Page 36

? ? ?

I furrowed my brows, feeling the softest touch graze my cheek.

It was gentle, almost featherlight.

Then, her voice echoed around me.

"Liberty."

I furrowed my brows deeper, humming lazily as I tried to nuzzle under any pillow.

The soft-touch ran across my cheek, stroking my hair away from my face.

"Liberty," her voice rang through my head again.

I forced my heavy eyes open, groaning when a harsh ache shot through my head.

Fuck.

I brought my hand to my head, letting out a long deep breath.

"I know, darling. You drank a lot last night," I heard her familiar voice, making me immediately glance over.

There she was.

Monroe stood by my bed, her brown hair tied into a low bun compared to last night.

She wore a deep burgundy red blouse with black dress pants—dressed in an entirely different outfit.

It's already morning?

What the fuck?

"How did you get in?" I asked with furrowed brows, my voice scratchy and weak as I forcefully cleared my throat.

"I took your keys," she briefly explained, grabbing the glass of water from my nightstand, "I also had them provide another key fob for future instances like this."

I blinked a few times, processing the fact that she casually has a key to my place now.

I don't even care, but damn, let me at least see her place for once.

"And when will I get to see your place?" I purposely asked, groaning as I tried to lift my head up.

"I attempted to offer last night," Monroe just had to say, sliding her hand behind my neck to help me lay up a little better.

Then she brought the glass of water to my lips for a brief sip.

"It's too early for this," I immediately determined, knowing she was here specifically to discuss last night.

I briefly remember her saying that.

And also—

Oh fuck.

No-no.

The Kaia thing.

Why did I say that?

What the fuck possessed me to say that?

Ugh and then the Ro-Ro thing.

Sienna—I brought her up too.

I even tried to have sex with Monroe.

"I'm so embarrassed, stop," I groaned, leaning away from the glass as I tried to hide myself back under the covers.

"I'm going to assume you remember last night," Monroe observed, setting the glass down on my nightstand with a soft clink.

"I don't want to remember it—take it away," I mumbled, staying hidden under the covers.

"Liberty," she calmly spoke, gently guiding the covers away from my face, "You have nothing to be embarrassed about."

I narrowed my eyes at her, "I know internally, you're judging. Be honest, Monroe," I pointed out.

"What happened to Ro Ro?" she asked, her lips twitching up when I groaned dramatically.

"I'm going back to sleep," I suddenly determined, noticing it was still dark outside.

That means it's definitely too early.

I might've been home before twelve, but I need my ten hours of sleep after drinking like that.

"We're discussing what happened yesterday," Monroe said, sitting on the side of my bed in front of me.

And I already knew this was about to be a serious conversation.

So I internally determined that I would agree to whatever just to speed it up.

"What happened with your mother?" Monroe asked, her tone softened between us.

I let out a deep sigh, now recalling everything that happened at the restaurant with her.

It made my headache worse.

"Basically," I started, trying to work through my tired brain, "She made our dinner into a publicity stunt. I told her that she ruined her relationship with her daughter and only lifeline to her husband—that I did nothing to be treated this way, and that she's the one sleeping in the house he died in," I briefly overviewed the conversation, not wanting to get into it fully again. Not right now at least, "I also said she wasn't a wife or mother."

Monroe nodded once, briefly processing my words.

"You vocalized how you feel and stood up for yourself," she determined, gently grabbing one of my hands, "I'm proud of you, Liberty."

I shook my head, feeling undeserving of her praise, "No, it was mean. I thought I wanted to hurt her feelings, I thought I wanted her to leave. But now she's gone and I can't take those words back and—" I drew in a deep breath, furrowing my brows as I glanced down at my lap.

Monroe instinctively guided me closer to her by my hand—wrapping her arms around my waist as she pulled me into a hug.

Annoying tears burned in my eyes, sniffling as I buried my face in her chest.

I also felt really tired so that didn't help the urge to cry.

"Sometimes the truth can be hard, Liberty," she softly whispered, gently playing with my hair, "But the important thing is that you spoke your truth."

"But she told me she would leave me alone. She left me," I whispered broken, squeezing my eyes shut when my head ached even worse.

Fuck this hangover.

"People often get defensive when you're spot on. They run from self-awareness," Monroe briefly explained, now caressing her hand against my back, "Imagine I tell you you're horrible at school and know nothing about your major. How would you react?"

I sniffled, "I wouldn't?" I hesitantly said, growing confused, "I mean, like I know my major and I'm good at school."

"Exactly, Liberty," Monroe murmured, running her hand under my t-shirt to trail up my bare back, "You're confident that what I accused you of is not true. There's no reason to argue or get defensive," she briefly explained as I clung to her words, trying to process this better, "When someone knows something is true, internally, they get defensive. They might even run from the problem."

I suddenly pulled away from her chest in realization, now fully comprehending her deep words.

"So she reacted that way because internally she knows it's true?" I asked, staring into her blue eyes.

"Yes, darling," Monroe softly whispered, "You're such a smart girl."

I shook my head, "You technically explained it," I said, shaking off her compliment.

"Most people aren't complex enough to understand what I explain," Monroe countered, making my lips twitch up in an annoying smile.

"Well, thank you, I guess," I whispered awkwardly, glancing away from her stare, "I really wish you could've been there for me yesterday."

Monroe reached up to gently cup my cheek, diverting my attention back to her, "Me too, darling," she said, her words nothing but genuine, "You were hurt and felt abandoned. Everything in the moment didn't help."

I nodded silently, feeling relieved by her understanding.

I wondered if now was a good time to bring up her meeting that I interrupted.

Or if she would still refuse to tell me.

This was a good conversation so far—maybe I should just let it go.

"Your mother left because of her own issues. There was nothing you could've done," Monroe spoke again, snapping into my thought, "You held up a mirror and she ran. She chose to hide from the reality you gave her."

Her words hit me deeper, staring into her eyes as I truly let myself believe that it wasn't my fault.

That my words were hurtful but necessary.

She needed to hear them.

Her running away wasn't my problem.

"This wasn't your fault, Liberty," Monroe said, gently running her thumb under my eye damp with tears, "Repeat it back to me."

"This wasn't my fault," I whispered, unconsciously relaxing my shoulders as I let out a deep sigh, "It wasn't my fault," I repeated again, feeling so relieved by the words.

"It wasn't," Monroe said in agreement.

I let out another deep sigh, nodding a few times as I let myself truly feel relieved by all of this.

It felt like I might be able to let it all go now.

"Now let's discuss the meeting you walked in on," Monroe suddenly said, immediately making me shake my head.

"I know you don't want to tell me. It's fine, you don't have to explain," I whispered, glancing away from her stare.

"I consult for the government on specialized cases," Monroe suddenly said, making my eyes snap back to hers, my lips parting slightly at her words.

It was unconscious—my surprise, also my admiration.

She had to be really good at her job for them to acquire her skills.

But god, she works for the government?

What does that even mean fully?

First the old money background... and now this?

There's so much more about her.

It's to the point where it feels like I'll never truly know her.

"I can't disclose the specifics," she clarified, her stare not once wavering from mine as she grasped my reaction.

I raised a brow, "Monroe, you work with the government on... something, and I just heard you in a meeting that sounded nothing like therapy," I pointed out, still wanting to know what the fuck was going on.

She pursed her lips together, slowly exhaling through her nose, "It's not therapy, but it's not what you're imagining either," she tried to explain, tiptoeing around the truth behind her work.

"Really? Because I'm imagining a lot," I said, eyeing her face as she remained silent.

She didn't bother to counter my words, staring down at me as she visibly calculated what she would say next.

Almost like she was trying to decide how far she was willing to go.

"I help them extract information," Monroe suddenly said, shaking her head as she glanced away from me, "That's all I can tell you, Liberty."

I blinked a few times, letting out a deep sigh as I tried my best to process this.

Extracting information?

All I can assume is it has something to do with psychological practices.

She's well-versed in reading people or getting them to comply with what she wants.

She's also terrifying sometimes, but I assume the government has other ways of handling the pain aspect.

Still, it's so weird to imagine her handling something like this.

"Wait so do you work for my mother?" I asked with furrowed brows, severely disliking the idea of all this.

Monroe pursed her lips, "Above her, technically," she clarified, tilting her head slightly, "I've never worked with her personally. I meet with people in offices much higher than hers."

I furrowed my brows, knowing she was governor so like that's pretty high?

Right?

Well, no because Monroe works with higher officials.

Maybe she means the CIA or FBI?

An organization higher than what my mother works for.

"So like... you have connections?" I suddenly asked.

And I knew now was far from the time, but all I could suddenly think about were those charges.

The ones I never got dropped for Kaia.

It's probably the last thing I should bring up... especially after last night.

But I owe it to Kaia—I said I would find a way to get them dropped.

Maybe Monroe's my way.

"What do you need, Liberty?" Monroe said, her blue eyes openly trailing my face.

I blinked a few times, "Nothing, I was just curious," I unconsciously lied, feeling beyond scared to actually ask her for this favor.

I don't know how she would react.

"No one asks about connections unless they need something," Monroe observed, tilting her head slightly as she held my stare, "Tell me what's going on darling."

I pursed my lips, unconsciously glancing away from her stare, "Well, uh you know I originally got into therapy because of something that happened at a club—which doesn't matter. But there were sort of some charges that came with it," I tried my best to explain.

"Oh, Liberty," Monroe said, her amused tone immediately making me glance back to her, "Darling that's nothing. I'll make a call today to have them dropped."

I nodded slowly, processing how normal this was to her.

This was genuinely something that came easy.

And I knew that wasn't from the work she did with the government.

It was her old money background.

I always assumed they quietly disposed of any problems.

Even illegal ones.

My own mother handled stuff like that for me and we're definitely not old money, so I knew the extent of Monroe's secrets ran deeper.

"My mother sort of um cleared my charges," I tried my best to explain, scared to even whisper Kaia's name right now.

Monroe tilted her head, "Is this Zion?" she asked, recalling my other friend.

Just the wrong one.

"Kaia... actually," I hesitantly said, quickly reaching for her hand to hold in mine, "But like you don't have to do it. I just knew I had to ask since she was only defending me."

"Defending you?" Monroe asked, zoning in on only one part of my statement, "Did someone hurt you, Liberty?"

I quickly shook my head, "No uh, not exactly," I said, recalling the stitches that one of them needed after the damage I had done, "Just forget I said anything," I quickly whispered.

Monroe remained silent for a moment, her eyes trailing my face in a way that made me feel nervous.

Her jaw looked tighter, but I couldn't tell if I was hallucinating it.

Is she irritated or calm right now?

"No, I'll handle it for you," Monroe suddenly said, making my lips immediately spread into a smile.

"Really?" I asked, smiling wider when she nodded once, "Thank you so much," I whispered, reaching for her waist and tugging her closer for a hug.

"You're welcome sweetheart," she murmured, hugging me back as I shifted my legs from under me to wrap around her waist.

"This means the world to me. You have no idea," I breathed out, nuzzling into her chest with a wide grin, "It all felt like my fault and I really wanted to fix it."

"I'll get it taken care of today," she assured me, keeping her arms wrapped around me as I hugged her tighter.

I can't wait to tell Kaia that I found a way to drop her charges.

She's going to be so happy.

I'm going to tell her as soon as I get confirmation that the charges are dropped, and she has a clean record again.

That might just make her month.

"We'll discuss your punishment this evening," Monroe calmly determined.

I froze slightly, processing her serious words.

"Punishment?" I whispered hesitantly, blinking a few times as I came to terms with what last night would cost me now.

Probably my sanity.

"Yes, darling," she whispered so softly that it made chills run down my spine, "You were not very good for me last night."

I nodded a few times, "And I'm really sorry," I whispered, pulling away from the hug to meet her stare, "I'm so sorry mommy," I added in a pleading tone, wrapping my arms around her neck.

I'm hoping with enough begging I can get out of this one.

She always likes it when I beg.

"I know you are sweetheart," Monroe said as she held my stare, sending relief through me, "But we show, not tell," she murmured, caressing her hand up my back.

My heart pounded heavier in my chest as I stared into her eyes, trying to figure out where her head was.

What punishment she was planning to give me.

I can't do eight orgasms again.

"I need to head into the office soon, darling," Monroe softly whispered, leaning away from me slightly.

I frowned dramatically, suddenly not wanting her to leave.

Even if the punishment thing terrified me.

"Can you at least stay with me until I fall back asleep?" I asked her, staring up into her eyes with a pleading look, "Please?" I purposely added, softening the word for her.

Monroe briefly glanced down at the thin elegant watch on her wrist, drawing in a slow breath.

Then she nodded once, glancing up to meet my stare.

"That should work darling," she said, making a smile grow on my lips immediately.

"Thank you-thank you," I said excitedly as she guided my legs to unravel from around her, standing from my bed and walking over to my windows.

"You're welcome," she murmured, closing my black-out curtains for me, "Lay down and get comfortable."

I nodded immediately, even if I heard her words in a more... inappropriate way.

But I quickly fought my thoughts, climbing under the covers to lay my pounding head down.

The headache was still there, but it was doable.

I genuinely felt better after having this conversation with her.

I smiled as I watched her approach my bedside, reaching down to tuck the blankets in around me.

Then she sat on the bed beside me, reaching her hand up to gently caress the stray hairs away from my face as I laid on my side facing her.

My eyes fluttered closed when she cupped my cheek, gently caressing her hand against my skin as I let out a soft sigh.

"My sweet girl," she whispered, making everything burn around me, "You're very beautiful in the mornings."

I felt my lips twitch up at her compliment, my face growing warm, "Thank you," I whispered, weirdly feeling shy as I kept my eyes closed.

Monroe hummed softly in response, caressing my cheek as I relaxed further into my bed.

"Don't forget your session later today," she reminded me.

And honestly, I definitely would've forgotten it was today.

It was moved from Monday to today, so I was a little off.

Even if it was a day difference, it still wasn't my schedule.

"Okay," I said, my tone soft as I made a mental note of the evening session.

But all I could feel was tired right now.

I felt so warm with the covers bundled around me, her touch soothing me, as the silence around us remained calm and still.

With how much my head hurt and the heaviness weighing down my eyes—it wasn't hard to drift off.

If anything, I tried to fight my sleep for as long as possible, wanting Monroe to stay for as long as possible.

But it was no use.

Not with her gentle caresses against my face, lulling me to sleep.

All I could do was sink deeper and deeper into the mattress, falling victim to my deep sleep.

Her soft touch and familiar sweet scent lingered in my dreams as I fell asleep, thinking only of Monroe.

? ? ?

I woke up a few hours later, but when I read the time was only eleven and my head pulsed with the worst ache—I decided to go back to sleep.

I didn't have anything to do, so sleeping all day wasn't an issue for me.

Especially with this terrible fucking hangover that I'm trying to work off.

Even when I woke up at two, I wasn't feeling it.

I felt even worse since I somehow managed to get too much sleep.

Now I just felt groggy.

But I made myself some coffee to help, and Monroe even DoorDashed me some food since she insisted that I needed something greasy on my stomach to absorb the alcohol.

I thought it would make me more nauseous but the burger and fries from Five Guys were fucking incredible.

I devoured a double cheeseburger and a regular fry with ease.

But maybe that's because I hadn't eaten all day and by the time it got delivered it was almost three.

After I ate, I scrolled on TikTok, zoning out of the random movie I put on earlier.

I always needed something playing on the TV when I was eating, but after, I normally got bored.

Before I knew it, it was almost four, which meant I had to rush to get ready and haul ass to therapy.

I don't know how I managed to run late while actively doing nothing.

Or maybe I procrastinated...

I always convinced myself I could get ready in a short amount of time—when that is hardly the reality.

I wanted to put more effort into my outfit, but I didn't have the time, so I settled on black flared leggings with a matching smooth long-sleeve.

It was a set so it matched perfectly.

The waistband of the leggings folded over too which I found super cute.

Next, I worked on my hair as quickly as I could.

The only way I could speed through that was if I refreshed my curls and wore them down.

They were a little looser today, so the curls fell a little lower, looking more relaxed.

It was a cute look honestly.

And it was only four-thirty by the time I finished.

That gave me fifteen minutes for skincare and maybe to get there earlier instead.

I wasn't in the mood to do makeup anyway so it didn't matter.

My attention suddenly shifted when I noticed my phone illuminate with a call—

From Monroe.

I smiled at the contact name, still getting used to it.

Doc was cute when she was my therapist but I like this nickname so much better.

"Hi," I spoke as soon as I answered the call, "I'm almost done getting ready now," I added, just in case she was calling to tell me not to be late.

"I moved your appointment," her smooth voice filtered from my phone speakers.

It just sounded much more neutral to me.

Almost blank?

"Again?" I asked in confusion, wondering why she was rescheduling so last minute, "I can come now. It's all good."

"It's not about that," Monroe said, making me grow even more confused, "We're doing dinner instead."

I furrowed my brows, "We can't do therapy and dinner?" I asked, even if I didn't necessarily care about therapy.

But I did just rush to make it on time.

And now she's acting weird.

"Only dinner. My house, Liberty," she said, making something inside my stomach shoot up.

"Your house?" I repeated back to her, my words full of hesitation.

"I'll send you the address," Monroe said, disregarding my question, "Be there by six and pack an overnight bag."

I blinked a few times, feeling an unconscious smile grow on my lips, "Yeah, okay," I whispered, processing that this was actually happening.

Until I remembered that we had a punishment to discuss.

But I still get to see her house, so it's a win-win for me honestly.

"And Kaia's charges were already dropped," she told me, making my brows immediately furrow together, "Your mother dropped them."

"She did?" I unconsciously asked, knowing she specifically said she wouldn't drop Kaia's charges.

But maybe she did in the end?

She's normally big on what she says, but maybe she just let this one go.

I'll ask Kaia about it later.

"Sorry, I didn't realize they were already dropped," I suddenly said, now feeling bad for making Monroe go out of her way to handle that.

"I'll see you at six," was all she said.

Then the call ended.

I remained stuck in place for a long moment, processing the very short phone call we just had.

That conversation felt like the worst one we've had.

Did work piss her off or something?

Maybe a long day?

Because I know she didn't just hang up on me like that.

Shitty day or not, I don't like that.

I rolled my eyes to myself, glancing at the mirror as I focused back on my skincare.

It was already close to five and now I had an overnight bag to pack too.

And I had to drive over to her house.

The traffic will be insane at this hour too.

I quickly rushed to finish my skincare with these stressful thoughts in mind—working on my overnight bag next.

At this point, I just began throwing shit into my duffel bag.

If I needed it, then it was in there.

And not neatly.

Then I quickly slid on a pair of sneakers, applying my fragrance oil, and grabbing my duffel bag.

I rushed out of my apartment, taking the elevator down to my car.

That's when I finally checked my phone again, noticing Monroe sent over the address.

Pioneer Square was only fifteen minutes away so I was early.

But I knew downtown traffic would ruin that.

Especially since Pioneer Square is also downtown, so the traffic will be bad over there too.

It would be different if I was leaving downtown.

At least it would thin out on the way.

I ended up being twenty minutes late by the time I made it to the address, especially as I unconsciously took in my surroundings.

Pioneer Square was known for its historic charm.

Brick buildings, ivy-covered facades, and a certain old-money feel in some areas.

Monroe's street stood out.

Tucked away like it didn't want to be found.

The houses weren't just expensive—they were untouchable.

The kind of wealth that didn't try too hard because it didn't have to.

Gated estates with towering hedges, pristine stone exteriors, and security cameras subtly tucked into the architecture.

No cars lined the curbs, no signs of life outside.

Just wealth, sitting there like it had nothing to prove.

And Monroe's house fit right in.

Three stories of French-inspired architecture, pale stone against black ironwork.

The large arched windows glowed, spilling light onto the pristine driveway as the sun calmly set on the horizon.

It was the kind of house that made you feel small just standing in front of it.

I reached for my phone as soon as I halted the car at the black iron gate, texting her that I was here.

It was brief, nothing other than the word here after the attitude she gave me over an hour ago.

Not even a second after the text delivered through, the gate buzzed, unlocking with a smooth, mechanical hum.

I hesitantly drove forward, parking in front of the garage where I knew her Bentley sat.

Then I turned my car off, grabbing my duffel bag before opening my door.

I stepped out onto the light pavement, noticing the bricks under my feet formed a subtle design.

It was a small detail that added to the house—which looked almost unnaturally clean.

The hedges lining either side of the short stairs to the front door were trimmed with a precision that made me question the upkeep of it all.

She had to have teams of people hired to handle this kind of stuff.

I glanced away from the hedges, stepping past the last stone step as I approached the front door.

It was arched, and so tall that you had to tilt your head back slightly to see the top.

The glossy black paint reflected the last bit of sunlight, shadows shifting over the French embroidery carved into it.

I didn't even get a chance to reach up and use the heavy door knocker built into the door.

It had already been pulled open—

Revealing Monroe.

She was still in her work clothes from earlier.

Wearing the same dark burgundy blouse with the sleeves now rolled up to her elbows and her black dress pants.

Instead of heels, she wore furry black Prada slippers—probably the most casual shoe I had seen on her besides loafers.

"I like your house," I spoke first, awkwardly standing at the doorway.

I just felt weirdly hesitant to walk inside on my own—like I should have permission first or something.

"Thank you," Monroe said, motioning her head at me.

Permission.

That's permission.

I drew in a deep breath as I stepped forward, walking past the threshold into her house.