Chapter 16 #2
She left that in on purpose, he realized. She wanted people to see.
And at the end, when the sun set over the water in that ridiculous tropical display, her voice returned one final time:
"I came to this island looking for content. I left with something I didn't know I needed—a reminder that some things are worth protecting, even when it's hard. Even when it's scary. Even when you might get hurt."
The screen faded to black, then displayed a donation link for SPECA's marine conservation fund.
Alex realized his face was wet.
He scrolled to the comments with shaking hands.
This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen on this platform.
I literally cried. Who is this marine biologist?? He sounds amazing.
Just donated $50. This is what influencing should be.
Lily, this is your best work ever. Please do more like this.
The way she talks about him... there's definitely more to this story.
That last comment had over twenty thousand likes.
Alex closed the app, then opened it again. Closed it. Opened it.
The donation counter at the end of the video showed $427,000 and climbing.
In five weeks, Lily St. John had raised more money for marine conservation than Alex's last three grant proposals combined.
She'd taken their heartbreak and turned it into something meaningful.
While he'd been wallowing in self-pity, she'd been changing the world.
You absolute coward, he thought. You complete and utter fool.
The next morning, Alex sat in his office, staring at a blank email draft.
Dear Lily,
No. Too formal.
Lily,
I saw the video. It was—
What? Beautiful? Devastating? The emotional equivalent of being hit by a truck?
I should have said something before you left. I should have—
His phone buzzed, interrupting his spiral of inadequate sentences.
A text from his supervisor, Dr. Patricia Okonkwo: My office. Now. Good news.
Alex abandoned the email and headed down the hall, grateful for any distraction from his own incompetence.
Patricia looked up when he entered, her silver-streaked braids framing a face that currently wore an expression of barely contained excitement. "Have you seen the donation numbers?"
"I've... heard there's been some interest."
"Some interest?" She laughed, spinning her monitor to face him. "We've received over $425,000 since an influencer posted a video about Ilot Serenite. And it's still climbing." Her eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Alex's face felt hot. "I might have collaborated with someone during my research trip."
"Collaborated." Patricia's lips twitched. "That's one word for it. I've watched the video, Alex. Whoever this woman is, she made your work sound like the most important thing on the planet."
"It is the most important thing on the planet," he said automatically.
"Yes, well, now other people think so too. Which brings me to the good news." She leaned forward, her expression shifting to something more serious. "I've been in discussions with the creator of the video about an ongoing partnership with SPECA. She's flying out from Los Angeles."
Alex's heart stuttered. "She's coming here?"
"Tomorrow morning. Ten o'clock." Patricia studied him with an intensity that made him want to squirm. "I get the sense there's more to this story than you're telling me."
"It's complicated."
"Isn't it always?" She waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever happened between you two, I don't want it interfering with the best publicity opportunity this organization has ever had. This meeting is important, Alex. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Good." Patricia's voice softened slightly. "And Alex? In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you react to anything the way you reacted when I said her name. Whatever that means—figure it out."
Alex left her office in a daze.
Tomorrow. Lily would be here tomorrow.
He had less than twenty-four hours to figure out what the hell to say.
Sleep was a joke.
Alex spent the night cycling through every possible version of the conversation he might have with Lily. Apologies. Explanations. Declarations that ranged from poetic to pathetic and back again.
Nothing sounded right.
I'm sorry I was too scared to ask you to stay.
True, but insufficient.
I love you, and I should have said it before you left.
Also true, but she might not believe him. Why would she? He'd had countless chances and wasted every single one.
I know I don't deserve another chance, but—
No. That sounded like groveling. But maybe groveling was appropriate? Maybe groveling was the minimum after what he'd put her through?
At 5 AM, he gave up on rest entirely and went for a run along the Charles River. The familiar rhythm of feet on pavement usually helped him think, but today his thoughts were a hurricane that no amount of cardiovascular exercise could calm.
She raised over $400,000 for your cause. She made you sound like a hero. She did everything you were too scared to do.
And you couldn't even tell her you loved her.
Alex stopped running, hands on his knees, breathing hard.
Love.
There it was. The word he'd been avoiding for weeks. The truth he'd buried under logic and self-protection and fear.
He loved Lily St. John.
Loved her humor and her resilience and her stubborn refusal to let him wallow in his own misery. Loved the way she challenged him, pushed him, made him want to be better than the closed-off man he'd become.
Loved her in a way that terrified him because it mattered so much.
The question was, what was he going to do about it?
At 9:47 AM, Alex stood in the lobby of SPECA headquarters, pretending to review emails on his phone while his heart attempted to beat its way out of his chest.
The building was a converted warehouse near the harbor—all exposed brick and industrial windows, the kind of place that photographed well for donor presentations. Today, the morning light streamed through the windows in golden sheets, illuminating dust motes that danced like confetti.
She'll be here any minute.
What are you going to say?
He'd rehearsed a dozen different speeches during his morning shower, each one worse than the last. In the end, he'd decided to just... be honest. Whatever that turned out to mean in the moment.
The elevator dinged.
Alex's head snapped up.
And there she was.
Lily stepped into the lobby with the confident stride of a woman who'd come to do business—because of course she had, that was exactly what she was here for.
She wore a sage green blazer over a cream silk blouse, her wild curls tamed into something almost professional, though a few rebellious strands had already escaped around her face.
She was beautiful.
She was here.
She hadn't seen him yet.
Alex watched her scan the lobby, checking her phone, looking for whoever was supposed to meet her. Her shoulders were set in that determined way he recognized—her armor, the professional persona she wore when she needed to be strong.
Move, he told himself. Go to her. Say something.
But his feet felt like they'd been nailed to the floor, and his throat had apparently forgotten how to form words.
Lily turned toward the reception desk, presumably to check in. In another thirty seconds, someone would whisk her away to a conference room, and he'd have missed his chance. Again.
No.
Not this time.
"Lily."
Her name came out rougher than he intended, barely above a croak.
She froze mid-step. Turned slowly. And when her green eyes found his across the lobby, Alex braced himself for... something. Recognition. Maybe even warmth.
What he got was ice.
Her expression shuttered so fast he almost missed the flicker of surprise beneath it. When she spoke, her voice was cool and professionally distant—the voice of a woman who'd spent five weeks packing away whatever feelings she’d had for him.
"Alex." A pause. "I didn't realize you'd be part of the meeting."
"I'm not." He was moving now, finally, his feet carrying him toward her. "I mean, I wasn't supposed to be. I just—I needed to see you."
Something flickered in her eyes—hurt, maybe, or anger—before the professional mask slammed back into place. "I'm here for a business meeting. If you'll excuse me, I don't want to be late."
She started to turn away.
"Lily, wait—"
"For what, exactly?" She stopped but didn't face him fully, her profile sharp against the morning light. "I have a meeting with Dr. Okonkwo in ten minutes."
"I know. I just—I watched your video." The words tumbled out, graceless and desperate. "It was incredible. What you did with the footage, the donations, all of it—"
"Thank you. That's very professional of you to say."
Professional.
"That's not—" Alex ran a hand through his hair, frustration building. "Lily, can we talk? Please? There are things I need to say—"
"You had five weeks." Her voice was steady, but he caught the tremor beneath it. "Five weeks, Alex. You could have called. You could have emailed. You could have sent a carrier pigeon for all I care. But you didn't."
"I know. I was—"
"You were what? Too busy? Too important?" She finally turned to face him fully, and the hurt in her gaze skewering him in the gut. "Or just too scared? Because that's kind of your thing, isn't it? Being too scared to actually say what you feel?"
The words carved through him because they were true. Every single one of them.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I was scared. I am scared. But Lily—"
"Ms. St. John?"
They both turned to find a young woman in SPECA-branded attire approaching with a tablet clutched to her chest. "I'm Dr. Okonkwo's assistant. She's ready for you in the conference room whenever you'd like to head up."
Lily's professional smile snapped back into place so quickly it made Alex's chest ache. "Perfect. Thank you. I'll be right there."
The assistant nodded and stepped back to wait at a respectful distance.
Alex's heart was pounding. "Lily, please. Just give me five minutes after your meeting. That's all I'm asking."