Chapter 43

I thought it'd be terrifying, giving her the pendant. Having my heart live outside of me. But instead, I feel a strange sense of calm, because now she knows what she means to me. Even if we can't be the end goal, at least I can give her this bit of honesty.

It's the least I can do, and she deserves so much more.

A few people stare at me as I'm sure I stand out like a sore thumb in front of the feminine products aisle, their whispers drawing me out of my thoughts.

I ignore them as I survey the rows of colorful packages in front of me at the pharmacy one block away from The Orchid, a shopping basket in one hand and my cell phone in the other.

My phone pings, a new message from the chat group, "The Orchid Shenanigans," with my siblings and my good friends.

Lana

You want to get maxi pads of various sizes. If she's in a lot of pain, she's probably in the beginning days of her period. So, you want some overnight ones, some heavy ones and maybe a few regulars. Get the ones with the wings.

A few seconds later, another text follows.

Lana

Ah shit. Sorry, I meant to privately message you but accidentally replied in the group chat.

Then my phone lights up with a deluge of messages. I called Lana after I carried Millie upstairs to my apartment, changed her out of her gown and into one of my T-shirts, and tucked her into bed with a heating pad I got from Gretchen.

Millie looked so pale, her slight frame shaking with tremors every so often, her body drenched in sweat. Desperation flooded my insides at the misery I saw on her face.

What I would do to take that pain away from her. I'd rather someone slice off my hands than to see her writhing in agony on my bed.

I could've asked Gretchen or the other staff to purchase the supplies for me from the pharmacy, but somehow, that didn't feel right.

I needed to be the one to pick out the items for her, to ensure she has the best of the best. I wanted to be the one to care for her, even though I couldn't love her in the public manner she deserved.

The Ball, the speech, and everything else faded into the background, my priority first and foremost, her.

Then, I arrived at the pharmacy and realized I had no idea what I was doing and had to enlist Lana for advice on what items I should get for Millie.

I roll my eyes as I read the other texts hitting the chat group incessantly.

Rex

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop the presses. What on earth is going on? Why is B asking about…pads? Wings? What the fuck is happening?

I smirk. I can see his grimace all the way from over here.

Ethan

Because B is a mature man who is comfortable with his masculinity. Because his woman is obviously suffering from that time of the month. And Ryland, for the record, I knew you had a woman.

Rex

What makes you the expert, Ethan? And no shit. We all knew he was hiding someone this entire time. It's as obvious as the sky is blue.

I guess I haven't been very good at hiding my feelings. But I'm actually relieved my family and close friends know how I feel about Millie. They won't tell anyone. I trust them with my life.

The texts continue to light up my phone.

Ethan

I'm a mature man myself, unlike someone.

Lana

Morons. All of you. Except Ryland. I think it's sweet what he's doing. Even if everyone at The Ball is asking me about his whereabouts now. I'll handle the PR side of things, B. I have your back.

Maxwell

Don't worry about The Ball. We got you covered. Go take care of Millie.

My breath freezes in my throat as I realize the attention I've drawn to us by dancing with her. Of course, people will notice. I should've known. Fuck. I hope this doesn't cause problems for Millie later.

The three dots appear on the screen, and I see the statuses noting multiple people are typing at the same time. God, I love my siblings and friends, but they are a fucking nosy bunch.

Rex

Millie Callahan? That's the girl you're dancing with? The one you look like you were seconds away from devouring on the dance floor? You're dating The Shark's sister?!

Seconds pass and another text comes through.

Rex

Paging Grace and Taylor… Where are you at, dear sisters? How come you kept this interesting tidbit from me? I thought I was your favorite brother.

Grace

Because you're the worst gossip in the entire world, Rex. If we told you anything, the world would know about it half a second later.

Taylor

Ryland is restoring my faith in the opposite gender, but then that's offset by you, Rex. So, my opinions of the male species have remained unchanged.

Steven

What about me, Tay? I'm a good soon to be brother-in-law to you.

Taylor

Fine. I'll give you a pass. Thank you for sending over that citrus carrot cake from Estrelle's. They are to die for.

She sends over a photo of herself dressed in some fuzzy pajamas, her mouth stuffed with cake. She said she'd rather die before attending a stuffy ball with the rest of us.

Charles

Get off your high horse, Tay. If I were to judge women by you only, I'd have different opinions as well. And seriously, carrot cake? It's disgusting.

Taylor

Say that to my face, Charles. I dare you. *Knife emoji*

Charles

*Audio message of him calling Taylor a brat.*

She and Charles have been at it since they met, and I have no idea how she pissed off my blond, good-natured friend. He's the man everyone likes to hang out with, the guy who constantly bemoans his single status because he actually wants to settle down but hasn't been able to find the one.

Lana

Oh jeez. I should've called Ryland instead, but I didn't want to talk on the phone while I was schmoozing with everyone. Ryland, after you get the pads and the ibuprofen, get some snacks that she'll love. Chocolates, chips, the yummy and not-good-for-you stuff. I always crave them during my time of the month.

Grace

You're a good man, Ryland. At first, I was worried about you two, but now I'm glad she has you.

For now.

Guilt stabs me in the chest and I put my cell phone back in my pocket as I pick the most expensive pads of the sizes Lana suggested and put them in the basket. I don't know which brands are the best, but going with the priciest can't be wrong.

Deep down, I know Millie and I can't last. Despite her whispering, "we still have tomorrow," in my ears every time we are together, our circumstances haven't changed. We are still forbidden in the court of public opinion, and even if we get past that temporary situation, there's still the family trust, the iron-clad rules that'll force her to give up everything if she were to stay with me.

Even if I want to be selfish, even if I can take the risk of our relationship blowing up in our faces, ruining my family's much lauded, centuries-old reputation, killing our IPO plans, which is going well at the current moment, and saying goodbye to the pipe dream of becoming a tenured professor, there's no way I can take her dreams away from her.

I can hurt myself a thousand times over, but I can never let her give up everything to be with me. And I can't do what Dad did to Grace and Taylor's mom and be with Millie without the promise of marriage in the future.

She deserves that and more from a man.

This is my act of love for her, to set her free to find someone else, someone who can love her unequivocally and give her everything.

And so, this time we have together is a beautiful dream I'm giving to myself. One where I know I'll need to wake up from at any moment and face reality. But my selfishness drives me to give myself one more tomorrow, one more moment with her, to delay the inevitable.

Striding over to the snack aisle, I pick out a few bars of Swiss chocolate, some gummy bears from the German brand she loves, a bag of mini marshmallows, and a few bags of potato chips. Then I grab a bottle of ibuprofen and quickly pay for the items before hurrying back to The Orchid where Millie is waiting for me.

Minutes later, I arrive back at my penthouse.

Gretchen greets me as I open the door. "She's resting but not asleep, the poor thing."

"Thank you for looking after her. I'll take it from here."

She dips her head and disappears back into her quarters.

I carry the shopping bag and tread quietly into the master bedroom in case she managed to fall asleep.

The whimpering sounds from the small lump in the middle of my bed are the sharpest blades carving into my heart. I'll fight the world to relieve her of her pain.

"Millie, I'm back."

She shuffles on the bed, sits up, and gives me a wobbly smile. Her face is glistening with sweat as she tries her best to hide her pain.

My brave girl. My fighter.

"You didn't have to," she says as she looks at the bag I set on the bed.

Sitting next to her, I take her clammy hands in mine, my fingers rubbing some heat into her. "Of course I have to. I need to take care of you." While I still can. While we still have our tomorrows.

I smile, my fingers tucking a damp lock of hair behind her ear before I press a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I hope I got everything you need."

Carefully, I retrieve the packets of sanitary pads, the snacks, the medicine, and the water. I uncap the water bottle, shake out two tablets of ibuprofen from its container, and hand them to her.

"Take this first. It'll lessen your pain."

She follows my instructions and brushes her hand on my cheek. "This is more than enough. How did you know?"

Heat rises to my face and I mumble, "I asked Lana."

Her lips curve up in a dazzling smile, clearly pleased I consulted my sister on her ailment. She throws herself on me and buries her face in my neck.

"I love you, Ryland."

Millie presses a kiss on my skin. I shudder as a hot ember sparks to life inside my chest at her soft touch and further fanned by her words.

She loves me.

I don't deserve her love. My voice is trapped in my throat, and I clutch her tightly to me, my fingers digging into her slender back. My mouth opens and closes, trying to get the words I feel so strongly out, but I've lost the ability to speak.

"You don't have to say anything, Ryland. I know how you feel," she whispers before pulling back, her hands clutching the key pendant tightly.

As Christmas approached, after every scorching and heartrending kiss between us, after our bodies coming together time and time again, our souls merging into one, I felt an undeniable urge to give her half of Mom's pendant.

Maybe my story doesn't have a happy ending, but selfishly, I want her to carry a piece of me with her always. After all, my heart already resides with hers, where I know she'll take good care of it.

My vision blurs as I curl my hand over hers. Maybe I can't get those three words out, but I want to tell her the truth. I want her to understand why I can't live for myself, why I can't be with her.

Why our tomorrows are limited.

"Millie, my family is under the regulations of a family trust formed long ago." I caress her fingers in mine, relishing the soft skin, the strength laced in the delicate digits.

I tell her about the rules of the trust, which I hinted at that evening in the bath. I tell her how I can never leave Fleur or everyone else in the family will lose their fortune. I tell her how anyone joining the family has to give up his or her dreams and how I can't do this to her. I tell her about the family curse, how the woman the firstborn male of the family loves and marries always dies from a premature death under suspicious accidents.

The words pour out from inside me, the poison so dark, I can't help but feel it's corrupting her just by listening to my thoughts, absorbing my selfishness.

How I want to risk everyone's happiness to live for myself. How I'm resentful of everyone around me, even though the guilt always comes in strong after these thoughts like a tsunami. How I'm a privileged asshole, a hypocrite who preaches ethics but is violating these very moral obligations every single day by thinking about her, by kissing her, by being with her.

Millie's eyes cloud with tears by the time I'm finished, and she quickly blinks them away.

"You're the farthest thing from selfish, Ryland. The fact you've leashed down all your thoughts and desires because of what you think is good for the people you love tells me what a selfless person you are." She reaches out and swipes her thumbs on my cheeks.

I belatedly realize tears have escaped from my eyes.

It feels cathartic, baring my soul to hers, letting her see the darkness inside me.

And she hasn't shied away.

"I did the same thing to Adrian, Dad, and my friends for the longest time. Hiding myself. Pretending to be happy and fine in front of them when I was angry at the world deep inside, when I wanted nothing more than to lash out and tell them I was tired of being their anchor or being positive." She presses a kiss on my lips.

"It turns out my friends didn't abandon me when I cried in front of them and I never needed to pretend all along. I still make the mistake and hide inside my shell sometimes, and I think you're the same. After all, it's been years of training and practice to be the caregiver you are."

Her voice is urgent and ardent, her blue eyes flashing with ferocity. "But you know what? Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes, when we think we must do something and there's no way out, there's usually a hidden window or door that's cracked open, but we don't notice until we let other people in, and they lead us out of the chaos."

She adds, "Have you considered, I might be willing to give up my dreams for you? Or maybe my dreams had changed after I met you? Or perhaps I'm okay with not being married as long as I can stay by your side?"

My breath stalls in my throat, and I grip her hands tightly in mine. "Millie, you can't give up your dreams for me. I've seen this happen to my mom. The resentment that builds afterward. You deserve a man who can offer you his name and put you as the top priority. I can't let you sell yourself short. You deserve so much more than me."

She holds up the key around her neck, the jewels sparkling under the dim light. "You gave me the key to your heart. Trust me with it. Trust that there's also a hidden key to unlock your problems. There has to be. And the people who love you will want to find it for you. And they will."

She looks up. "We will find it together because if we can't solve it today, we always have tomorrow."

A pressure forms in my chest and spreads like wildfire as I take in this fighter in front of me. The rarest of songbirds. The most powerful of hunters.

And she loves me.

"Tomorrow," I echo her words, my voice hoarse. Tomorrow.

Wordlessly, I cradle her face with my hands and seal my lips to hers, needing to kiss her, to love her with every suction, every lave of my tongue.

The words finally find me.

"I love you, Millie. I love you so damn much."