In the days that followed their brief encounter, Chase lingered around the campus grounds more than usual. He wandered the gardens, hovered near the photography studio, and even frequented the bench where he had first seen her—Ana. But the girl with the serene smile and eyes like poetry was nowhere to be found. Each passing day, hope dimmed slightly, replaced by a quiet frustration that gnawed at his heart.
"Idiot," he muttered to himself one afternoon, sitting alone on the campus lawn. "Why didn't you ask for her number?
That night, the soft whir of the old film projector hummed in the background as Chase sat hunched over his desk, the dim red glow of the darkroom lamp casting shadows across his focused face. He was carefully developing the photos he had taken the day he saw her. One by one, her images emerged, faint, delicate, beautiful. Her face captured in natural light, a peaceful smile gracing her lips, unaware she was being immortalized.
He gently placed a photo in a frame and stared at it for a long moment, brushing his thumb across the edge. "You're so pretty," he whispered, a soft smile tugging at his lips. The warmth of admiration filled his chest brief, tender.
Before he could fully absorb the magic of the moment, the door slammed open.
"CHASE!"
The voice crashed into the room like thunder. Bruce Fairchild stood in the doorway, his face twisted in rage, the veins in his neck pulsing.
Chase quickly set the photo aside, startled. "Dad?"
"What the hell is this nonsense I hear?!" Bruce strode into the room, fists clenched. "You dropped your business major? Without telling me? For photography? A hobby? Have you completely lost your mind?!"
Chase stood up, defiant despite the panic rising in his chest. "It's not nonsense. It's what I want to do. I never wanted to be part of your corporate world...never!"
Jacob's eyes flared. "After everything I've done for you? The name, the money, the connections—you throw it all away for some cheap camera and a roll of film?! You're an ungrateful little brat!"
"I never asked for any of it!" Chase shouted back, heart pounding. "I don't want your life. I'm not you, and I never will be!"
That did it.
In a flash of fury, Bruce's hand struck across Chase's face with such force it echoed through the room. Chase stumbled backward, clutching his cheek as blood oozed from the split at the corner of his mouth. His breath caught in his throat.
"You dare raise your voice at me?" Bruce snarled.
Then, like a madman, Bruce swept his arm across the desk, sending photographs and equipment crashing to the ground. He stomped over to the hanging prints and ripped them from the wires, tearing them apart with vicious, merciless hands.
"You want to be a failure? Fine! But not under my roof! I won't tolerate this foolishness!"
"Dad, STOP!" Chase shouted, running toward the photos, trying to save what he could. But Bruce shoved him aside.
The last photo of Ana fluttered to the floor and was stomped underfoot.
When he was done, Bruce looked around at the mess of torn prints, shattered frames, and broken passion. He pointed a finger at Chase, eyes gleaming with disgust.
"Get your act together, or I'll make you regret ever defying me. You have one last chance."
He stormed out, nearly colliding with his wife at the door. She had been drawn by the shouting, her face pale with worry.
"Jacob, please..don't do this," she pleaded softly, reaching out to calm him.
But he pushed past her with a scowl, disappearing down the hallway.
"Chase," she called gently, stepping toward her son. "Are you okay? Please, let me..."
Chase slammed the door shut in her face and turned the lock.
Inside, he stood in the silence of the ruined room, his breath shaky. Slowly, his knees gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. He looked around at the destroyed remnants of his art, his soul and the pain broke through.
Tears streamed down his face as he bowed his head, gripping a torn photo in his hand.
All he had left now were pieces.
Meanwhile, Ana moved about her days with cautious hope. With Trisha keeping her distance and Sasha distracted by the upcoming Fairchild gala, things had fallen quiet almost too quiet. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to breathe.
She focused on her studies, took long walks on campus, and even laughed with Nolan on occasion. Kimberly was improving, and Harry had been unusually tender lately. For a fleeting moment, she believed maybe just maybe peace had finally found her.
But what she didn't know was that silence wasn't always safety.
In the shadows and behind closed doors , Sasha was far from idle. Her pride wounded and her jealousy growing, she whispered her plans to the wrong people with dangerous ears. She had a scheme, a cruel one, and Ana was the target.
And as the night of the party drew near, the calm that Ana clung to so tightly… would soon shatter.
The morning sun cast a warm golden glow across the Fairchild estate. A soft breeze fluttered through the ivy that clung to the stone archways, and somewhere in the distance, birds chirped.
"Come with me," Harry said, his fingers gently entwined with Ana's as they walked across the dew-covered grass. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.
"Where are we going?" Ana asked, smiling curiously, her hair swept into a loose braid.
"You'll see. But I'll give you a hint," he said, tugging her closer. "It has four legs, a tail, and probably eats more than you."
Ana laughed. "A horse?"
"Not just any horse," he said with pride.
They reached the stables, a beautiful old structure of weathered wood and red-tiled roof nestled beside a sprawling paddock. Inside, the scent of hay, leather, and earth mixed in the warm air.
As they stepped in, a sleek black stallion neighed and trotted toward the gate of his stall.
"There he is," Harry said with a grin. "This is Orion. My favorite."
Ana's eyes widened. "He's beautiful."
Orion nudged Harry playfully and then turned his intelligent gaze toward Ana, snorting softly.
"He likes you," Harry chuckled. "Smart horse."
"I've never been this close to one before," she admitted, reaching out hesitantly.
"Don't worry. He's gentle. Come on, I'll show you how to ride."
Ana raised a brow. "Seriously?"
"I'm very serious," he said, already opening the stall and leading Orion out. "Today you're officially promoted from 'city girl' to 'stable royalty.'"
He helped her mount first, lifting her effortlessly onto the saddle, then swung up behind her, his arms naturally wrapping around her waist.
"Is this safe?" Ana asked, biting her lip.
"With me?" he whispered near her ear, "always."
Orion trotted out of the stable into the paddock, moving gracefully beneath them. Ana gasped at the feel of the wind on her face, the rhythm of the horse's gait, the strong arms around her.
"This is… magical," she said.
Harry smiled against her neck. "Told you."
They rode in silence for a while, taking in the beauty of the estate: the rolling hills, the silver pond in the distance, the rustle of trees lining the horizon. Then Harry leaned down and kissed her shoulder gently.
"I like this," he murmured.
"Being with me on a horse?"
"No. Just being with you. Anywhere."
Ana turned her face slightly to look at him. "Even if I were awful at riding?"
"I'd still keep you right here," he said, tightening his arms around her.
She laughed, leaning back into his chest. "I think I'm falling for this… all of it."
Harry stopped Orion near a shaded grove of trees. The sun filtered through the leaves, painting them in gold and green. He gently turned Ana's face toward him and kissed her soft and slow, like the breeze that swayed the trees above.
The world felt quiet. Just the two of them. A horse. A kiss. And a love that felt destined.
"I want more days like this," she whispered against his lips.
"You'll have them," he promised. "I'll make sure of it."
And in that moment, wrapped in his arms and surrounded by everything she loved, Ana believed him.
She just didn't know how many storms waited on the horizon.