I have never stopped to think about time. Sure, I've always thought a lot about the future to make plans and try to know what was coming, but I never pondered over how slowly or quickly time passes. For me, life went on and I adapted to the countless things that occupied my mind every minute.

At first, I enjoyed my childhood with the joy and energy typical of a little girl. When we're young, we never stop to think about our future; we just savor the small moments of happiness around us. Then came my adolescence, which brought the trivial worries typical of that age. Time passed, and my mind was fully occupied with boys, my image, my friends, parties... Then, my mother confessed the truth about my father, and I had to mature quickly, leaving even less time in my life for thinking. I became an adult sooner than I should have, and my life became consumed with university, problems with my mother, and the new society I had plunged into without even realizing it. Time passed, and I went along with it, always moving forward, inexorably.

But on January third, my life came to a halt, and I started thinking about time. The days passed, but I no longer moved forward with them. I was stuck on that cold day, standing in the middle of my living room as I watched who I thought was the love of my life walk out the door without looking back.

Yes, I kept sleeping, eating, going to class... But it wasn't me anymore. I did what I had to do like an automaton because there was nothing I wanted to do. My desires, thoughts, and needs took a back seat, to a place that wasn't even present in my mind. My body was where it needed to be while my mind stayed on my terrace, endlessly watching the now empty and dark neighboring house. And there I am every time I come home, sitting on my balcony, waiting to see a silhouette that, deep down, I know will never return.

January, February, March, April, May... Five months have passed, but I'm still sitting on my terrace sofa, thinking about time. Why isn't it moving? Why do I feel like I'm still in a cold January instead of moving on with my life? Why do I continue waiting for someone who will never return?

He had completely disappeared from my life, so that's how I decided to behave going forward. The people around me noticed and acted accordingly, without asking questions. I don't know what they think or how they reacted to what happened, but I don't care either. They just know that we broke up, and that's all they need to know. The reasons, the words, and the feelings that accompanied the breakup are between him and me. The last thing I need is to think about him more than I already do on my own.

These past five months, I've focused on the lives of those around me to avoid thinking about how empty I am now. Gigi and Brooke are still together and happier than ever, and Jordan and Cher are close behind. Nate, however, distanced himself from the group, probably due to what I know he talked about with him regarding me, the betrayal. I honestly appreciate it because I never want to speak to him again now that I know what happened.

On the other hand, Faye and Travis are more obnoxious than ever, which I thought was impossible. When they found out he had left me and the city, they didn't hold back on mocking and laughing at me. It amuses me to think they're so convinced they can hurt me after someone took my heart and smashed it against the ground like a cheap piece of clay. To me, their taunts were like flies buzzing around my head: slightly annoying until you get used to them and barely notice their presence anymore.

Despite paying so much attention to my friends, deep down, I feel nothing anymore. I try to show them that I'm moving on and that I hardly think about him anymore, but none of that is true. Pretending has become something I do as easily and naturally as breathing, so I don't even have to think about it when I pretend to feel something about what they tell me. It's wrong, I know, but it's unavoidable.

How can I feel anything with a broken heart?

I also threw myself into my studies, more than usual if that's possible. That's why I've achieved the best grades in all my subjects, even in Economics, despite the interruption of my tutoring sessions. With time, effort, and occasionally asking for help, I managed to make up for everything I learned in them.

But a few days ago, exams ended, and the school year concluded soon afterwards, so now it's time for summer parties, trips with friends, and celebrations in general. To be completely honest, I don't feel like attending any of these social events. Maybe it's been five months since he left me, but in Hayden, these kinds of gossip don't die down easily. People keep looking at me, laughing, and concocting all sorts of theories about the reason for the breakup given the little information they have.

The official version is that he got tired of me. He was fed up with how egocentric, obsessive, impulsive, jealous, and arrogant I was and left as soon as he could. I know that the only person who knows the real reason he left me is me, but I can't help but give some credibility to some of the versions I've heard, especially this last one. It's less painful to think that this was the reality instead of what he told me: that he only wanted sex and to laugh at me, the cold and distant girl who didn't believe in love.

Time passes, and with it, my hopes that something will change for the better. This is the reality now, and I have to accept it. The sooner I move on with my life, the better, and that's what I'm trying to do. In fact, today I have the perfect excuse to show the world, and especially myself, that I don't need anyone to be who I am, that I'm not going to sit around crying over what happened.

So here I am, despite my reservations, finishing up applying a beautiful red lipstick that stands out against the long black dress I've decided to wear. With a resigned sigh, I look at my reflection in the mirror and ask myself for the millionth time if what I'm about to do is a good idea. It doesn't take half a second for me to give myself two imaginary slaps and force myself out of the bathroom to put on my heels. I'm going because I'm not afraid of any possible surprises. I fully accept all the consequences.

A few days ago, Jordan invited all of us to his graduation. The moment he mentioned it, I felt a pang in my chest, and a violent wave of memories kept me from thinking about anything else. There we were, on a Balinese bed with the Spanish sunset before our eyes, talking about what his suit would be like. Even though it had been five months, it felt like it had happened just yesterday.

My first thought was the most obvious: if I attended the senior graduation, I would inevitably see him too. But I didn't even have to ask because Jordan casually clarified that he had moved back to Los Angeles and wasn't even going to the graduation. To be honest, at that moment, I felt a mix of relief and disappointment. I was relieved not to have to see him, to have that unnecessary weight lifted off my shoulders, and disappointed not to have him in front of me one last time.

So this was the end, right? That was it. Our paths had definitively parted, and there was nothing I could do but continue with my life as it was before I met him.

This was the end of the story, so now I had to close my book and start a new one.

It only takes me a few minutes to get to Hayden, where all my friends are waiting, all of them looking stunning. A smile spreads across my face, and I open my arms to welcome Cher and Gigi, who pounce on me like two animals on their prey.

"Lex! You look gorgeous. Are you trying to distract the attention from the graduates to yourself?" Cher compliments me with a wink.

"You look amazing, but why did you choose black? Are you going to a graduation or a funeral?" Gigi asks.

"Technically, it is a funeral. We're losing the older kids," I reply to Gigi, maintaining my smile.

"We might not be coming back to Hayden classes, but you're not getting rid of us that easily," Jordan warns with a mischievous smile. "We'll keep annoying you until the end of time. Consider yourselves warned!"

"To my misfortune, that threat is literal," Brooke sighs dramatically.

Her brother playfully taps her shoulder before turning when he hears his name behind us.

"Duty calls, ladies. Don't take too long to come in, or you won't be able to get front-row seats to see just how extraordinarily handsome I am."

"We'll sit in the front row to deal with the horror of how awful you look," his sister replies with a laugh as Jordan walks away, flipping her off.

"Come on, ladies! If we don't get front-row seats, I'll never forgive you," Cher insists.

"Oh, the love!" Gigi mockingly sighs. "We better go in, or Cher will slit our throats."

Laughing, the four of us start walking toward the large, lush garden where the ceremony will take place. The fresh, beautiful green lawn is now occupied by a stage in front of a large number of chairs. Everything is decorated with flowers, ribbons, and more, creating a truly beautiful space.

Luckily, we find four seats in the front row, just behind the seats reserved for the graduates, separated by flower bushes to give them privacy. Gradually, the guests start arriving, as all the senior students are already seated with their caps on. At Hayden, the graduates don't wear gowns but a sash with the school's crest, so everyone is dressed in their best to show them off to the audience.

"Good afternoon, everyone!" The rector welcomes us from the podium on stage, a wide smile dominating his face. "I'd like to extend a warm welcome to the graduation of the senior class of Hayden University. After years of hard work, perseverance, failures, and victories, you've finally reached the end of this journey."

The director's words soon become background noise that I decide to ignore. Before I can stop myself, my eyes start scanning the heads almost hidden by caps of the senior students, looking for those distinctive brown curls. I know he's not here; I know I'm only hurting myself, but my mind has gone on autopilot, and no one is at the controls right now. Despite all my efforts, I can't find that unforgettable hair among all the heads in front of me.

"Well, without further ado, I will proceed to present the diplomas to our newly graduated students!"

My heart seems to skip a beat as I hear the dean's announcement, followed by the first names of the students. They are going in alphabetical order by last name, so he should be somewhere in the middle of the list. The alphabet has never felt so long as I watch in detail how the students with last names starting with the earlier letters parade before me with their diplomas.

"Austin Griffin!"

The dean's voice sounds distant, and I see the last student with a surname starting with 'G' go up to receive their diploma. Now is the moment of truth, the one I've been waiting for since my eyes began scanning all the heads, searching for those unmistakable brown curls. I will finally know if he has left my life for good or if I'll have the chance to see him one more time.

"Gina Harris!"

A weight drops into my stomach as if someone had hung an enormous concrete block around my neck. For a brief second, my eyes blur, and I can't clearly make out the figures moving in front of me. My ears feel blocked, and I become isolated with my thoughts, trying to process the blow reality has just dealt me.

That's it. It's over once again. He hasn't come and will never come back. His brief time in New York has come to an end, and everything he had while he was still here is now behind him. I don't know if I'm relieved or saddened by the prospect of never seeing him again. Right now, my insides are a jumble of emotions that overwhelm and confuse me, preventing me from reacting. Every time I remember the last words he said to me, I feel like it's better for him to be far away from me, out of my life. But then, love clouds my mind, and I wish to see him at least one more time.

But what does it matter anymore? Nothing ties him to New York, so it doesn't matter if I want him to come back or not, because he won't.

It's time to close the book.

"And now, it is my honor to present to you the valedictorian of this class. He has achieved the highest academic record with an impressive perfect grade point average, reflecting his impeccable track record. Please welcome with a round of applause... Ace Hale!"

I almost break my neck as I turn my head to focus my gaze on where the name I've been avoiding at all costs has just been called. The dean smiles as he looks to the right side of the stage, waiting for the person he's just named.

But he's not here, is he? He moved to Los Angeles, so they must be calling him honorifically or...

A figure appears in the center aisle between the rows of chairs, walking toward the stage as if on a runway. Even though he's facing away from me, I would recognize that walk anywhere, and those gelled curls peeking out from under his cap. But it's not that which makes my heart stop completely, leaving me breathless for a few seconds that feel like hours.

It's the suit.

Black, with beautiful details that stand out when the light hits his figure. There's not a single thread of another color, just completely black tones in a design that's impossible not to recognize: Yves Saint Laurent.

There he is, walking to receive his diploma in the suit I helped design, bringing back a memory that hurts like a dagger in my chest. I'm still trying to catch my breath when I finally see his profile as he climbs the steps to the stage; another stab that makes me pale. It feels like a dream as I watch him shake the rector's hand and take his diploma for the official photo.

And then he looks at me, and the world stops for what feels like an eternity.

We're separated by a few meters, but I can clearly see those beautiful light blue eyes that belong only to him. But no, something has changed. Before, those sapphires always had a permanent spark of joy, like a child's. Now, however, there's nothing in them, just emptiness. For a moment, it feels like I'm back to that January third when he left my side.

Until I see it.

A spark, as if he'd been jolted with electricity. He recognizes me; I can see it in his eyes. His previously indifferent posture now shows a hint of nervousness as he poses for the photo. I can't tear my eyes away from his, conveying with a look the torrent of feelings I've accumulated these past few months. In his eyes, I start to see something, maybe...

The camera clicks one last time, and our eye contact breaks, allowing me to breathe again. I watch him quickly walk back to his seat, looking at the ground as if the last thing he wants is to be there. I try to hold onto his figure, following him with my eyes desperately. I need him to stop, to turn around, to look at me... I need to keep the book open because I don't feel like it has reached its end.

But then, he sits down, disappearing from my view once again.

•

The smoke from the cigarette fills my lungs as I take a drag, using the moment to sip my whiskey once I exhale. I'm back on my balcony, alone, wrapped in the lights of the skyscrapers that illuminate the night. Despite the noise of the cars in the city that never sleeps, all I feel in my heart is silence.

The gaze of those blue eyes doesn't leave my mind, so I try to drown my thoughts with alcohol since sleep doesn't seem to want to visit me for now. I had long stopped looking at the terrace next door for a light, but today I did it again.

Nothing has changed. The house is still dark and he's showing no signs of life.

So I've given up, once again. After graduation ended, I never saw him again, as if he hadn't even attended. In my friends' eyes, I saw the concern they felt for me even though they didn't want to say anything out loud, so I went back to pretending as I was so good at. Publicly, the brief return of Ace Hale meant nothing to me, and it seems everyone bought my act and went along with it.

The sound of a notification on my phone pulls me out of my thoughts, making me put the cigarette and the glass aside to check it. Thank God, it's only my first glass of whiskey, so my mind is still clear and I can easily read the email I have just received:

'Miss Arden, it is a pleasure for Cravath & Sullivan to inform you that you have been accepted to intern at our company.'

My heart skips a beat when I read the first sentence, barely skimming the rest of the email. A spark of joy lights up inside me for the first time in months and I find myself smiling at the screen as I imagine all the possibilities this wonderful opportunity offers me.

Not only will I grow professionally, but I will also use this internship to give my life a new direction. Enough of lamenting, enough of memories, and enough of wallowing in the sorrows of the past.

I have officially closed the book and started a new one.

Hello, babes!

Well, this is the last chapter of this journey (before the epilogue, but this is the official ending) and it's been one hell of a ride. Did you like it?

YES, there will be a sequel because this is a trilogy and I have it written already. I'll probably publish it in a few months, but I'll tell you more about it later...

I'll be reading you! ❤️