Chapter 66
TJ
We’ve been sitting at the table where Cornelia left her bag, watching it all unfold.
Honestly, it hasn’t been as fun as I thought it would be—my father has only ordered one drink, and he just seemed mildly annoyed when they messed it up.
In the end, he drank the wrong one, anyway.
But if I’m with Cornelia, I’d be happy watching paint dry.
We watch Leila pass near my dad, but nothing happens.
Cornelia looks at me. We’ve been sitting in silence for most of the time, but it isn’t an awkward silence.
She seems like she’s about to say something, then looks away.
She’s been doing this for a while. After a moment, she looks at me again and says, “About your dad—he’s wrong.
Not doing anything isn’t bad. It’s better than doing something you dislike. ”
It stuns me. She has always been supportive, never making me feel bad about it.
At least not until we started fighting and poking at each other, using what each of us does as ammunition.
But she’s never said that not doing anything is better than doing something you dislike, mostly because she knows what she’s doing—studying business and preparing to take over as CEO of a company she doesn’t care much about—is exactly that.
“He was right.” I want to choke on my own words, but it’s the truth.
“His delivery was bad, but I wasn’t doing anything.
And maybe it was better than doing something I didn’t like, but it’s not like I was actually looking for something I was passionate about.
I was wandering through life, expecting it to fall from the sky. ”
In a way, it did fall from the sky—or maybe, deep down, I always knew. I just hadn’t acknowledged it yet. Now that I have, it feels like the interest and passion were always there, waiting for me to see them.
Cornelia frowns. “Was? Past tense?”
She caught that. I was hoping she would. When I made the decision, she was the first person I wanted to tell.
I’ve been working on myself. I know I can’t make her get back with me—I don’t know if she’d even ever consider it—but what I can do is make myself better, so if she one day chooses to, I’m someone better for her.
Since Monaco, I haven’t gotten drunk or touched any drugs. And for a while now, I’ve been auditing some architecture classes—prompted by Mr Guliger, the teacher I interrupted. No one knows except for West.
“Yes, as of September, I’ll be studying architecture at Imperial College,” I tell her. It’s a little over two months away, but I’m confident in my decision. I’m not going to back down.
Cornelia’s eyes light up, and she smiles. “Really?”
I nod.
“That’s… amazing, TJ. We need champagne to celebrate,” she beams, already turning around and scanning the room for a waiter. She catches the attention of one, who quickly comes to our table, and she orders it.
“Does anyone else know?” Cornelia asks. She’s probably thinking that if my father knew, he wouldn’t have lectured me, at least not about that.
If he did know, his lecture would have been about how I should study business instead of architecture so I can take over the family company.
It’s ironic, since our business is real estate development—right in the same field.
I think that’s one of the reasons it took me so long to realise I liked architecture and that it’s what I want to do with my life.
I wanted to stay as far away from the family business as possible, so I condemned everything related to it.
But either way, my father doesn’t want me to be the one designing and building the projects. He wants me to be the CEO.
“Just West and now you,” I reply.
Her smile grows, taking over her entire face. I haven’t seen her smile this big in a while. “And Weberly? Does she know?”
“No.”
Even though this all happened while I was with her, I never told her anything. Not that I was auditing classes, not that I applied, or that I got in. When I went to the lectures, I just told her I had something to do, and she never asked any further questions.
She frowns. “Shouldn’t that be something your girlfriend knows?”
“It should,” I say slowly, “but she isn’t my girlfriend anymore.”
Cornelia unconsciously grins but quickly realises it and picks up her wine glass, taking a sip to hide her grin behind it.
“Are you planning on eventually telling somebody else, or is this a secret just West and I are in on?” She sets her glass back on the table.
“I’m planning to tell the rest of The Heptad Society when we get closer to the date,” I answer.
It’s not that I’m trying to hide it, but I don’t want to make a big deal out of choosing what I’m going to do with my life when all of them did it so easily.
“And your dad?”
“Maybe when I get the degree,” I joke—kind of.
She chuckles, but then her gaze turns a little serious.
“You should tell him. Maybe it isn’t what he wanted for you, but it’s still a huge accomplishment.
” I love how she is talking like I’m building the Sagrada Familia when it’s just me going to college.
I can only imagine how she’ll be when I graduate.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You should,” she says pointedly, picking up her wine glass. She takes a few sips, and in the middle of one, she laughs a bit but drowns it with another sip of wine.
I look at her, curious.
Cornelia notices my expression. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s clearly something.”
She sighs. “I was just thinking—” she pauses, maybe considering whether to steer the conversation elsewhere, but she quickly gives up and says, “how I find it funny that you’re going in while I’m going out.”
“What?” I ask, shocked.
“I’m not going back to college next term. I’m taking a break. I don’t know exactly what I want to do, but I know what I’m doing right now isn’t it.” As she says it, it’s like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.
Now it all makes sense—her earlier comment about my father, her hesitation before telling me. She didn’t want to take the attention off me. But it doesn’t bother me. It’s the opposite. I’m so happy she finally made this decision.
“I’m really happy for you. It’s a wise decision,” I tell her wholeheartedly. I’ll be a little disappointed not seeing her around campus. I was hoping I would, but it’s fine. This is better.
“Really?” she says, almost like she thinks my opinion has changed now that I’m going to college, or like she’s expecting some pushback on her decision. I wonder if anyone has tried to talk her out of it.
“Yes,” I nod. “Does anyone else know?”
“Just Annabelle and now you.”
I smile. While she finds it funny, I love the symmetry of it. It feels like, even though we’re not together, we’re still moving at the same pace.
“No Benedict?” I wonder.
She shakes her head. “No, we broke up.”
“I’m sorry.” I mean it. If what happened at the restaurant was the reason, or if she’s upset about it, then I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry that they broke up.
Cornelia gives me a small smile. “It’s fine, but I’d prefer not to talk about it.”
I nod. “Does Anthony know about your break from college?”
I don’t need to ask her about The Heptad Society. I know her. Just like me, she’ll tell them closer to the date to avoid making a big deal or when the topic naturally comes up. But with Anthony, that’s where the mystery lies.
Cornelia tenses at the mention of her brother. “Not yet, but I’m planning to tell him soon. It’s just…,” she sighs heavily, “difficult. I’m waiting for the right moment to tell him.”
He’s the only reason she’s studying what she’s studying—to take over Monroe-Nodrick.
I don’t claim to fully understand their relationship, but I’ve always believed Anthony never realised Cornelia didn’t actually want that path.
If he sensed hesitation from her, he probably thought it was self-doubt about being able to handle the pressure of the job.
On that, both Anthony and I would agree—she absolutely could.
She could do anything she set her mind to.
But he never considered that her doubts weren’t about her ability but about whether she wanted to do it at all.
If he had known this had been causing her so much anxiety, he wouldn’t have let her get anywhere near it—not even with a six-foot pole. Unlike my father, who would be perfectly fine with me being miserable as long as I do what he wants.
“He’ll be happy if you are,” I state.
She smiles. “I hope so. Either way, I’ll probably eventually go back to finish.
I’ve invested too much time in it to go to waste, and a business degree can be useful…
in many fields.” I’m not sure if she actually means it or if it’s an argument she plans to use on Anthony, but whatever she does next, I just hope it’s what she truly wants.
I’m about to ask her something else when the waiter arrives with a bottle of champagne—Cornelia requested one—and two flutes.
He brought the bottle already opened. He fills both glasses, sets one in front of Cornelia and the other in front of me.
Then, he leaves the bottle on the table and walks away.
Cornelia picks up her flute and holds it up.
“For what the future holds,” she says with a smile.
I lift mine as well. “For what the future holds,” I repeat.
The only thing I want my future to hold is her.
Our glasses meet with a soft chime, and we drink.
Suddenly, a loud thump echoes through the room, cutting through the soft hum of conversation. Heads turn instinctively, ours included, as everyone searches for the source of the sound.