I’ve been careful for so long. Obedient, always hiding behind the rules, the schedule, the endless expectations of what an Ashford should be. But with Hudson around, it’s like something’s come loose inside me. He makes me feel wild,reckless, and alive. Like the world is bigger, stranger, and so much more dangerous than I was ever allowed to imagine.
I try to refocus as I scroll through a lecture on early childhood development.
I should care.
I mean…I do care. Being able to work with children has always held a special place in my heart. It’s the one place I could see myself being free. But every time I start to type a sentence, I remember the way Hudson’s voice went rough when he said my name, the way his body pressed against mine, how I felt so powerful but vulnerable, all at the same time.
I wonder if he’s thinking about it too.
Before I know it, most of the day has slipped by, not even stopping to eat lunch. Besides, I’m too nervous to eat anyway. I’m so used to being alone that the sound of someone knocking on my door makes me jump. I instinctively pull my knees up under me, heart thumping.
“Come in?”
Hudson steps in, filling the doorway. He looks delicious in his gray T-shirt, jeans, and bare feet. But there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes find me, taking in my still tangled hair, the ratty college T-shirt I changed into, and the stack of books and notes that might as well be from another life.
He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his thick chest. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me,” he says, his mouth curving into that dangerous half smile that makes my stomach flip.
I shrug, acting casual. “I’m catching up on schoolwork.”
He lifts a brow. “You didn’t come out for lunch.”
I can’t hold his gaze. “I wasn’t hungry.”
He walks over and sets a plate down on my desk. There’s a sandwich, an apple, and a handful of chips.
“Eat,” he says, firm but not unkind. “You’ll think better with food in you.”
I pick up the sandwich, unable to hold back a smile. “You sound like my grandma.”
He grins, and just like that, the tension breaks. “Your grandma must be a wise woman.”
I nod, smiling at the memory of her soft hands and the scent of lavender that always clung to her clothes.
“She used to tell me that food feeds the body, but dreams feed the soul. And you need both to survive.”
Hudson sits on the edge of my bed, close enough that I can smell the faint scent of his cologne. I pick up the sandwich and take a bite, realizing how hungry I actually am.
“So,” he says, “what are you working on? Just school stuff, or are you planning your escape from this caged palace?”
I laugh.
“Just school. My major is early childhood development. I want to work with kids, maybe become a teacher or counselor. I like the idea of helping little kids grow up believing they matter.”
He nods.
“I think that fits you perfectly. You’d be good at it. You’re patient. Kind.”
My smile fades. “My dad says it’s a waste of time. He says my job is to support the family, not chase impractical dreams.”
Hudson's jaw tightens. “Your dad can go to hell, too.”
I snort, then slap a hand over my mouth, shocked at my own boldness. Hudson laughs, low and rough, and the sound causes that familiar flutter in the pit of my stomach.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Ivory. You know you don’t have to marry Damian, right?”
My whole body goes rigid. “I don’t think I have a choice, Hudson,” I whisper. “It’s always been this way. My father makesthe decisions. My mother obeys. And I… I conform to what they need me to be. It’s business,” I say with a shrug.
“That’s not living, Ivory. That’s surviving. There’s more in life for you than that way of living.”
