_Nathan’s POV_
The last day without Miles should have been simple.
Get through morning class. Get through practice. Keep the calendar tight. Wait for the evening flight. That was the plan. Theo even repeated it back to me outside the dining hall like a checklist, as if order alone could finish the week cleanly.
It almost worked.
Until Rowan stopped using the office line.
I was cutting behind the old language building after practice, a quieter route I’d been using all week to avoid unnecessary conversation, when he stepped out from the side path near the empty seminar annex. No receptionist. No formal window. No polite buffer. Just Rowan in a dark coat, hands bare, expression composed enough to look intentional rather than impulsive.
“Nathan,” he said. “A word.”
I stopped because tur
