She shakes the thought off and shrugs.
"Just… no reason."
Harry lets out a small laugh, clearly unconvinced but not pressing further. He leans back in his chair, tilting his screen toward him as he types.
Then, he asks with a grin, "So… how was the one-on-one session with Julian yesterday?"
Grace stiffens slightly. Her fingers hover over the keyboard. She debates whether or not to mention the brunch.
No. It's better if I don't.
"It was… just okay, I guess," she replies casually.
Harry turns toward her a little, his voice dipping into a more curious tone. "What did you talk about with him?"
"Just the usual stuff. How's the workload, how's the master's program, things like that."
Harry nods, his smirk deepening.
"It's good that you have literally zero interest in him."
Grace blinks. The comment catches her off guard.
"What?" she asks, puzzled.
Harry grins, as if he knows something she doesn't.
"So many female students like him. He's just that type, you know? But you—you've got zero interest in him. That's cool. To me, at least."
For a moment, Grace doesn't respond.
Her chest tightens, just a little. A quiet sting of guilt seeps in as her thoughts scramble to hide behind her composure.
But I do like him…
The truth weighs heavy in her heart like a secret she isn't allowed to hold. And now, more than ever, she feels the urge to bury it deeper. Far from Harry. Far from anyone.
She forces a faint smile and nods, pretending not to notice the flicker of disappointment—or something else—in Harry's eyes.
Inside, though, her thoughts whisper, Well, I like him.
But no one—not even Harry—can know that now.
"I actually saw his interviews from when he was the CEO of that fashion brand, like, ten years ago," Harry says with a smirk. He pulls out his phone and quickly finds a video. "Look—he looks exactly the same."
Grace leans in, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she watches the clip. Julian appears on the screen wearing a crisp white shirt that perfectly highlights his broad shoulders. His hair is tousled, effortlessly stylish, and those thin metal glasses replace the ones he wears now. Even a decade ago, he's undeniably gorgeous.
"I can't believe he was already the CEO back then," Grace murmurs, eyes still glued to the screen.
"That's what he's famous for," Harry replies, eyes flicking between the video and Grace. "A young fashion entrepreneur who just blew up with his brilliant designs."
He shakes his head in disbelief.
"But seriously, can a person really not age at all in ten years?"
Grace studies Julian's face carefully. Harry has a point—there's something uncanny about it.
Then a thought strikes her.
"You know what? Actually, Professor Julian looks older than twenty-five in this video. He's already kind of got that thirty-five-year-old vibe," she says slowly.
Harry laughs softly.
"Oh, yeah, true. So maybe the older-looking guy gets to seem like he didn't age over time, huh?"
Their quiet amusement dissolves as Professor Candice clears her throat at the front of the room.
"Let's begin today's lecture," she announces, "starting with the presentation from—"
The conversation fades, replaced by the hum of settling students and the faint rustle of papers as the class officially starts.
That night, as always, Julian runs alongside the flowing lake, the cool breeze brushing past him under the cloak of darkness. His breaths come heavier now, the rhythmic pounding of his feet syncing with the steady rush of water nearby. Suddenly, his Apple Watch buzzes sharply against his wrist. A call—labeled simply as
Julian slows to a stop, chest heaving, and answers. "Oh, hey."
"Hi, Julian. Hope I didn't catch you resting too late," a woman's voice greets him warmly from the other end.
She's the agency's current administrator.
"No, not at all. How have you been?" Julian replies, the familiarity in her voice easing some of the day's weight.
Over the years, the cases involving human trafficking that once defined his every waking moment have become fewer and farther between. These days, his professor role takes precedence. It's almost ironic to think how this first, longest chapter of his life — saving lives — has now become just a quiet background hum. But just because he spends less time doesn't mean his heart's any less invested.
"It's not about a mission," the woman says softly. "I wanted to let you know that the agency is celebrating its 110th anniversary. We're planning a reunion for all members—past and present. You have to come, June, since you're the founder."
Julian lets out a quiet chuckle, the title "founder" stirring bittersweet feelings deep inside him. He's the last remaining link to that legacy now.
"We're reaching out to everyone," she continues. "Can you do me a favor and contact Eugene? He seems to have changed his number."
"Right, Eugene. Yeah, I'll get in touch with him. I'm sure he'll want to come," Julian replies gently.
"Great. Will Saturday night at the Kingston Hotel work for you?"
Julian smiles softly, though she can't see it.
"If it doesn't, I'll make it work."
"Thank you, June. Have a good night."
"You too, Kate. Good night," Julian says as he ends the call.
He gazes down at the water glowing softly beside him, the moonlight spilling across its surface like liquid silver. A quiet warmth spreads through him at the thought of former and current members coming together again. It feels special—profound, even. These are the people with whom he spent the best years of his life. Most of the former members have long since passed on, but the bond they forged, the society they built, remains alive in his heart.
He cherishes it deeply—the years he poured into it, the risks he took, the sacrifices he made. And still would make, without hesitation. Because it's worth it. Because saving lives is worth any price. And because it's where he found his… love. The one and only true love he's ever known.
He lifts his eyes to the vast night sky, stars shimmering endlessly above.
"I miss you."
For a brief moment, the thought of Grace flickers through his mind, but he shakes his head gently, brushing it away.
He pulls his phone from his shorts pocket and quickly types a message.
He taps send and slips the phone back into his pocket.
With a deep breath, Julian pushes off again, the steady rhythm of his footsteps returning beneath the endless canopy of stars as he runs into the night.
It's Thursday morning, and Julian's lecture is in full swing. Harry and Grace sit in the back row, both listening intently to the professor's smooth, professional delivery.
"In this era, where political change is intertwined with the rise of new transportation…" Julian's voice rises and falls as he moves across the podium, engaging the class with his commanding presence.
Grace sits with her arms crossed, her eyes following every word. Her posture is relaxed, but her mind is sharp, taking in the lecture with a quiet intensity. Harry, however, glances over at her from the corner of his eye.
"I have a one-on-one session with Julian after this class. Wish me luck," he says, flashing a mischievous grin.
Grace turns her head slightly and nods, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Yeah, have a good talk," she responds, her voice soft but warm.
The hours seem to fly by. Julian's lecture style is captivating—engaging, professional, and so thorough that it draws the students into active participation. The room buzzes with energy by the time the class comes to an end.
As the students file out of the lecture hall, Harry and Grace make their way toward the entrance. Julian, as usual, is surrounded by students asking questions, his attention fully focused on them as he responds with the same level of passion he displayed during the lecture.
Harry raises his hand, catching Julian's attention.
"I'll see you in a while," he calls out.
Julian's gaze shifts to Harry, then to Grace, who stands beside him. A brief, knowing look passes between him and Grace before he turns his focus back to the students.
"Sure. I'll see you in an hour," Julian replies, his voice calm, with a hint of warmth as he gives Grace a quick glance and turns back to other students.
"Does your schedule work after the session with Professor Julian? We can dive into the group project right after. I can just stay at the library and work on my thesis in the meantime while you're with him," Grace asks, her voice light but practical as they walk down the aisle.
Harry grins widely, always ready to jump at any chance to get things done quickly.
"Sure. I'll make it real quick and come back," he says with a confident wink.
Grace chuckles softly, shaking her head.
"You don't need to do it real quick," she teases. "We're not in a race. Take your time. We've got all afternoon."
"Come in," Julian says, opening the door and gesturing for Harry to enter.
Harry steps inside, his eyes widening at the sight of the professor's office.
"Wow, this is easily the most well-designed professor's office I've ever been in," he remarks, taking in the elegant space around him.