The early morning air was cool, the kind that made me want to stay in bed just a little longer. But today wasn't about me.
Today, I was going to get up early to see if I could give her a lift
Camila.
She was standing by the gate, arms crossed, curls bouncing slightly in the breeze. Her backpack looked way too heavy for someone who carried herself so light. I slowed the car, lowere window.
"Morning," I said, watching her blink into the sun.
"Hey," she replied, slipping into the seat beside me with a soft smile. "Thanks for this."
"Anytime," I said, and meant it.
I would take her anywhere she wanted
I pulled out her phone punched my number in and saved it as personal driver with a heart can't forget that
"Here. I already saved yours."
She scrolled. Her laugh was soft but genuine.
"Personal Driver?"
"With a heart," I added. "Let's not forget the heart."
She shook her head, amused. Her laugh made something settle in my chest.
I asked her if I could take her somewhere after school she looked a little taken aback but said yes she wanted to know where but that was a surprise.
When we got to her school, she lingered for a second before getting out.
"So... after school?" she asked.
"Yeah. I've got a plan," I said, watching her nod. "You'll like it."
She smiled and shut the door.
I noticed how people stared at her it made me feel uneasy but I had to go.
My campus was louder, messier—and smelled like herbs and pastry dough.
Culinary arts school wasn't your average scene, but it was where I came alive. Knife skills in the morning. Baking by noon. I was halfway through prepping a lemon soufflé when my phone buzzed.
Dad: "Reminder: Dinner with board members pushed to Friday. Meeting with financial advisor today at 3:30. You should attend."
I didn't answer. Not yet.
Chef Lorna raised a brow at me.
"Don't ruin the meringue, Anthony."
I focused back on the bowl. My meringue peaked perfectly. Still got it.
But that message settled in my gut like bad sauce.
Business management. That's what he wanted. The family legacy. My father's company—he expected me to run it like he did, suit and tie, shareholder meetings, golf on weekends.
But this—this kitchen, these ingredients—this was mine.
By the time lunch rolled around, I knew I wouldn't make it to the surprise spot after school. The meeting was non-negotiable, and if I skipped it, it would be a war at home.
I stared at Camila's contact for a moment before texting her:
"Can I still pick you up? Need to talk. Nothing bad, promise."
She replied fast:
"Sure. I'll see you after."
I pulled in her schools parking lot people stared at my car like it had horns it wasn't cheap but it wasn't anything expensive it was a 2024 Honda civic
When she got in the car, her smile dimmed slightly, like she already knew.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"Sort of," I said, pulling out of the lot. "I have to raincheck our plans today. My dad's pulling me into a meeting—one of those 'learn the empire' kind of things."
"Business management?" she guessed.
I glanced at her. "Yeah. How'd you—?"
"You strike me as someone who'd rather be anywhere else but a boardroom."
I smiled. "You're not wrong."
She didn't get upset. Just nodded, thoughtful.
"I can't take you to the surprise spot today," I said, "but... I can offer a peace treaty."
We pulled into the diner near the creek.
"You like milkshakes?"
"Who doesn't?" she said, already smiling again.
We sat at a booth by the window, two milkshakes between us—vanilla for her, coffee for me. She dipped her straw, stirred slowly, watching the light catch the glass.
"Thanks for still showing up," she said after a moment.
"I wouldn't disappear on you," I said, looking at her straight. "Even if I had to cancel, I wasn't just gonna leave you waiting."
She looked at me like she was weighing every word, and then—she nodded.
That was enough.
Later, when I dropped her off, I waited until she was at her gate before I left. She turned back once, waved.
And for the first time all day, the pressure in my chest eased just a little.