WHAT'S LOVE?

car and walked toward the grand entrance, her heels clicking lightly against the polished marble pathway. The hou

he returned to every night-one that

for her, bowing slightly.

d of emotion. She didn't stop to exchange pleasantrie

deemed "refined." A massive study desk sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, cluttered with books, binders, and a sleek

k. Flipping open her laptop, she immediately began reviewing her class notes. Her parents

d back in her chair, rubbing her temples. The events of the evening crept into her mind-Alex

t frown. She didn't have tim

amily portrait on her desk-a polished image of her standing stiffly between her parents. Her

in her mind. You're the face of this fami

one, Mia. You're the heir to the Clarke legacy. If you want to

her days had been meticulously scheduled-piano lessons, etiquette training, ad

an image of control. But it had come at a cost. Every move she made

It was almost midnight, and yet her

other often said whenever Mia

ning to her notes. She was used to this-used to the pressure, th

eel like to live without all the rules. Without the constan

grin flashed in her mind, and she

hought bitterly. Doesn't he know I don

otions under a mountain of work. She had no

ded perfection, and Mia was

ily over one shoulder. The peeling paint on the walls and the faint scent of fried food waft

ion, the way she had walked away without looking back. It stung more than he

g room light greeted him. The space was modest but well-kept, with mis

om the kitchen. She was chopping vegetables with quick, p

umbled, kicking off

harp eyes scanning him. "What happened? Yo

ing his backpack onto the c

further. She returned to her chopping, the

ng quietly. She looked up and smiled faintly at Alex. "You should

Alex insisted, forci

sponsibility that came from being the family's backbone. She worked tirelessly at a corporate job that paid well enough t

f you don't want to talk about it, that's

ncern even if he didn't feel lik

hands, steady and nimble as they worked the needles. She had been knitting scarves and hats to sell a

r fa

s ago, leaving his mother, Vanessa, and him to fend for themselves. He had lef

the family. She worked long hours, rarely had time for herself, and neve

heir mother would say. "You shoul

he same way: "I'm not leaving you

ve the life he did-a good education, the chance to dream beyond their small apartment. He didn't

essa called, interr

en, where she had set three plates of r

know, you should be grateful for that fancy school of yours.

aid quietly, sta

rm. "She's right, Alex. Vanessa works so hard

e wanted to make them proud, to live up to the expectations they had for hi

came from a completely different world-a world of privilege and p

ences, he couldn't shake

late. Vanessa noticed but didn't comment

luttered with textbooks and crumpled papers. He sat down, pulling ou

ow, the city lights tw

" he muttered to himself, his th

knew he wasn't ready