Vera and I are sipping tea, talking about how things are with her, how attentive Lloyd is being. I’m happy for her, truly, I am.

It helps that I have Royce now.

Royce, who loves to take me to functions, to shower me with gifts and flowers.

He isn’t Vera, and he’ll never be able to take her place in my heart, but at least he wants me.

At least he can have me.

It feels good to know I’m wanted – cherished.

My blush at his latest extravagance of filling my bedroom with roses and violets tips Vera off.

A bouquet of roses arrives a few days later with a card from Royce. His words have me blushing again, although they are by no means improper. I know he’s asked Father for the privilege of courting me.

I also know that both Father and Mother were extremely pleased and eager for me to accept his advances, and that they gave their permission for the courtship heartily.

I read the card again.

Miss Hale, would you do me the honor of escorting me this Friday-

Pushing the card away roughly, I sigh. After I collect myself, I send my reply.

I’ve been to Father’s work before, but never has he paraded me around as he does today. The attention I receive from the people there is both flattering and flustering.

There’s one person, however, who catches my attention when he takes my hand, placing a kiss on the back of it as he greets me, his eyes alight with interest, appreciation and humor.

I can’t help but blush, which brings a mischievous smile to his lips.

“Truly a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hale,” he rumbles. “Royce King III, at your service.”

Father’s chest swells with pride as I curtsey.

Vera’s starting to show. She’s insisting on sharing this experience with me, and though it pains me, I’m also secretly thrilled. There are still some things that she’ll only share with me.

I’d planned on going to see her today, but Mother intercepted me, saying I needed to go to Father’s bank to bring his lunch.

The dress she forces me into has me puzzled, but I do as I’m told, though I make a minor detour to apologize to Vera. We agree to meet the following week, making plans for a shopping trip to get her some new dresses.

The effort it takes me to push past the hurt is almost too much, but I do it – for Vera. I can see in her eyes how much it pains her to see me suffer.

How much she still loves me, as I do her.

How excited she is about the prospect of becoming a mother.

That’s a dream we’ve always shared – children. And now she will have them.

With Lloyd.

Taking a deep breath, I force a smile on my face. “Congratulations, Vera.”

I rise to hug her. Her arms wrap around me as she sobs quietly.

It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her last. I’m trying to figure out what’s different about her, but I can’t place it.

She nervously places her teacup down, straightening her skirt. Her eyes continually flit between me and her hands, which are fiddling with her apron.

“Rose?” she whispers, finally looking at me fully, apprehensively.

I wait.

“I-I…I’m pregnant, Rosalie,” she breathes, her eyes shimmering with equal parts delight and sadness.

The stab of pain in my chest takes the air from my lungs as I try to come up with a suitable response.

“Rose… please… don’t be upset. Please?”

I try to keep my promise to Vera but it’s so very difficult to witness how the two of them have grown so close. To see her allow Lloyd’s touches and shows of affection.

The jealousy I feel is two-fold: I want it to be me instead.

Both as the one to touch her, and to be in her place. Not that I desire Lloyd – I purely don’t. But to have someone as devoted to me as he is to her…

That, I long for.

Still, I do my best not to let on and be happy for her.

Vera and Lloyd have just returned from their honeymoon in the country – a gift from her parents. The only gift they’d been able to afford. Vera had been thrilled. At least, she looked it.

I sigh, my finger lightly caressing the image in front of me of a smiling Vera, Lloyd’s arm secure around her waist.

This, the album I have put together of her wedding day, is my gift to her. Not the pictures, mind, as those are ones her father had taken. But everything else is mine.

The hidden messages no one will ever see, are mine.

Watching her walk down the aisle is agony. No one else notices, but I see how she steels herself, forcing the smile on her face to brilliancy. A glance at Lloyd tells me he’s too deliriously happy to have picked up on it.

Good. I’m glad. As much as this pains me, to see the love of my life be wed to another, I wish her no harm. Only happiness.

Our eyes meet briefly and for just a second, she falters. She brushes it off as tripping over her veil and moves on.

I barely make it through the ceremony.