Mary's POV
The morning breeze was crisp and cool as Mary and Stephen made their way across campus, weaving through the early student crowd. She tugged her hoodie sleeve over her hand and held it close to her mouth, breathing in warmth. Students rushed around them, bags swinging, coffee cups clutched like lifelines.
Mary,Drake,Stephen and Sasha are all senior students. Mary and Stephen are in the same department while Drake and Sasha are also in the same department. All in their final year
Their general course lecture was scheduled for 8:00 a.m., and most of the department was already heading toward the main building. The energy buzzed with typical morning chatter — gossip, assignment panic, and low-effort greetings.
Mary and Stephen walked in silence at first, content in their rhythm.
Until Mary's eyes caught something — or someone — that made her steps hesitate.
There, near the steps of the Business Complex, Drake stood beside Sasha.
His posture was stiff, one hand in his pocket, his jaw locked in a way Mary hadn't seen before. Sasha stood in front of him, her body turned inward, face tight with frustration. She wasn't shouting, but it was obvious — they were arguing.
And it wasn't subtle.
Mary didn't mean to look. But she did. For longer than she should've.
Drake's gaze, as if pulled by instinct, lifted. Their eyes met across the distance.
Just a second. Just a flash.
Then Stephen's voice cut in.
"You good?"
She blinked and turned her head, startled. "What?"
"You stopped walking." His tone was casual, but his eyes searched hers. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," she said quickly. "I just—was thinking."
Stephen followed her gaze but didn't say anything else. Instead, he gently tapped her arm to guide her forward, and they walked past the scene without a word. Drake didn't look back. Sasha glanced briefly at them but said nothing.
As they walked into the building, Mary couldn't shake the heaviness in her chest — or the way Drake's eyes hadn't just looked at her… they'd seen her.
⸻
Inside the lecture hall, the room buzzed with pre-class murmurs.
"That's Drake Edward — his dad owns half of the Kingswood estate."
"You mean the guy Sasha's dating? That's old money, girl. Legit old." Students grouped into familiar clusters — some flipping through notes, others scrolling on their phones. Mary and Stephen moved toward their usual seats near the window.
"Wonder what that was about," Stephen said finally, sliding into his chair.
Mary didn't respond. Not because she didn't want to — but because she wasn't sure how to.
"Probably just rich people drama," Stephen added, already pulling out his notebook. "They argue. They reconcile in a Benz."
Mary let out a soft chuckle.
Stephen tilted his head to glance at her. "But seriously, you okay? You seemed off."
She gave a small nod. "I'm good."
⸻
They sat in a small lull of silence before Mary looked over and asked, "So… did you finally move in?"
Stephen brightened. "Yep. Yesterday. Still can't find my charger, but yeah, we're officially residents of Kingswood Heights."
She raised her eyebrows. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. Crazy, right? My dad decided overnight the old place was 'beneath his new position.' So now we've got glass staircases and security gates like we're in a spy movie."
Mary smiled. "You told me they were considering it, but I didn't know it happened already."
Stephen nodded. "It's weird though. I barely know the neighbors. The houses are spaced like the people inside don't want to talk to anyone."
Mary smirked. "That's because they probably don't."
He chuckled. "You're not wrong."
She tilted her head. "So you haven't met anyone there yet?"
"Nah. Just waved at a few gardeners and almost ran over a dog. That's about it."
Mary's eyes lingered on him for a moment. "You do realize Drake lives in Kingswood Heights, right?"
Stephen paused mid-reach for his pen. "Wait. Seriously?"
"You didn't know?"
"I thought he was from the city—like one of those penthouse-type families."
"Nope. His house is… massive. Like, actual palace massive."
Stephen looked at Mary curiously
"How did you know?"
"I heard from the gossip when we entered the lecture hall"
Stephen let out a low whistle and leaned back. "Well, I guess I'll find out soon. I hope he doesn't see me jogging in mismatched socks."
Mary laughed softly, and for a moment, the weight of earlier drifted away.
Stephen George was what people called the quiet type of rich. His family didn't flaunt their money, but it was obvious in the details—how he dressed without logos but always crisp, how he never seemed rushed, how he talked to everyone like they mattered.
He wasn't loud. Wasn't dramatic. He was confident without trying.
His family had recently moved into a smaller mansion on the outer edge of the elite Kingswood Heights estate — just a few blocks from the Edward family estate. Their new home wasn't as grand as Drake's, but it had glass walls, Italian marble floors, and a chandelier Mary once joked looked like a spaceship.
His new house might not be a palace like the Edward estate, but Mary had seen a photo of it on his phone — white-stone exterior, a wide driveway with sculpted hedges, and tall glass windows that reflected the sunset like gold.
It was wealth.
But it wasn't cold.
Stephen made it feel human.
He could afford anything.
But he preferred late-night walks and home-cooked rice.
Stephen looked at her now, still smiling. "You'll come see the house, right?"
Mary shrugged playfully. "Only if there's fried rice."
"There's always fried rice."
⸻
Back in the hall, the lecturer's assistant began setting up at the front of the room.
A few minutes later, the door opened again — and Drake walked in.
He didn't speak to anyone. He just slid into his seat two rows ahead like nothing had happened.
Mary looked down, pretending to scribble something in her notebook, but her heart skipped once.
Not because he looked at her.
But because he didn't.