CHAPTER SIX
Graduation
JULIETTE
I wake before my alarm.
Adaline is still asleep beside me, sprawled in a way that would’ve been impossible when we first moved here. Back then, she slept light. Alert. Like rest was a risk. Now her breathing is slow, deep, unguarded. One arm is slung over the pillow, hair tangled, lashes resting softly against her cheeks.
I just watch her.
It hits me all at once, heavy and sudden.
It’s graduation day, years of hard work and it’s finally happening.
She did this all alone, with no safety net and no parents to clap for her along the way.
Just grit and stubbornness and a refusal to stop moving forward, even when it would’ve been easier to give up.
I lean over and press a kiss to her shoulder. She stirs, groaning quietly.
“Don’t,” she mutters. “Too early.”
I smile. “It’s graduation day.”
She opens one eye. “That sounds fake.”
I laugh softly. “It’s not.”
She rolls onto her side, burying her face into my neck like she’s trying to hide from it. “Can we skip it?”
“No.”
“Can I pretend it’s not happening for ten more minutes?”
I kiss her temple. “You can try.”
She sighs, then finally pushes herself upright, running a hand through her hair. “Okay. Okay. I’m up.”
The gown hangs on the wardrobe door, pressed and waiting. It looks heavier than it should. She stares at it for a long moment.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods once, then again, like she’s convincing herself. “I just didn’t think I’d ever get here.” She almost gave up a few times but always bounced back. I had no idea how grueling it was to study medicine.
I step closer and straighten the collar of her shirt, my fingers lingering. “You didn’t get here. You built here.”
Her mouth twitches. “You always say things like that.”
“Because they’re true.”
She leans in and kisses me, slow and grounding. “Thank you for staying.”
“I was never leaving,” I say.
By the time we arrive, Oxford is alive.
Graduates in gowns flood the courtyards, caps crooked, nerves buzzing. Families cluster together, cameras out, voices loud with pride. I spot Adam near the seating area immediately, tall and unmistakable, scanning the crowd like he’s guarding it. When he sees Adaline, his face splits into a grin.
“There she is,” he says, pulling her into a hug. “Graduate.”
She hugs him back hard. “You made it.”
“Obviously,” he says. “I wasn’t missing this.”
He looks at me next, softer. “You ready?”
I shake my head. “Not even close.”
We sit together while Adaline joins the other graduates.
I watch her walk away, gown swaying, shoulders squared.
She looks steady. The ceremony blurs until it doesn’t.
Names echo. Applause rises and falls. I clap for strangers even though I couldn’t care less about any of these people. Then I hear her name.
“Adaline Emery!”
My heart stutters.
She stands.
Time slows.
She walks across the stage like she owns it, chin lifted, eyes focused forward. When she takes the degree and turns back, she scans the crowd.
“THAT’S MY GIRL!” I shout without thinking.
Adam laughs beside me, clapping hard. “That’s my sister!”
Adaline grins, just for a second, just for us. And I swear something in my chest cracks open and heals at the same time. I was irrevocably in love with her and this just made it all the more consuming.
The aftermath is chaos. Bustling crowds and everyone taking pictures. She looks overwhelmed and glowing, like she doesn’t quite know where to stand with all this attention. When she finally reaches me, I don’t say anything. I pull her into a deep kiss.
“You did it,” I whisper, my forehead pressed against hers.
She laughs breathlessly. “I actually did it.”
Adam pretends to gag. “I’m standing right here.” We roll our eyes at him and I turn back to Adaline.
“I need to show you something.”
She squints at me. “Why do you sound guilty?”
“I don’t,” I say. “Come on.”
We walk a few streets away, past familiar corners, until we reach it. Adam is giddy the whole time because he already knows what’s about to happen. A black Mustang is sitting parked at the curb, a big green bow plastered on top of it to match her eyes.
Adaline stops dead.
No words. Just staring.
Then she turns slowly to look at me.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Juliette.”
“Yes.”
She laughs, disbelieving. Almost looking like she is on the verge of passing out.
“Absolutely not.”
I step closer. “You said you would ride the bike less.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means I don’t want to spend the rest of my life flinching every time you leave the house,” I say quietly. “And it means you deserve something solid. Something yours.”
She swallows. “That’s too much.”
“You’ve spent years surviving,” I say. “Let me celebrate you.”
“TAKE IT!” Adam practically squeals, shaking her shoulders.
He was absolutely elated when I told him about this a few weeks ago, although super jealous because he thought the personalized doctor’s jacket he got her would be the best gift.
I had to one-up him. I’m a winner and Adaline only deserves the best.
Her hands shake when I press the keys into her palm. She looks at them. Then at me.
“This must have cost so much,” she says softly, ducking her head.
“You’re worth everything and more.”
“Gay,” Adam coughs under his breath and I nudge his ribs hard.
“Ouch!”
Adaline pulls me into her, tight and fierce, like she’s afraid to let go.
“Thank you.”
I smile into her hair. “I love you.”
.