Page 119 of Hawthorne

His hips jerk forward at the same moment he grunts, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” I answer, basking in the feeling of him inside me.

He speeds up his movements, finally letting go of the control he was holding onto.

Vincent swears under his breath and finally lets go of the remnants of control. It drives me closer to the edge myself, lost in the impossible promises of love we’re sharing through our words and sweaty bodies.

It takes nothing to surrender to him and his bewitching words, trying to keep in mind the fleeting thought that I need to tell him the truth soon or this will be nothing but temporary.

36

Vincent Hawthorne

After last night, I am the happiest I’ve ever felt. There is—honestly—little that could sour my mood. The world can be entirely against us, but I’ve chosen her, and that won’t change.

I love her.

I had some suspicions that it was reciprocated because of the way she always melted into my touch and gave in to my whims. Still, it was never as impactful as hearing it from her mouth. My heart felt like it was going to burst. That soaring feeling everyone brags about has finally caught up with me for the first time.

A short, curt knock sounds from the door just a second short of it being open, without given permission.

“We have matters to discuss,” my mother informs me while entering my office as if she owns it.

Bad habits die hard.

Mother and I had breakfast together earlier this morning. With Camilla still asleep, I had Mariah take care of it since mymother insisted on being here bright and early to get everything started for her birthday party.

Her expression seems determined, and her edges are set hard, almost making her look like she is made of stone. She has kept the same poker face ever since she entered manor.

I don’t know what her goal is today, but whatever it is, it won’t make me change my mind. Even if it’s her birthday today, I won’t budge.

A decision has been made.

There is only one way to be with Camilla: stepping down from my title and living a normal, humble life with her. Edgar can have it all instead.

It’s not like any of this is what I wanted or asked for. But I wanther. And all I ask for is to have her, to be happy with her.

Camilla has no idea, though. She’d probably feel guilty and try to talk me out of it, thinking I’d be giving up too much for someone who doesn’t deserve it.

She deserves it and more. There isn’t any wealth in this world that’d make me not choose her. After confessing our feelings to each other, there isn’t any other possible way.

Love. I love her, and she didn't even hesitate to tell me she loved me back.

To live in a world where I can’t freely be with her, touch her, or love her is a form of torture and constant agony.

“Still not following protocol to enter my office?” I ask rhetorically.

My eyes stay focused on the paperwork I am reading and signing. To give my mother full attention is letting her know she holds power over someone—me—when she doesn’t.Not anymore.And with the behaviour she has been showing for the last half a year, she doesn’t deserve my attention. She barely deserves my respect.

Still, it’s her birthday today, and I am not that cruel. I’ll tell her the news tomorrow.

“My informant has told me the child died.”

My hand freezes, and I finally look at her. “Child?”

“The king’s son. A stillborn.” A sick smile forces its way on her face.

A child perished, and she is glad?

---