Two weeks after the conference, things began to shift—not just professionally, but personally too. Opportunities I never imagined were pouring in. Invitations to panels, research requests, and even a tentative offer from UCLA Medical to join a pediatric research fellowship post-residency. It all felt surreal.
One afternoon, I returned home to our apartment, kicking off my shoes with a tired sigh. Sophie was on the couch, her laptop open and music playing softly in the background.
"You look like you've just done brain surgery," she joked, glancing up.
"Feels like I did," I replied, collapsing beside her. "I'm exhausted."
She shut her laptop and turned to me. "You're glowing though. I'm so proud of you, Char. The speech, the research—this version of you is unstoppable."
"I couldn't have done any of it without you," I said honestly. "You saw something in me long before I ever did."
She smiled softly, and for a moment, we just sat in that warm silence. Our lives had changed so much. From awkward first days in the dorms to now, strong, driven women on the brink of even more.
Later that night, James invited us over for a movie night at his place. I almost said no—I was swamped—but something told me I needed the pause. Sophie and I grabbed snacks, bundled into cozy clothes, and walked the few blocks.
We picked an old romantic comedy that made Sophie dramatically quote every cheesy line, and James—who usually rolled his eyes at this genre—actually laughed. Halfway through, Sophie dozed off on the armchair, leaving me and James side by side on the couch, a quiet space forming between us.
"I never got to tell you how proud I was," James said, breaking the silence. "That speech… it moved people. You moved me."
I looked at him. There was no teasing in his voice this time—just sincerity.
"I meant every word," I said. "I didn't know if it would make sense to anyone else, but it was the truth. All of it."
He nodded, then looked down for a moment. "I see you now, Charlotte. I mean, I saw you before too, but—" he chuckled awkwardly. "You're kind of unforgettable now."
My heart fluttered—not from the compliment itself, but from the softness in his tone. The unguarded way he said it.
Still, I didn't press for more. We were walking this path slowly, step by step. And for once, I wasn't rushing. I was just… content.
When Sophie stirred awake and groaned about missing the ending, James winked at me. "Guess we'll have to do a rerun."
The night ended with laughter, warm hugs, and the peaceful knowledge that while our college days were behind us, something new was quietly blooming ahead.
Not just a career.
But a life.
One filled with purpose, connection, and maybe—just maybe—love that wasn't built on grand gestures but slow, sincere moments.
Moments like this.