COMPROMISES.

That was the word I liked to use as I assessed my plight.

I hadn’t given in to every mandate nor had I blazed my own way. Five days of compromises. Five days of avoidance. And most of all, five days without any contact from Nox.

With each passing day, I’d begun to wonder if he’d given up on me. Did he think about me as I thought about him? Had he heard what I’d done, the compromises I’d made?

I worked to block out the thoughts of him—the sound of his voice, touch of his hands, warmth of his lips, and even the aroma of his skin. It was difficult during the day, but at least then I had distractions. At night it was impossible.

Though I’d spent each night after the first alone behind my self-locked bedroom door, in my mind Nox was with me. My hands would roam, recalling his mastery. Moans fought to tumble from my lips as my fingers became a sad substitute in mimicking his skills. There were even times when my body would quake as I imagined his blue gaze upon my exposed core, watching and approving as his deep voice directed, pushing me higher over the brink.

But alas, the fantasy always faded.

Reality left me cold, lonely, and faced with the stark reality of his absence. A warm washcloth did little when compared to the heat of his tongue, lapping the essence from my moist thighs.

I pushed the thoughts away and inhaled the warm afternoon breeze. I’d found one of the smaller courtyards at Magnolia Woods to be a nice, quiet place to catch up on my studies. Isolated and remote, it was reserved for family and not frequented by clients. As with most afternoons, I was alone as small wisps of auburn fluttered about my face and I concentrated on my new tablet.

It was part of the compromise Alton and I’d made. After our meeting with Dr. Miller, I was granted access to Columbia and all the accounts associated with my schooling: email, class groups, and lecture videos. I’d spoken with Dr. Renaud and received clearance to complete this semester’s studies via Internet. I wasn’t sure if her concession was based on protocol or if she was tired of dealing with my new drama. Either way, I was happy to finish my semester.

While Alton mentioned that he’d paid for the semester, I reminded him that the second semester was paid as well. When he responded that there was still time to drop those classes, instead of arguing, I changed the subject. It was my new plan: denial. I didn’t need to answer negatively or affirmatively as long as I avoided precarious topics.

Completing my classes was acceptable to everyone involved as long as I also attended to my new responsibilities. The one I’d asked for—the household staff—had taken care of itself.

One phone call and I had Jane reinstated at Montague Manor. Though Suzanna had terminated her employment, Jane hadn’t actually left, claiming she needed time to find housing. After all, she’d lived at the manor for over twenty years. It wasn’t easy losing a job and a house. Despite Suzanna’s wishes, Jane didn’t lose either.

As it turned out, Jane had helped my mother with the staff. She knew everyone and knew each one’s responsibilities. Other than the need for my approval, the job was hers. I promoted her to house manager, giving her not only the title, but also a nice increase in salary. After all she had endured over the years, there wasn’t enough money in the Montague accounts to repay her. Nevertheless, I intended to give it a try.

Another of my responsibilities was currently sitting on the terrace table beside my tablet’s keyboard. I couldn’t type with the ostentatious rock on my finger. The damn thing would swivel and type its own notes if I wasn’t careful. I dutifully wore it when in the right company. That primarily meant Alton, Bryce, or Suzanna. Other than in their presence, it often found its way into my pocket.

Though I negotiated for a car, it hadn’t happened. I reasoned that it had been only four days since our discussions. Without a car of my own, my getting to and from Magnolia Woods was dependent upon drivers and came with an extra car of security.

Each visit to Magnolia Woods seemed harder than the last. I held tight to the hope that once Momma was through the worst of her detox, she would be able to be weaned off the sedative. With my new tablet, I’d thoroughly researched the medications that Dr. Miller mentioned. I’d hoped to find something to indicate that it was all a farce, but nothing gave me that hope.

The hours spent at the facility made me both sad and happy. Sad at her condition: her mumblings didn’t make sense. Dr. Miller had said that nightmares could accompany the detox, and yet I had the feeling she was content, perhaps even happy, in whatever world she was living. The positive side to that was she didn’t need to be restrained. The first day Bryce had brought me here, her wrists were secured to the bedrails.

If the medication kept that from happening, I couldn’t argue.

The courtyard was a break in the mundane, a time for me to breathe fresh air while Momma continued to rest. I found solace in being away from Montague Manor. It wasn’t as if I had many options, at least not ones approved by Alton, but Magnolia Woods was one.

Though I wore the ring, I continued to shut Bryce down. It had been less than a week. I’d spent four years avoiding sex with him, and yet he was more determined than ever.

His cheek was mostly healed—which was good, considering our engagement pictures were scheduled for Thursday afternoon, Suzanna and I had an appointment with an exclusive wedding planner on Friday, and the grand announcement party was on Saturday. It was the stair-steps of shame: smaller at first and increasingly difficult.

I could smile for a camera and perhaps feign excitement for the plans, but an entire evening of entertaining seemed too much.

“Miss Collins?”

I turned toward a familiar voice and all at once, my sadness washed away in a flood of relief. “Isaac!”

“Shhh,” he prompted, looking from side to side.

“How?” I followed his darting eyes and lowered my voice to a whisper. “How are you here?”

He offered me his hand. “James Vitoni, ma’am.”

I took his hand. Had I ever known his last name? Where did Isaac come from? “Mr. Vitoni?”

“My father is a patient here. I happened to notice you sitting alone and wondered if you could use company.”

“Your father?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I’ve been out of the country off and on for the last three years and just recently learned of his dementia. It’s sad. He doesn’t recognize me.”

“Because…?” I asked in a whisper.

Isaac lifted one brow with a slight grin. “He’s never seen me before in his life. It was the best we could do.”

My chest filled with the warm breeze as my cheeks rose. “My security is outside. They don’t come in with me.”

“I’ve been watching.”

We kept our voices low as we spoke.

I swallowed. “Does this mean he hasn’t given up?”

Isaac’s grin became a full smile. “Ma’am, have you ever met my boss?”

“Yes, I’m glad to say I have.”

“Giving up is not in his repertoire.”

“I’ve always been a fan of persistence.”

“Then let me be the first to say, you’ve found the right man.”

Isaac’s gaze left me and went to the tablet and then beside the tablet.

I reached for the ring and standing slightly shoved it into the depths of a pocket. “I-I need to explain.”

Isaac shook his head. “He knows.”

The newfound relief evaporated. “He knows? How? It hasn’t been announced.”

“He knows about the will. He knows about your mother. He wants to hear it all from you.”

Tears teetered on my lower lids as I imagined his thoughts. “Tell him I didn’t want…”

Isaac touched my hand. “Miss Collins, please don’t. We can’t bring attention to our conversation. I’ve been watching your security. They don’t always stay outside. Periodically they enter the facility.”

“They do?”

“Yes, ma’am, you’re being watched, and I should get back to my father.”

“Are you really visiting someone?”

“Yes, but like I said, he doesn’t remember me.”

I shook my head. “Isaac, I can’t talk to him. Alton will know, but tell him I love him. Tell him I’m working on a plan. Getting my mother well is the first step.”

“James,” Isaac corrected. “I’ll tell him.” His voice rose, “But like I said, he isn’t remembering. It’s very sad.”

Before I could question, we both turned to see one of Alton’s men entering the courtyard.

“Miss Collins, is there anything I can get you?”

I lifted my chin. This was one of the drivers. I wasn’t even trying to learn their names. It wouldn’t matter. They rotated multiple times a day. I’d decided it was a ploy to keep me from getting close to anyone. “Time,” I replied. “I’m not ready to go back.”

“Miss, Mr. Fitzgerald phoned. You’re expected back to the manor in an hour.”

“Then I still have twenty minutes.” I turned back to Isaac and extended my hand. “Mr. Vitoni, nice to meet you. I do hope your father gets better because memories can be a great solace.”

“Yes. It was nice to meet you, too. Perhaps we’ll see one another again.”

“I hope so,” I said, gathering my tablet and book and placing them in a backpack. Turning to Alton’s man, I said, “I’ll be in my mother’s room for the next twenty minutes. There’s no need to follow me or come back inside. I’ll be out to the car in time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the driver said.

Just as I was about to enter my mother’s room, I turned back toward footsteps.

“Miss Collins, I believe you left this on the table.”

Isaac extended a small light-pink pouch toward me. Before I could protest, he added, “I believe it fell out of your backpack. I’d hate for you to lose it or have it fall into the wrong hands.” He tilted his head toward the right. Above his head was a translucent black nub, obviously a camera.

“Thank you, Mr. Vitoni.”

I slipped the pouch into my backpack and joined my mother. A few minutes before I was required to be outside, I slipped into the public bathroom near the front of the facility. I’d already noticed the cameras in my mother’s room. I supposed that they could be justified. These were patients that required monitoring. I’d even noticed one in her private bath.

Closing the door on a stall and assuring my privacy, I opened my backpack and removed the pink pouch. It was small, about the size of an eyeglass case. Slowly I unsnapped the front. Inside was a small cell phone and charger.

The small stall melted around me as tears blurred my vision. During the months Nox and I had dated, he’d showered me with many gifts, but nothing filled me with the joy and relief of the small disposable phone. I couldn’t call now. It wasn’t safe. But I would—I could. I finally could.

With shaking hands, I stuffed the phone and charger deep into an inside pocket of the backpack and then filled the pouch with lipstick and lip gloss. Tossing it back into the backpack, I worked to suppress the first real smile on my face in nearly a week and made my way out to the waiting car.