Chapter 36
Graduation is just days away, and I should be over the moon. But instead of being excited, my stomach’s been in knots. There’s a conversation hanging over me, one I’ve been putting off for far too long. I need to tell Calvin something… something big.
These last two months have been a whirlwind.
My designs have finally started getting noticed, largely thanks to Calvin.
He’s been wearing my pieces everywhere: gallery openings, parties, even casual dinners with his friends.
Every time he steps out in something I’ve made, my inbox floods with messages.
A few job offers even came through. After a lot of back-and-forth (and more sleepless nights than I care to admit), I accepted a position with a startup under Vogue.
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
The only catch? It’s in New York. And Calvin’s life, his work, his world, is in Boston.
In true Calvin fashion, he decided to fly my grandparents and Abigail out to Paris so we could all be together for my graduation.
And while things between my family and me have been…
complicated, I’m actually looking forward to seeing them.
It’ll be the first time everyone—my grandparents, Abigail, and Calvin—is all in the same room.
Will it be awkward? Probably. But we’ll figure it out. Hopefully.
Ryan came to visit a few weeks ago, just the two of us walking through the city, grabbing coffee, talking about everything and nothing. He promised he’d be back for graduation, and I can’t wait to see him again.
Now, I’m packing up my apartment for the hundredth time, chatting with Inès and Meghan over FaceTime as I stuff clothes into my suitcase.
“I still can’t believe we won’t be there,” Meghan sighs, her breast pump humming in the background. “It’s killing me that we’re missing your big day.”
“I know,” I say, folding a shirt into a neat square. “But it’s my fault. I didn’t tell you guys in time. And you’re in Canada, Meg. I get it.”
“Still,” Inès adds, voice full of guilt, “it’s your graduation, Blair. We should be there, ugly crying and throwing confetti.”
I smile. “You two are always dramatic. But honestly? It’s okay. You’ve both shown up for me in every way that matters. More than once.”
Meghan’s voice turns serious. “Well, when you’re settled in New York, we’re flying down. And we’re throwing you a celebration so big the city will never forget it.”
My throat tightens. I blink quickly, trying not to get emotional. “Thank you. That means more than you know.”
“You’d better send us photos,” Inès says. “I want every angle. Every dress. Every shoe. No excuses.”
“Don’t worry. You’re getting a full photo dump. I’ll even include some blurry candids for authenticity.”
Meghan laughs. “Good. Now, when’s the fam getting in?”
I glance at the clock on my wall: 11:30 AM. “They should be landing in about an hour. Calvin booked an Airbnb for all of us to stay in together.”
“Oof. That’s going to be… cozy,” Inès teases.
“And?” Meghan prompts, raising her brows. “Are you finally going to tell them?”
I pause, fingers frozen over a pair of jeans. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “I have to.”
“You’ve got this,” Inès says gently. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone.”
“Exactly,” Meghan adds. “Worst case, we come to Paris and kidnap you.”
I laugh, tension easing. “Thank you. Both of you.”
They just smile at me through the screen, and for a second, I feel like I can breathe again.
After hanging up, I glance around my apartment one last time, letting the silence settle in.
Every detail, the chandelier in the foyer, the view, the faint scent of lavender from the diffuser, feels like it’s imprinting itself on my memory.
Paris has been a dream. But dreams, no matter how beautiful, have to end eventually.
Life is calling me forward, and I can only hope the next chapter holds even half the joy and clarity this one brought me.
After a quick shower, I wrap myself in a towel and check my phone. A message from Calvin lights up the screen.
Sir
Landing early, 30 minutes. Can’t wait to see you.
My heart skips. Thirty minutes? I fly into motion, rushing to get dressed. I slip into a tight, tan ankle-length dress. Then throw on a coat, because winter in Paris is no joke. I swipe on some mascara, toss my essentials into my carry-on, and drag my suitcase to the door before calling an Uber.
The drive out of Paris stretches longer than it should, each passing minute thick with anticipation.
Outside the window, the city is draped in winter’s muted tones, cobblestone streets slick from last night’s rain, bare trees reaching up into a silver sky.
Every rooftop looks dusted in frost, and the air has that quiet, heavy stillness unique to January mornings.
By the time we pull up to the gated neighborhood, I’m practically vibrating.
The area is a blend of old-world French charm and modern elegance, with manicured hedges, cobblestone drives, and sweeping estates tucked behind ornate iron gates.
I step inside the Airbnb using the code Calvin sent me. The house is breathtaking.
A modern, three-story masterpiece with six bedrooms, five bathrooms, and every luxury imaginable: pool, jacuzzi, theater room, game room, yoga studio, and even a massage room.
The marble-finished kitchen gleams in the natural light spilling through massive windows, and the terrace opens to a view that could quiet even the loudest thoughts.
It’s all so… Grand yet thoughtful. Impressive without being cold.
I barely have time to finish the tour before I hear a car pulling up outside. My heart leaps. I rush to the door.
My parents step out first, and just like that, I’m running.
“Mom! Dad!”
They open their arms at the same time, and I crash into them, laughter and tears tangling in my throat.
“Sweetheart, we’ve missed you so much,” my mom says as she wraps me tightly against her.
My dad follows with a warm, grounding hug, his hand on the back of my head like when I was little. “You look amazing. We’re so proud of you.”
Then he grins. “And you can start calling us Grandpa and Grandma now.”
I pull back, blinking. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he chuckles. “I’ve always wanted to hear it.”
Grandma chuckles beside him. “You’ll get used to it,” she says with a wink.
“Okay, okay, Grandpa, Grandma,” I say, trying it on like new shoes. “It sounds weird, but I’ll work on it. How was the flight?”
“Smooth,” Grandpa says, glancing over his shoulder just as Calvin steps out of the car.
My breath catches.
God, he looks good. Hair freshly trimmed, a perfectly tailored coat framing his broad shoulders, and that quiet confidence in every step he takes. My pulse quickens without permission.
I offer him a small smile, a little shy under so many eyes. “Hi, Calvin. Thank you for bringing them. Really.”
His smile softens something in me. “It was my pleasure,” he says.
Behind him, Abigail lingers near the car, looking hesitant.
Without giving it a second thought, I cross the distance and pull her into a hug.
“Hi, Abby. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby,” she says, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Are you excited to finally be done with school?”
“Excited doesn’t even cover it,” I say, and Abigail laughs, looping her arm through mine.
As we step inside, both she and Grandma gasp in unison at the sheer grandeur of the house.
“Wow, look at this place!” Abigail exclaims.
“Tell me about it,” I reply, grinning. The excitement is infectious, buzzing through all of us as we begin to explore.
We wander from room to room, marveling at the shimmering pool out back, the opulent theater room with its velvet-lined walls, and the playful charm of the game area.
Every space feels thoughtfully curated, like Calvin handpicked a dream home just for this weekend.
I can’t even imagine what this must’ve cost.
Meanwhile, Calvin and my grandfather are unloading the luggage.
I catch glimpses of him, his movements steady and purposeful, his attention drifting toward me every so often.
There’s a quiet tension simmering beneath the surface, a shared awareness between us.
We agreed today’s the day we’d tell them.
Officially. While no one in my family has said anything outright, I’m sure the signs are there.
Abigail knows everything, of course, and Grandma has an inkling, but I don’t know if Grandpa knows just yet.
Still, for now, no one says a word.
The house slowly fills with the comforting hum of family, laughter echoing off the walls, familiar voices mixing with the sound of unpacking.
And just like that, the nerves that had gripped me all morning began to loosen their hold.
For a moment, I let myself breathe it all in: this joy, this rare experience of everyone I love in one place.
My phone is buzzing in my hand. It’s a text from Calvin.
Sir
Meet me in the theater room.
My pulse skips.
I glance around, see no one’s paying attention, and quietly make my way down the hall. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps as I push open the heavy double doors and step inside.
The theater room is stunning in the quiet.
Lined in dark, sound-absorbing fabric and lit by soft amber sconces, it feels like its own little world.
The leather recliners stretch out in neat rows, and the faint scent of cedar lingers in the air.
It’s luxurious, yes, but comforting, too.
The kind of space you could disappear into for hours.
I walk toward the front, letting my fingers trail along the top of a seat, when I hear the door ease shut behind me.
I turn, and there he is.
He crosses the room without a word, his eyes locked on mine. When he reaches me, he doesn’t hesitate; his arms slide around my waist, pulling me into him like he’s been waiting months to do just that. I melt into his hold, his cologne grounding me instantly.