Page 334 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 1

I laughed to myself as I ran my finger along the spine of a Boy Scouts handbook. For the life of me, I couldn't quite picture him in one of those cute little uniforms. Actually, I couldn't really picture him as a child at all. And there hadn't been any pictures of him on the walls downstairs like I'd hope there'd be either. I turned away from the bookshelf and saw a picture tucked into the side of the mirror above his dresser. But it wasn't of him. I walked over, staring at the girl in the picture, and pulled it off the mirror.

I didn't need to turn it over to know who it was. It had to be his high school girlfriend, Rachel. Young love. It was something I knew nothing about. James was my first real boyfriend. I guess I was young when I first met him. I didn't feel young anymore though. And compared to the girl in the picture, I doubted I looked young either.

James must have kept her picture hanging here all through college too. The only reason that they had broken up was because his parents thought she wasn't suitable for him. If they had liked her, would they still be together? Would he have had a happier life?

When I had first met Isabella, she had told me I wasn't his type. Rachel had brunette hair like Isabella and brown eyes like her too. Isabella and James weren't compatible, but he must have been attracted to her if she looked like Rachel. Maybe they really were his type. Which meant I wasn't.

I turned the picture over. There was just one line scrawled on the back: Forever and always.

I had the eerie feeling that Rachel had given this to him after they had broken up. Maybe she thought he'd go back to her after college when he no longer needed his parents money. Maybe she was still waiting for him.

I tried to shake the thought away as I stuck the image back on the mirror. She was part of James' past, just like Isabella. I was his present and future. There was no reason to dwell over either of them. I pulled out my phone and saw that there were still no messages from James. Hopefully Rob would find him soon.

As I sat down on James' bed to wait for him, I noticed the copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone that had been missing from his bookshelf. It was sitting on his night stand. I pulled it onto my lap and let it fall open to a random page. The copy was really worn and felt oddly comforting in my hands, similar to my own copy. I skimmed the words that I had read half a dozen times and froze.

James hadn't read these books for the cute little redheaded girl. That part had been a tease. He read them because he needed anescape. He felt trapped here. I looked up at the very blue room. Living up to his parents' expectations must have been stifling. He dumped the girl that he loved and married a girl he never would. But that's all I really knew. And that wasn't his childhood. What horrible things had they made him do before that?

I loved the man that I knew. But I didn't know everything about him. All I knew about his childhood now was that he escaped to this very blue room to read. He must have felt so alone. There were hundreds of books on those shelves. I had told him I was nerdy growing up, preferring a book over socializing, but he had never told me that he was the same. Maybe we had more in common than I ever realized.

I started flipping through the book and saw a folded piece of paper lying between the pages. I pulled it out and unfolded it. The writing was faint, either faded from age or he hadn't had as sure of a hand back then. But I could make out the words. It was a list of criteria for emancipation. James had crossed out each line, probably because none of them applied to him. A permanent escape was unattainable.

So where had this boy gone? Why had he tried to become independent from his family only to do whatever they wanted for the next ten years of his life? What had changed? It couldn't have just been the issue of money. His parents were plenty generous with that. Offering me five million dollars to disappear to supposedly protect their son. They would never have really cut him off, would they? It didn't make any sense. There must have been something James hadn't told me.

I put the piece of paper back and closed the book. I didn't need to ask myself all those questions. His parents had taken away the love of his life, and I knew better than anyone how strongly James loved. So he had given up on life. He realizedhe was destined to be miserable and just seemed to accept it. James wasn't weak. He was the exact opposite. He was stoic. His parents repeatedly tried to break him and he just took it. Anyone would have needed an escape. A book, a bottle of scotch, sex. His escapes had matured with him.

I set the book back down on the nightstand. He wasn't addicted to me. We were both an escape for each other from our normal lives. We were each other's happy endings. The fairy tales in the books that lined his shelves really did exist. It wasn't an addiction. It was our reality. We were the lucky ones because we had found each other. No one could ever convince me otherwise.

The door squeaked but I didn't turn around. I could feel that it was him. "You really did like Harry Potter?" I put my palm down on top of the book on the nightstand.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said, ignoring my comment. He sounded on edge, like he really had searched through the whole house for me.

"I texted you to tell you I was in your room." I stood up but kept my face turned to the ground. I knew there was a bruise forming on my cheek and I didn't want him to see it. Not until we were far away from this awful party.

"There's no cell reception in this stupid house."

"Oh. Is it okay if I take this?" I asked and picked up the book. "We don't have a copy at our place."

"No." He cleared his throat. "We'll buy a new copy for us."

He hadn't wanted me to see the paper inside. I shouldn't have come in here. I had invaded his privacy. I put the book back down. "Okay, let's go then." I pretended to scratch my cheek and I walked past him so that he wouldn't be able to see my face.

"Penny?" He grabbed my wrist, moving my hand away from my face. "What the hell happened?" His words were harsh, but his thumb tracing over the bruise on my cheekbone was soft and delicate. "Are you okay?" His touch felt even gentler than it had a second ago. It made me feel like crying. But I didn't want him to think it was worse than it was.

"Nothing." I didn't look up at him. "It's fine."

"Baby?" He kept his hand on the side of my face. "Who did this?"

"No one. I was upset and I made a wrong turn. This house is enormous, I just ran into..."

"Why are you lying to me?" He sounded hurt. I still hadn't made eye contact with him.

Why was I lying? We didn't lie to each other. Not anymore. And it didn't matter if he knew the truth. Making him hate Isabella even more was only for the best. I never wanted to see any of these people ever again.

"Penny, tell me."

"Isabella slapped me. It's not a big deal. Can we please just go?"

His hand fell from my face and he grabbed the door handle.