Chapter 308

6 Years Later:

“Finally, a PhD degree.”

Emilia whispered the words to Adrian, her shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

Adrian turned his head slowly.

She was looking straight ahead, wearing the most innocent expression she could manage, but the corners of her mouth kept betraying her. Beneath the black doctoral gown, her fingers were curled around his.

“Finally?” he repeated.

She nodded solemnly. “Finally.”

He looked at the auditorium, then back at her. “Should I congratulate the university for surviving you?”

Emilia smike widened. “Adrian.”

“What? I’m trying to understand the significance of this historic occasion.”

She bit her lip to suppress another laugh, as she nudged him with her elbow.

He caught her hand before she could pull it away and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles.

The gesture was small. Almost hidden beneath the folds of her gown, and the rustling movements of the people around them.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“No.”

His eyebrows rose.

“A little.”

“How little?”

She held up her thumb and forefinger, leaving the tiniest space between them. “That little.”

“Your hand has been shaking for the past ten minutes.”

“That’s because you’re holding it.”

“Would you like me to let go?”

Her fingers immediately tightened around his. “No.”

His smile softened. “Then I suppose we’re both stuck.”

She leaned towards him, resting her temple briefly against his shoulder. “Don’t cry.”

He looked down at her. “I haven’t cried.”

“You had trace of tears in your eyes when I defended my dissertation.”

“Your dissertation was very good.”

Emilia gave him a look. “You cried when I received my first research award.”

“It was an emotional day.”

“You cried when I told you the university had accepted my final revisions.”

“That was an exceptionally well-written email.”

She lifted her head, staring at him. “Adrian.”

“Emilia.”

“You cried when I passed my qualifying examination.”

“I had something in my eye.”

“And when I completed my master’s degree—”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“You were beautiful.”

She stared at him for a moment. Then she laughed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder again.

“You cannot keep getting away with that.”

“I’ve managed it for five years.”

Across the aisle, Kylie Benneth had her phone raised.

She had been recording since the moment the graduates entered the auditorium.

At first, she had tried to maintain a dignified expression, particularly after Christian leaned over and whispered that she was holding her phone at an angle that made the ceiling more prominent than the stage.

She had told him that he could film it himself if he thought he was such an expert.

He had taken the phone.

She had snatched it back. And now, five minutes later, she was filming again.

“Blue,” Christian murmured.

“Don’t distrct me.”

“I was going to ask whether the university had given you permission to record the entire ceremony.”

Kylie turned towards him with a sweet smile. “Would you like to keep your front teeth, Sinclair?”

His mouth twitched. “Very much.”

“Then be quiet.”

Christian leaned back in his seat, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

A few seats away, Adrian’s head turned towards them. He caught Kylie’s eye and raised his eyebrows.

Kylie gave him a discreet thumbs-up.

Then she pointed at Emilia. Then at her phone, and back at herself.

The message was clear.

Adrian nodded.

His expression softened as he turned back to the woman beside him.

Selena Hayes sat on her other side, dressed in a deep blue gown that brought out the warmth in her complexion.

Her hair was carefully arranged, and she wore the small gold earrings Emilia had bought for her after receiving her first major economic research award.

Emilia turned towards her. “Mum?”

Selena looked at her immediately. “Yes, baby?”

Sreached up and gently adjusted the collar of Emilia’s gown.

Emilia’s smile faltered. “Mum.”

“I know.” Selena’s fingers lingered against the fabric. “I know you’re a grown woman. I know you don’t need me to fuss over your clothes anymore.”

“Good.”

“And I know that if I try to tell you how to arrange your hair, you’ll remind me that you have a doctorate and can probably arrange your own hair.”

“I would never.”

Selena gave her a look.

Emilia smiled sheepishly. “Fine. I might.”

Selena laughed softly. Then she took Emilia’s hand. “I just want to remember this.”

Emilia looked down at their joined hands.

“This moment.” Selena swallowed. “You sitting here. Your gown. Your name waiting to be called. Adrian sitting beside you. Your friends somewhere behind us, probably making trouble.”

The dean began explaining the awards that would be presented alongside the doctoral degrees.

Emilia’s fingers tightened around Adrian’s.

He noticed immediately. “Here we go,” he murmured.

She swallowed.

He smiled.

Then he reached into the inner pocket of his gown and took out a neatly folded handkerchief.

Emilia stared at it. “Are you serious?”

“Preparedness is an admirable quality in a partner.”

Her mouth trembled.

He unfolded it and placed it in her hand. “Just in case.”

She looked down at the handkerchief.

Then she laughed, though the sound was unsteady. “Thank you.”

He kissed her temple.

And when the dean announced that the first award would be presented to Emilia Hayes, Adrian stood.

He stood as though someone had called his name.

“THAT’S MY LADY!”

The shout travelled through the auditorium.

Emilia froze. Her eyes widened. Then she turned towards him with an expression of complete horror.

“Adrian!”

He was already clapping. Loudly, and enthusiastically.

With the confidence of a man who had never once considered the possibility that other people might be embarrassed by him.

Kylie made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scream. “YES, EMILIA!”

Her phone remained pointed at the stage.

Christian leaned back in his chair, laughing openly. “Oh, this is going to be a long day.”

Adrian didn’t sit down.

He clapped harder.

The people seated around him began to laugh, their attention turning towards the man standing in the middle of the doctoral audience and cheering as though his entire life depended on it.

Emilia pressed her lips together.

Her face was burning.

She wanted to disappear beneath her gown. She also wanted to kiss him.

Both feelings seemed equally urgent.

“Adrian Ashford,” she whispered fiercely.

He looked at her. His face was entirely innocent. “What?”

“Sit down!”

He glanced around.

Several people were smiling at him.

One of the faculty members on the stage appeared to be struggling to maintain a professional expression.