CHAPTER 74: CHAPTER 74 THE PAST IS THE PAST

Ryan’s POV

I stare at her through the glass door of Dreamland Studio, my heart sinking as her assistant firmly but politely denies me entry.

"Ms. Serena isn’t available today, Mr. Blackwood." The words hang in the air like a sentence. I’ve been rejected three times this week alone.

Walking back to my car, I clench my fists in frustration. How did we get here? Just days ago, on that island vacation, everything had felt perfect—Serena and I laughing under the sun, our hands entwined as the waves lapped at our feet.

We were happy, completely in sync. And now...she won’t even take my calls.

"Simon," I turn to my assistant who’s waiting by the car. "What would you do to make someone forgive you? Especially when they’ve completely shut you out?"

Simon adjusts his glasses thoughtfully. "Honestly, sir? I’d find out what matters to them and invest in that. People appreciate when you show interest in their passions."

I fall silent, turning the small jewelry box over in my hand—the gift I’d originally planned to give Serena during our vacation.

"Thank you, Simon," I say, pocketing the box. "That’s actually helpful."

The next day, I’m knee-deep in quarterly reports when my phone lights up with Sophie’s name. My jaw tightens instinctively.

"Ryan, I’m at headquarters handling some work transitions and haven’t eaten yet. How about we grab lunch together?" Her voice is sweet, familiar yet somehow wrong now.

I hesitate, about to refuse, when she continues pushing.

"Ryan, even just as friends, I’ve been back for several days now. Surely you can welcome me back properly?"

Her reasoning makes it difficult to refuse without seeming rude. I check the time - just a quick lunch, then back to work. "Fine. Twenty minutes, at the restaurant across the street."

Sophie is already seated when I arrive, her eyes lighting up as I approach. Throughout the meal, her gaze rarely leaves my face, her words dripping with concern.

"Ryan, you look thinner. Are you working too hard?"

I shake my head. "I’m fine."

"You should eat more then," she insists, leaning forward slightly.

I nod without engaging further. The steak arrives, and Sophie sighs dramatically.

"Remember how you used to cut my steak for me? My, how times have changed."

I feel a heaviness settle in my chest and frown slightly. This nostalgia serves no purpose except to complicate things further.

"Sometimes I really envy Serena," Sophie says, her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. "She gets to be with you every day."

"Sophie," I say firmly, looking away from her eyes. "The past is the past. Let’s not revisit it."

"You’re right," she quickly recovers. "Let’s not talk about sad things. Ryan, I actually wanted to thank you for helping me settle back in New York."

"No need for thanks," I say flatly.

"It’s just that the subsidiary is so far from downtown," she continues, her hint painfully obvious. "It makes it difficult to do anything... including seeing you more often."

I pretend not to understand her implication. The last thing I need is to give Serena more reason to doubt me. I’ve already caused enough damage to our relationship.

Throughout lunch, I can see Sophie growing frustrated with my unresponsiveness. Good. Maybe she’ll finally understand that whatever we had is over.

As we finished eating, she stood up and said she needed to use the restroom. But barely two steps in, she cried out sharply, clutching her stomach in pain.

"Ouch!"

I walk over, maintaining a proper distance. "What happened?"

"I think I twisted my ankle," she whimpers, clutching at my arm. "It hurts so much, I can’t stand."

Her body presses against mine in a way that makes me uncomfortable.

"Let’s get you to a hospital," I say, helping her up while keeping as much space between us as possible.

Sophie grimaces, continuously hissing in pain. "Ryan, I don’t think I can walk. Could you carry me?"

I frown at her request. "The car’s right outside. You can make it that far."

Her pleading eyes don’t move me. I’ve seen this act before, and I’m not falling for it again.

At the hospital, after a quick examination, I prepare to leave.

"I’ll have my assistant take you home," I say firmly. "I have a meeting this afternoon that I can’t miss."

Despite her pitiful expression, I walk out of the hospital with no intention of attending any meeting. Instead, I head straight to Dreamland Studio. Serena has been ignoring my calls since we returned from the island, and I need to see her.

I stop to buy a bouquet of vibrant Violets—her favorites. The moment I walk into the studio, all eyes turn toward me. Maya Carter immediately rushes over, blocking my path.

"Well, well! Is the sun rising in the west today? The great Mr. Blackwood gracing us with his presence—what an unexpected honor," she says sarcastically.

"I’m here for Serena. Is she in?" I ask, my eyes already searching for Serena’s office.

Maya waves her hand directly in front of my face. "She’s on a tight deadline for some sketches. Probably doesn’t have time for you."

"Sketches? She shouldn’t be overworking herself," I say, my frown deepening as I try to step around Maya.

"Hey!" she calls after me. "I don’t mind you visiting, but I’m worried you two will just end up fighting again. Have you dealt with that ’first love’ situation yet?"

I stop in my tracks. "Is that why Serena’s still upset?"

Maya looks at me like I’m an idiot, barely restraining an eye roll. "Of course she is! This isn’t just any woman—this is the person you’ve apparently been pining for all these years. She suddenly returns, and you expect Serena not to care?"

Looking at my complicated expression, Maya continues, "Serena might not say it out loud, but don’t you think you should take a stand? If you’re just going to let things slide, then maybe you don’t deserve a place in her heart."

"After all," she adds softly, "people only get jealous when they care."

I consider her words carefully, then nod. "I’ll explain everything to Serena clearly. Thank you for the advice."

Maya finally relaxes, stepping aside. "Go on then. Talk to her properly."

I nod gratefully and enter Serena’s office. She doesn’t look up, assuming it’s Maya.

"Stop rushing me, it’s almost done," she mutters, focused on her work.

Only when I place the roses on her desk does she realize who’s there. She glances up briefly, then immediately looks back down at her work.

"What are you doing here?" she asks coldly.

"I came to see you," I say gently. "Keep working. I’ll just sit here and wait."

I retreat to the sofa across from her desk, unable to take my eyes off her. Watching Serena work—so focused and professional—I’m struck again by how captivating she is.