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“You know you can talk to me, right?” she said, her voice gentler now as she dropped the teasing.

“Like, seriously. I’m not gonna judge you for liking the guy.

I’d actually be shocked if you didn’t, from everything you’ve told me.

The man is stupidly hot, mega rich, and takes care of you like you’re a skittish little kitten he rescued off the street. ”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not skittish. Or little.”

I was smaller than Grant, sure, at 5’10”.

And with my lean, athletic build—thank you, a lifetime of playing soccer—I wasn’t made of muscle the way he still was in his forties, thanks to his start in the hands-on, construction side of the real estate business years ago. But that didn’t make me little .

Especially not compared to Maddie’s petite frame.

She raised her eyebrows.

“I’m not ,” I insisted, which came out whinier than I meant it to… and kind of felt like a lie when it came to the skittish part.

“Okay, sure, no, of course,” she said, humoring me so obviously that I had to glare at her again.

She smirked. “You’re the most emotionally stable person I know, Colby. That’s why you ghosted me for two days last week and forgot how calendars work.”

“That was one time,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand through my hair and not wanting to think about how anxious the calendar has started to make me the closer and closer we got to the day Daddy—I mean, Grant , had to officially dump me.

“Colbs…” Maddie’s face shifted again—still on-screen, but suddenly closer, quieter.

“Hey. I’m not trying to mess with you. I just…

you don’t have to pretend with me. Not about him.

Not about anything. You know that. You’re my best friend, and I thought I was yours, too. You and me against the world, right?”

“Right,” I whispered, staring down at my keyboard.

The keys blurred a little.

Wow, I was a mess.

“Okay,” she said softy. “Good.” Then, too quickly and far too perkily, “So—what’s the plan for after graduation? Still thinking freelance? Or were you gonna apply for that internship your professor hooked you up with in—where was it—Providence?”

I made a sound that was supposed to be agreement, but it got stuck somewhere in my throat. Because honestly? I had no idea.

I knew my sister was trying to change the subject to give me some emotional breathing room, and I loved her for it. Unfortunately, picking my future plans as the topic she pivoted to felt like a gut punch.

Everything past May was a total blank void in my brain. Sure, I’d finally have my graphic arts degree, and I’d told people I had options—freelance gigs, job leads, a half-formed design portfolio—but in reality, I’d barely touched any of it. I just…

I couldn’t seem to make myself plan for a life that didn’t have Grant in it.

And I didn’t mean just financially.

God, that was the last thing I was worried about. He’d been more than generous, and presumably I’d get an honest-to-goodness job and be able to actually support myself… financially.

But what about all the things he’d done these past few months that had nothing to do with money?

The way he’d ordered chamomile tea for me without asking that one night I’d shown up to dinner strung out from back-to-back critiques.

The way he texted you better be sleeping, baby at 2 a.m. if I posted anything online during all-nighters, like he had an alert set up for me or something.

The way he touched me like I was breakable and looked at me like I wasn’t.

The way I knew he was always there , even though our agreement was only supposed to be for two nights per week.

Oh god. Oh fuck. I couldn’t… once it ended, I…

My chest got tight. Not just metaphorically.

“Colbs?” Maddie asked, voice suddenly concerned again when I started frantically sucking in air. “You okay?”

I nodded, which was one hundred percent a lie.

My lungs felt like they were trying to collapse in on each other. My hands had gone ice cold even though I could feel a prickling, stinging heat climbing my neck.

I clawed at it, but it did no good at all. It suddenly felt like I was underwater, and the screen in front of me with my sister’s worried face felt miles away.

“Hey,” she said quickly. “Hey, you’re okay. Look at me.”

I nodded, gasping a little.

“You’re having a panic attack,” she said calmly, like she was narrating the weather. “It’s okay. Let’s do this together, okay? Name five things you can see.”

“Laptop,” I whispered. “Desk. Hoodie. My coffee mug. You.”

“Perfect. Four things you can feel?”

Feel? All I could feel was panic—ha!—over something I had no control over at all and shouldn’t even be attached to. Not after just a few months. Not when I’d specifically signed a contract promising I wouldn’t .

“I don’t wanna do the list,” I told Maddie, my voice a reedy whine. “I just—I want?—”

She waited, her eyes warm and worried… and used to her big brother being a hot mess, apparently.

I couldn’t finish the sentence, though. Because what I wanted was Grant .

I wanted Daddy. Not a coping strategy. Not a five-senses trick or a box-breathing app or whatever else Mads had saved on her phone from a therapist’s TikTok.

I just wanted him to tell me I was okay. That I was doing fine. That I was his good boy.

That he wouldn’t leave me, even though I knew he would. And not just because of the end of the contract, either. After my graduation, he’d be starting a huge development project in Seattle, all the way on the other side of the country.

God, I was so fucked.

“I think I just need to lie down for a bit,” I finally managed to get out, already reaching for the little red call button. “Sorry, Mads.”

She frowned, but nodded. “Okay. You sure you don’t want me to stay on with you, though?”

“I’m good,” I lied again. “I’ve got a, uh, a thing soon.”

That earned me a ghost of a teasing smile. “Right. Your Tuesday night standing date with Daddy Warbucks.”

I smiled back, barely. “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m not! I’m being supportive. I just think it’s hot that your coping mechanism is six-foot-two and pays your rent.”

Yeah. But I’d take him even if he didn’t. If he actually wanted me for keeps.

My throat closed up. “Bye, sis.”

“Text me later, okay?”

I nodded, not sure if she saw before I hit end. She’d never expect me to fake it with her—but I couldn’t even manage a coping face right now.

And once the call ended, the silence hit me like a wave. Just the hum of the fridge and the dull thud of my heartbeat.

How had I actually thought this would be better?

The worst of the panic had passed, at least, but I felt hollow now, shaky around the edges. And I didn’t want tea or a weighted blanket or a walk around the block.

I wanted him .

I glanced at the clock. Our scheduled date wasn’t until seven—just private dinner at his penthouse apartment tonight, which was honestly one of my favorite types of dates.

But it was barely four.

I should use the time to study, since finals were in just a few weeks. Or… I could start getting ready for Daddy?

The thought of it gave me something to hold onto. Something concrete. Something his .

Studying could wait.

I pulled myself off the chair and went to the closet.

My fingers found the pale blue shirt he liked—the one he’d complimented more than once. I laid it on the bed like it meant something.

Then came the ritual. Shower. Shave. Lotion. The shirt. Dark jeans. Even polished my shoes. It was absurd. But somehow, it helped.

And that... that started to quiet something inside me in a way nothing else could.

It wouldn’t last forever. The contract I’d signed said so, and I was just going to have to deal with that. But for tonight, even if I never let myself say it out loud, I was still Daddy’s boy. His good boy.

At least for a few more weeks.