Chapter 41

Dear Ryland,

The last few days have been some of the happiest days of my life. I know our circumstances haven't changed. You still have your responsibilities to your family and we are still forbidden in the eyes of the public. But I feel you softening with every warm gaze you give me in class, the trail of your fingers over mine as I hand my work to you. The way you kiss me and hold me in your arms like I'm your peace.

I know you'll have moments of uncertainty and I'm prepared for it. After all, it's hard to overcome years of upbringing, tricking you into thinking a certain way.

But life is not limiting and has many avenues and possibilities.

Someday, I'll convince you we have all the tomorrows in the world, and the skies will not fall because we are together.

You're not my prison. You're my heaven.

Love, Millie

PRESSING THE HEAT PAD above my lower abdomen, I wince and fail to keep a neutral face during my video chat with Belle and Taylor.

"Dude, you look kinda green, Millie," Taylor unhelpfully supplies as she takes a sip of…is that carrot juice? My stomach turns at the revolting sight.

Grace slides her arm around my shoulders and answers for me, "It's that time of the month for Millie, poor thing, and she ran out of painkillers. I've sent Steven for some of those extra strength ones. He'll be back soon."

"Do you want anything to eat? Hot tea or your favorite gummy bears?" Taylor frowns.

I shake my head. I've lost my appetite completely.

"Are you sure you're still up for The Ball, Millie? You don't have to go." Belle brushes her hair to one side as she takes a sip from a ceramic cup.

The glittering lights of the Eiffel Tower are in full view outside the window of her hotel room. Her family has opted to go to Paris for the holidays, to celebrate her grandmother's eightieth birthday instead of attending the infamous Christmas Ball at The Orchid.

I nod as another flash of pain carves through me, and I take in deep breaths. My periods have been horrific since my early teens, and there were days when I used to be so sick I could barely get out of bed because I'd be too nauseated and dizzy, the throbbing in my abdomen too unbearable. Those were horrific days. Later, after a checkup with my gynecologist, I learned I had dysmenorrhea, the medical term for painful periods.

In the recent year or two, after I got on birth control, the pain has lessened to a point I can resume normal activities provided I take extra strength ibuprofen and don't over-exert myself, but I didn't realize I ran out when the pain hit this morning, and I'm once again reminded how awful it is to be a woman.

"I'll be fine, girls. I promised Adrian I would show up and mingle with a few folks for him now that my relationship with him is out in the open. He's taking Emily to the Maldives. He never takes any time off and so this vacation means a lot to him. I just need to show up for a few hours, put on a smile, and chitchat. I'll be fine once Steven comes back with the meds."

Plus, he'll be there.

Ryland mentioned a few days ago, after he doled out another intense orgasm in the back of his town car when we headed back to his apartment after class, he'd be at The Ball with his family, as usual, for Christmas.

He held my eyes, his gaze softened after the throes of sex, and whispered, "I'm sorry I can't spend Christmas with you."

He didn't need to say anything more. I understood. After all, he couldn't really invite me to The Ball with him or introduce me as his woman to his family.

We belong in the shadows. An illicit secret. The brightest flame shining in the darkest hours of the night, always threatened by the brightness of the encroaching dawn.

My heart clenches at the thought. I want more. So much more.

But if I'm going on behalf of my brother, that's a different story, right?

"You need to tell me how The Ball is," Belle says, drawing my attention back to her.

"Why have you never been before? For me, I was trying to keep my relationship with Adrian under wraps, but your family is in high society."

Belle rubs a delicate hand over her elfin face and shrugs. "I'm never one for all those fancy shindigs, fake smiling, and brownnosing. That's what The Orchid is to me, anyway, before you girls—a lot of rich people trying to outshine each other, gossiping, and everything. The amenities I'm sure are nice, but I don't really need them. I prefer to spend time doing things I truly enjoy."

She leans in and looks around furtively before whispering, "I guess you can say it's my tiny act of rebellion. It drives my parents crazy how I don't fall in line like most of the socialites in our circles."

"Hell yeah, I dig the rebellion," Tay comments.

Belle grins, a spark shining in her warm eyes. "But now that Grace is with Steven, and you're stepping into society…maybe I'll tag along next time, and we can have a girls' night at that Japanese medspa I've heard much about."

A noise travels from her laptop. She suddenly looks to her side and swivels her head back at us. "Sorry, girls. Have to run. We have tickets to the Moulin Rouge."

Grace sighs. "I'm so jealous of you, Belle. I love Paris." Her violet eyes take on a wistful gleam.

Taylor snorts. "Of course you do. Steven proposed to you there and gave you the trip of a lifetime. Look at that ice skating rink on your finger." She smirks at the love-drunk expression on Grace's face.

Steven proposed to Grace this past Thanksgiving in one of those straight-out-of-fairytale's plot lines by whisking her off to the city of love, the one place she wanted to visit for the longest time but never had the funds to do so when she and Taylor barely kept afloat growing up.

My heart pinches at the dreamy smile on Grace's face, and an unexpected rush of sadness curls itself around my rib cage. I'm truly happy for my friend, someone with a heart of gold and kindness.

But I can't help but want the same with Ryland. Wishing I could stroll hand in hand with him in public, my head nestled against his strong shoulder, him smiling warmly at me as he wipes off the whipped cream stuck on my upper lip after I drink a big sip of hot chocolate; him bending me backward in front of the Rockefeller Center and giving me a passionate kiss to rival those we see in movies.

The little, everyday vignettes of a life full of love and brightness. That's what I want with him, a desperate tugging, an aching yearning.

I don't need the luxuries of The Orchid or the wealth of being with an Anderson.

I just want him.

The thought adds to the heaviness in my chest as another wave of agony tears through my abdomen. I close my eyes, breathing through the layers of pain threatening to unmoor me.