The Rejected Daughter

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jade’s hands trembled slightly as she opened the laptop, her heart thudding in her chest. The college portal had finally updated, and this was the moment she’d been building back toward.

She hovered over the “View Decision” button, biting her lip.

Just then, a knock tapped gently on the door.

She turned.

Kevin stood there, holding a bouquet of soft purple flowers her favorite color. He gave her a small smile.

“I thought you might need a bit of luck,” he said, stepping in and his voice having a bit of awkwardness in it, it was obvious he didn't do such things often.

She blinked at the flowers feeling warmth in her heart, she laughed nervously. “You timed that perfectly.”

“Click it,” he said softly.

Jade turned back to the screen, pressed the button. Jade stared at the screen, her heart catching in her throat.

“I got in,” she whispered first, then louder“I got in!”

She jumped up from the chair, nearly knocking over the laptop, her arms flying up in pure, unfiltered joy. “Kevin, I got in!”

Kevin chuckled, stepping forward just as she turned toward him, her eyes sparkling with disbelief.

Without thinking, she threw her arms around him in a sudden, tight hug. The bouquet of purple flowers was caught between them.

“I actually got in,” she breathed into his shoulder. “I didn’t think I would.”

Kevin didn’t answer right away. He held her gently, his arms around her waist.

And when she finally pulled back, laughing breathlessly, he looked at her.

Really looked at her.

His eyes softened, but behind them, something deeper stirred,something unspoken. Love, maybe. Or the moment right before it.

Jade stilled, suddenly aware of the closeness.

Kevin smiled faintly, the corners of his lips lifting.

The days that followed moved both fast and slow.

Jade spent her mornings surrounded by prep books, scattered notes, and coffee mugs she never finished. Kevin often found her curled on the living room floor with highlighters in her hair, fiercely focused and barely noticing him walk by until she’d throw a crumpled note at him and say, “Don’t just stand there looking impressive. Quiz me.”

Ethan dropped in daily, mostly to “check on her progress,” though he somehow always ended up losing to her in study games.

“I think you were born with a law book in your mouth,” he muttered one day after losing another round of study game.

“Nope,” Jade said smugly. “Just better memory and better hairline.”

The day of her departure arrived earlier than she had expected, each day the house felt a little more hollow, a little more final.

On her last morning, Jade walked through the mansion, soaking it all in she remembered how she had entered the mansion the first day she came and the scent of coffee from Kevin’s study, the scent and taste of the coffee Kevin made her on days she had late night studies.

Downstairs, she said goodbye to Linda and other maids present with tight hugs, one after another. When she reached Amara and the baby, her smile wobbled.

“Don’t grow up too fast,” she whispered, kissing the child’s forehead. “And don’t let them put you in socks you hate.”

Amara wiped her eyes as Jade stepped back.

Outside, Kevin stood by the car, hands in his pockets, trying not to look like he was waiting too hard.

Ethan leaned against the gate, pretending to check something on his phone.

Jade approached them with a grin. “So, who’s going to cry first?”

“Definitely Ethan,” Kevin said without missing a beat.

Ethan scoffed. “Please. If anyone’s emotional here, it’sdefinitely and obviously you .”

Jade laughed and hugged Ethan first, whispering something that made him roll his eyes but smile anyway. Then she turned to Kevin.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then she stepped forward and hugged him slow, full, like it meant something more than just goodbye.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For not giving up on me and for supporting me.”

She smiled as she pulled away, eyes lingering a second longer than necessary.

Then she climbed into the car, rolled down the window, popped her head out and called out, “Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone. And tell our coffee I'll miss it”

With one last wave, she was off, the gate closing slowly behind her as the house stood still, quieter than ever.