"It means I hope you've learned from your past mistakes. That girl was a distraction then. She'll be a distraction now if you're not careful."
"She's my project partner. I have to work with her."
"Then work with her professionally. Keep your distance otherwise." A pause. "Your father and I didn't facilitate this transfer so you could repeat old patterns." There comes that tone which is her warning.
"You facilitated this transfer to control me."
"We facilitated it because Thornhill has the connections you need for your future. Don't make us regret it."
The implied threat is clear, step out of line and there will be consequences.
"I have class. I need to go."
"Ethan—"
I hang up.
Sit there for a long moment, my phone in my hand, anger simmering under my skin.
This is what I chose. Three years ago, when they threatened Ivy's family. I chose their approval, their money, their vision for my future and I've been paying for it every day since.
Marcus emerges from the bathroom, already dressed for class.
"You look like hell."
"Thanks."
"Rough night?"
"Rough three years."
He doesn't push, just tosses me a granola bar. "Eat something. You've got Business Strategy in an hour."
Right. Business Strategy. Where I'll sit behind Ivy and feel her radiate hatred.
Where I'll watch her be brilliant and composed and everything I destroyed.
Where I'll continue to play the asshole because I don't know how to be anything else.
I get ready mechanically. Shower, dress, gather my stuff. Head to class fifteen minutes early because I know Ivy will already be there.
There she is.
Third row, right side. Color-coded notes ready. Hair pulled back. That jade bracelet on her wrist.
I sit behind her. She stiffens but doesn't turn around.
"Morning," I say.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Talk to me. Look at me. Acknowledge my existence."
"Kind of hard when we need to discuss our project."
"We can discuss it during designated meeting times. Not before class."