He'll Search for That Grave Forever

Caroline's POV

Everyone knew Ethan Blackwood and I were Professor Richard Hartwell's two proudest students. From childhood easels to Columbia studios, inseparable for over a decade.

Everyone assumed we'd get married, stand together on the Pritzker stage someday. Until he fell in love with Sophia Crane, daughter of our mentor's academic rival.

I let him go. Love isn't something I can design.

But I never thought he'd destroy our mentor's entire life for her.

Five years later, he's back in New York riding high on his success, excited to "make amends" with Professor Hartwell.

I laugh.

Go ahead, Ethan Blackwood. You'll spend the rest of your life searching.

News of Ethan's return drops like a stone into the stagnant waters of New York's architecture scene.

Youngest Pritzker nominee, backed by top European capital and three completed landmark projects. The glory is blinding.

The welcome reception is at the Four Seasons in Manhattan. The invitation arrived at my office two days ago.

"Ms. Mitchell, I heard you and Mr. Blackwood worked together?" The intern sidles over. "You two must've been close back then, right? You're probably the first person he wants to see now that he's back."

"Not really." I don't look up.

"Oh? But the boss said you were both Professor Hartwell's students, and..."

"Print out the facade proposals for the West Side project."

She shuffles off, deflated.

I stare at my drawings, but my mind drifts to another design, one that was torn apart, trampled, and ultimately killed a man.

I take the invitation and feed it into the shredder.

I should've done this five years ago.

Too bad back then, I still believed some people deserved forgiveness.

Seven PM, I'm meeting a client at the same hotel.

The elevator doors open to a wave of noise from the lobby.

Champagne towers, clinking glasses, half of New York's architecture scene packed in.

I spot him immediately.

Ethan stands at the center of the crowd, laughing with several silver-haired industry veterans. Beside him, a woman in a champagne-colored gown with a smile polished like a portrait.

Sophia Crane.

Five years later, that victor's expression hasn't changed one bit.

I turn to slip past them. Too late.

"Caroline."

Ethan's voice cuts through. He strides toward me, undisguised delight on his face.

"Why didn't you come? I had my secretary send invitations to your firm."

His tone is casual, natural, like we were pulling all-nighters together just yesterday, like the past five years were nothing but a short business trip.

I step back.

"Back off, Blackwood."

The chatter around us dies down instantly. Everyone's eyes land on us.

Ethan's smile freezes, confusion and hurt flickering across his face.

"Caroline, you're still mad?" He sighs, slipping into that familiar magnanimous attitude. "Look, I know I screwed up back then, but I came back to fix things..."

"Don't." I cut him off. "I have to go."

Sophia loops her arm through his at just the right moment, voice saccharine. "You haven't changed a bit, Caroline. Ethan picked up some Bauhaus manuscripts at auction—for Professor Hartwell. We should all go see him tomorrow. I'm sure he misses Ethan."

My nails dig into my palms.

How dare they speak that name.

"I'll pass." I look at Ethan. "You lose some people, that's it."

Ethan frowns. "Caroline, I know you're still pissed, but the professor always had a soft spot for me. He'd want to see me. What happened back then, I was an idiot. But now I can actually make it right..."

I smile. "Your gifts won't reach him, Ethan."

He pauses, clearly confused.

Sophia tugs his sleeve, voice dropping. "Maybe he's not feeling well? Can't have visitors right now. We should probably call ahead first."

"Don't worry about it." Ethan waves it off, turning back to me. "Fine. You're still upset. I'll drive upstate tomorrow, find him and explain everything. Once he forgives me, you won't have any excuse to keep this up."

He pats my shoulder like I'm a kid throwing a tantrum.

Then turns back to the crowd for his moment of glory.

I stand there watching his back, letting out a bitter laugh.

Find him? Ethan Blackwood, you'll never find him again.