Chapter 2
Later, my bestie told me Dylan had been blowing up all my old social media.]
The usual desperate shit: [Are you done with this BS yet?] [It’s just dating, why are you so dramatic?] [Add me back right now!]
She said: “At first Dylan was totally convinced you’d come running back. When you didn’t, he started losing it–like, just mentioning your name would set him off.”
Listening to her was like hearing about some stranger’s drama. Zero fucks given.]]
I took Mrs. Ashford’s fifty mil and rebuilt my entire life in Paris.
Got into this La Haute École de foaillerie–new language, new culture, brutal coursework. Everything was a challenge, but no more kissing Dylan’s ass, no more suffocating family drama. Just me, my sketches, and a future I actually wanted.
Years flew by in a blur.[]
Blood, sweat, and raw talent got me noticed–my jewelry pieces started killing it at Fashion Week, picked up some major international awards.]
Then Lumina hired me as new head designer and sent me back to the States to launch their North America market.]
First day back.]
I’m grabbing lunch downstairs from our new office when this tentative voice goes: “Savannah? Is that really you?”
I turn around–it’s this girl from high school. Emma something, used to sit in front of me.
Her jaw literally drops, eyes scanning me with pure shock
“Holy shit! It really Is you! You look completely different!”
That scared little people–pleaser from high school was gone. Years abroad had given me this quiet confidence I never knew I had.[]
“Long time no see.”
“This is fucking crazy! What are the odds!” Emma’s practically bouncing. “We’re having this reunion thing tonight, upstairs at Cloud Nine–tons of people coming, Dylan too! You HAVE to come! Nobody’s gonna recognize you!“]
Dylan?
That name felt like some ancient relic I’d forgotten existed.]
I was about to pass, but then thought–why avoid anything?[]
“Sure.“[]
Spent the day drowning in corporate transition hell.[]
By the time I remembered the reunion, I was already running late. Too lazy to hit the hotel for a change, so I just headed
upstairs in my casual clothes.[]
Pushed through the heavy doors into this wall of noise and chatter.
Huge private room, massive round table packed with people.]
I did a quick scan and my eyes landed on the king of the table–still holding court like always.]
Dylan.
He’d grown into his looks–sharper features, expensive casual blazer, same arrogant energy. Natural born center of attention.
Some young, hot girl was glued to his side–full glam, designer everything. Definitely not Sloane from back in the day.
Guess the arm candy gets regular updates.
After a beat of silence, some drunk guy spots me first.
“Holy fuck! Look who it is! Dylan! Your old lapdog Savannah’s here!”]
1100
