of mint and tobacco hit me. My head was pressed firmly against his solid chest, and I could hear the steady, heavy thud of his heartbeat.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Xander didn't mess around. In less than an hour, my sprained ankle was taped up, and the doctor handed me some glucose tabs for the blood sugar crash. My CT scan came back totally clear.

It was late, but Xander didn't look tired at all. He methodically smoothed out my hospital discharge papers, sorting them neatly by size, and glanced over. "You can call him to pick you up now."

"What?"

"Call your boyfriend to come get you. His girlfriend takes a brutal fall, and he only shows up after she's already patched up. Seeing you act so perfectly independent that's going to double his guilt."

"That was your game plan all along, wasn't it? Don't worry, I won't blow your cover. Consider this my thank-you for the advisor introduction."

Chapter 9

My brain must have been misfiring. It took me way too long to realize Xander had seen right through my play.

I spent all this time agonizing over setting the perfect trap for Julian, and this guy pieced the entire board together from a few stray sentences.

You do not need to waste breath on your own kind.

I let out a dry laugh. "Since you already figured it out, I'll drop the act."

It was past midnight when Julian's call finally came through, right on schedule. He sounded energized, running high on the party vibe.

"We just wrapped up, but Gemma wants to hit another spot"

I cut him off right on cue. "Have you been drinking? If you've been drinking, just forget it."

"Riley? What's wrong?"

I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to sound raspy and exhausted. "I took a bad fall. I am at the ER right now. If you've been drinking and can't drive, it's fine. I'll just grab an Uber back to campus."

Julian's tone sobered up instantly. "Why didn't you tell me? I should be there with you. Do not move. I am on my way."

I tapped the screen to end the call.

Xander pushed himself off the wall, stretching lazily. "I am out. Have a good night, Riley."

I gave him one last nod of thanks.

Half an hour later, Julian burst through the ER sliding doors.

His panic and guilt were entirely genuine. That was just who he was, all raw emotion and a bleeding heart.

He aggressively flipped through my discharge papers before carefully wrapping an arm around my waist, practically carrying me toward the exit. "You got hurt and didn't even say anything. Riley, let me be the one to do this for you, okay?"

"Seeing you act this independent it kills me."

I shook my head, keeping my smile perfectly understanding. "I know how to prioritize. I just tripped. It is Gemma's birthday, and that only happens once a year. All your friends were there. You couldn't just bail."

The muscles in his arm bunched tight. He stopped in his tracks, his jaw ticking. "And you fall down a flight of concrete stairs maybe once a decade! Alright, alright. I get it. You talk too much."

"No, Riley, I need you to hear this. Gemma is important, but she will never be more important than you."

"From now on, if anything happens, you call me first. Do you hear me? My girlfriend comes before anyone else."

He kept rambling, but I was running on empty. My brain tuned him out.

My gaze drifted past him, landing on the guy standing just outside the glass doors. The harsh, pale glare of the streetlights washed over him, carving out the sharp, cold lines of his profile.

Xander had his head tipped down. He flicked his cigarette butt into the trash can, then lifted his eyes to meet mine.

His stare was completely detached, like he was watching a cheap reality show unfold.

I gave him a barely-there nod.

Xander flashed a quick, sarcastic peace sign, turned on his heel, and melted into the shadows.

Because of that fall, Julian waited on me hand and foot. He spent practically every waking hour glued to my side, bending over backward to keep me entertained. If I hadn't practically shoved him out the door, he would have skipped going home for the weekend entirely.

But my endgame wasn't just scoring boyfriend points.

I used the hospital follow-ups as an excuse to get everything checked out. Insomnia, stomach issues, the works. I booked back-to-back specialist appointments.

One of the doctors really came through for me. He pulled up my blood panels and looked dead serious. He spent twenty minutes lecturing me about how chronic stress, sleep deprivation, and a trash diet were destroying my immune system.

"You cannot just run on fumes because you are in your twenties. You are going to burn out entirely."

He shot a pointed look at Julian. "Make sure she actually takes care of herself."

Waiting for the prescriptions at the pharmacy, Julian looked visibly rattled.

He chose his words like he was walking through a minefield. "Riley, I know you hustle harder than anyone. But I need to say this you really do not have to push yourself to the absolute breaking point."

"What?"

"You can take a breather. I have always got your back. I am going to take care of you. I swear."

I froze, my throat completely tight. I did not say a word for a long time.

Chapter 10

Julian thought he had crossed a line and immediately scrambled to fix it. "I am not saying you shouldn't grind. I am just saying you have me. You can lean on me."

"Look, my family isn't crazy rich, but covering both of our living expenses is more than doable."

Given his parents' wealth and how much they completely spoiled him, "more than doable" was the understatement of the century.

I shook my head, locking eyes with him. "The fact that your family is so well-off is exactly why I hustle this hard."

"Riley?"

"Do you think I don't get exhausted? Do you think I don't want to just crash and sleep for a week? But I can't."

My voice cracked perfectly on cue. "Because I don't have a safety net."

In all these years, I had never really dumped my baggage on Julian. To him, I was always the relentless overachiever, bulletproof and physically incapable of quitting.

But this time, I laid it all out. I told him about the countless times over the years I had felt completely inadequate.

I learned most of my social grace just by watching him. He navigated high-society settings so effortlessly that it made me feel like a clumsy toddler. Sometimes I would literally memorize the unwritten rules of networking in my head, repeating them until they became second nature.

On our first real vacation together, we dropped nearly a grand. I insisted on splitting the bill down the middle.

My phone died on the flight back, forcing me to buy a replacement. I lived off instant ramen for two straight weeks just waiting for my campus job paycheck to clear.

When the stress of grad school applications made my skin break out, my roommate suggested some high-end skincare line. I couldn't afford a single bottle. Instead, I ran laps around the track every night until I was drenched in sweat, purely because sweating was free detox.

It wasn't until I secured my acceptance to an Ivy League master's program that I finally scraped together the courage to meet his parents.

I was like a stray dog hiding behind a pedigree collar; I needed that elite school name slapped across my chest just to feel worthy of sitting in their living room.

But getting into the program didn't magically fix everything. One of my lab mates was a trust-fund princess who basically bought everyone's loyalty with expensive coffee runs and catered lunches.

I was broke. I couldn't throw money at the problem. So I took a different angleI spent hours tutoring the underclassmen, patiently walking them through every glitch in their data. It was the only way I could build enough social capital to rival her checkbook.

Even when we talked about applying for PhD programs overseas, I wasn't like Gemma. I didn't have parents who could just casually wire half a million dollars for tuition.

I had to rely entirely on full-ride fellowships. I would even drop my target schools down a tier if it meant a guaranteed stipend.

That was the reality. No matter how confident and bulletproof I acted on the outside, I was constantly looking over my shoulder.

The root of all that anxiety was simple: I was terrified that a blue-collar public school grinder like me would never actually be enough for a guy raised with a silver spoon.

When someone who never breaks finally shatters in front of you, the impact is devastating.

Ripping my chest open and showing him all my ugly, bleeding insecurities worked exactly the way I calculated.

Julian's eyes went red rimmed. "Riley, stop. Don't do that to yourself. You are incredible. I have never, not for a single second, thought you weren't good enough for me."

He reached out, pulling me in tightly. "From now on I am just going to love you harder. I am going to make you see what I see. Okay?"

I knew he meant every word. Stripped of all his privilege, Julian had a deeply genuine core. Once he trusted you, he handed over the keys to his entire life with zero defenses.

I let out a watery laugh, reaching up to tap the bridge of his nose. "You idiot. You already treat me perfectly. How are you going to love me any harder? Are you trying to put every other boyfriend out of business?"

Julian didn't laugh back. His eyes were locked on mine, burning with a sudden, intense resolve.

I could guess exactly what gears were turning in his head. This was the exact destination I had spent the last hour steering him toward.

We had been together for five years. Taking the next step was the only logical progression.

Honestly, if Gemma hadn't bulldozed her way back into our lives, I never would have resorted to maneuvering Julian into making this kind of commitment.

But giving him a little shove at the perfect moment wasn't exactly a crime, either.

Chapter 11

For the next few days, Julian was glued to his phone, constantly texting his friends with a secretive smirk. Whenever I borrowed his phone, I purposely ignored the push notifications popping up about romantic event decor out for delivery.

The weather had already started to cool down. A random day in early autumn marked my twenty-fourth birthday.

Julian was obviously making his move tonight.

I played dumb, pretending to believe he just booked a dinner reservation to celebrate me turning a year older.

But when I actually walked into the venue and saw the setup, my breath caught in my throat.

Julian had flown in a dozen of our mutual friends. He was wearing a tailored suit, his hair meticulously styled for once.

He dropped to one knee, snapped open a small velvet box, and looked up at me in front of a completely silent room. "Riley, marry me."

The projector in the center of the room cycled through a slideshow of our lives over the past five years. Photos of us studying for midterms, competing in hackathons, hitting up frat parties, and taking road trips.

You could see my makeup getting sharper over the years, and Julian's frat-boy energy settling into something more refined.

The sheer happiness captured in those frames was undeniably real.

I stared at the diamond ring in his hand. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, but I kept my spine perfectly straight, took a slow breath, and forced the burn out of my eyes