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The apple orchard is in full bloom.

It’s a warm, sunny spring day, and I have to take advantage of it. I race to finish my work for the day so I can spend the afternoon outside sketching new designs. Sunlight falls dappled through the branches. They’ve exploded in the past week with white flowers that speak of the coming summer.

I’m lying on a large picnic blanket I found in one of the estate’s many cupboards. Pink flowers dot the fresh grass, and I think maybethisis my happy place.

I draw a curved line with my pencil, the sweep of a bow down the back of a ballgown. A single petal falls and lands next to the shape.

Of all the places in the world for my heart to feel at peace, it has to be Fairhaven. West’s home. What I first saw as a prison has become a refuge.

Summer must be gorgeous here.

But I can’t stay here. Maybe I can stay in New York, though, after the fashion show. Now that we know who the stalker is, there should be more freedom. Fewer guards. Ben Wilde is invited to the Spring Ball on Saturday, and we’re planning to confront him then.

And after that…

It all ends.

I sketch a flowing train and pause to look up at the deep blue ocean that stretches out in front of me. A few white sails dot the distance. I want to swim in it before I leave.

I want so many things.

It’s like all the years of trying to fit into what others want from me have built up a dam, and now that dam has burst, and I’m an endless swirl of needs. Of desires and wants and thoughts and ideas. Maybe this is how it feels to live life for me.

To be my true self.

A shadow falls over my sketchbook. I look up and find West standing beside the picnic blanket. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear his steps in the soft spring grass.

“Hey.” I shade my eyes. He’s in a pair of dark pants, a white shirt. “Come to do your work out here?”

“I just got a call that you’re looking into getting back into your apartment. The one in town.”

I push up to sitting. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

I pat the space next to me on the large blanket.

He sits down, long legs taking up the rest of the blanket. “You’re leaving Fairhaven?”

“Not now, no. But eventually I am.”

“Why?”

“Why? You know why. We know who the stalker is. We’re handling him at your ball… and I won’t need your protection anymore. You don’t really need me to keep your mom’s matchmaking at bay, either. You’ll have a wife by September.”

His eyebrows draw together. “You can live here for as long as you want to.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“I do.” His jaw works. “The other night. In the library. What you told me…”

A blush races up my cheeks. I was frustrated and angry, and I wanted to prove a point. It had felt powerful, to wreck him the way he’s been wrecking me. “Yeah?”

“You were right,” he says. “About all of it. You were right. I’ve been a hypocrite. And I’m jealous at the thought of any man but me touching you.” He reaches out and slides a finger under the strap of my dress. “I imagine you with someone else… and it feels like I’m dying. Like I can’t breathe. I thought it would fade, but it hasn’t, trouble. It’s going stronger every single day.”

“Why have you been holding back, then?”

“Holding back,” he mutters. “It doesn’t feel like I have. I never want you to regret it if you sleep with me. I couldn’t fucking bear it if you did.”