On Christmas morning, I wake up next to Piper with a smile on my face.

We left the windows open last night, and the linen curtains gently blow like ghosts in the wind as the salty air fills the room. The sun hasn't fully risen, but the chirp of birds signals it'll happen soon. There's been a seagull with one leg who has decided to perch on the balcony each morning, and today is no different. I blame Piper for feeding him breadcrusts the first day. His call is far less appealing than the cooing doves, but I feel bad for the big guy, so I promise him biscuit scraps after breakfast.

Piper rolls over, hair splayed like a golden octopus across the pillow. "Morning."

"Good morning." I toss an arm over her side.

She leans in for a kiss. "Is it Christmas?"

"It is." I return the kiss. "Doesn't feel like it out there."

"Mmm, I'll take this San Diego weather any day." Her fingertips skim my cheek. "Merry Christmas, Al."

I smile. "Merry Christmas, babe."

She sits up abruptly like she suddenly realizes what happens on Christmas morning. "Can we open presents?"

"Presents as in plural? I only got you one."

She's already out of bed, digging through the bottom dresser drawer. "One is enough. I just happened to get you two since you blew the surprise of my original gift."

I throw on a t-shirt and some thin shorts as I watch her nakedly rooting through another drawer. "Do you want to put something on before we do this?"

"Oh." She opens another drawer—my drawer—and pulls out my Obama campaign t-shirt.

"Didn't you bring your own clothing?" I complain, secretly loving that she prefers to wear my clothes.

"Yours are way more fun." Piper dashes into the living room of our hotel suite. "I'll make coffee."

I run a toothbrush over my teeth before joining her with my small giftwrapped present.

"Ready?" She sits next to me with an eager expression. "Open this one first."

I open the rectangular box to see a framed picture of us. It's the one from the paddlewheel boat where we look completely in love. "It's perfect. Thank you so much."

"I think so, too."

I kiss her. "I'll put it on my mantle first thing when I get home."

"Good." She smiles. "Here's the other one."

"You don't want to open yours?"

She hands me another wrapped gift. "Not yet."

I rip through the green wrapping paper to find a candle.

"You always say you like the way I smell, and the perfume and lotion that I use came out with a line of candles this year," she begins. "Now, if I'm not with you, all you have to do is light this to smell my presence."

I take in a big whiff. "This is insane—it smells exactly like you."

She leans over and sniffs it. "Do you like it?"

I pull her in for a hug. "I would much rather have you around than have to resort to a candle, but this will do."

"I'm glad." She gives me a lingering kiss.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I bend down to get the small box. "Ready for your gift?"

She nods, and no sooner do I hand her the perfectly wrapped gift than she's tearing into it. She pulls out the box and opens it, removing the thin, gold band that forms a shallow V on top. "It's beautiful."

"I saw you admiring it at that jewelry shop in Lake George," I say. "When you went to get the peanut butter fudge, which was delicious by the way, I bought it for you."

"Quite the sly one, aren't you? It fits perfectly." She slips it on her thumb. "It might not be the ring I'd hoped for, but still, I love it."

My heart flutters. "We haven't really talked about that kind of ring, so…"

"Should we?" She blinks up at me. "Talk about it, I mean."

I lift my shoulders. "Sure. I guess."

Both of us remain silent for half a minute, and then fill the air with awkward laughter.

"Do you want to start?" I ask with unevenness in my voice. I didn't think I'd be this nervous to discuss marriage.

"Ok…" She composes herself like she's about to give a speech. "I realize we've only been together for a few months, but I think this could be something that lasts," Piper says.

I can't help feeling elated. "So do I."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I reply through laughter.

Before I know it, Piper envelopes me in a hug. I kiss whatever my lips can reach, which happens to be the top of her ear.

"It's not going to happen immediately because of our jobs and stuff, but after things get settled, I'd like to explore it more," I offer.

"Marriage," she states as a point of clarification. "We are talking about the same thing, right?"

"Yes." I pull back, silly grin on my face, and join our hands in my lap. "Would you want it to be a surprise when I ask?"

"I think so. Are you ok with you being the one who proposes?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Unless you want to do it."

"No." She shakes her head. "I want you to. You can even choose the ring."

I look down at her thumb ring. "I hope this one will do for now."

"It will." She kisses me. "I love it."

We spend the entire day, lazing around the suite, making love multiple times and basking in the glow of our not quite engagement.

The following few days, we take advantage of the warm weather and spend time at the beach. (I should note that the first time Piper put on a bikini, we didn't leave the hotel for an hour, and even then, every time I looked at her laying out by the pool, I got wet.)

We end up taking surf lessons the day before we leave, and Piper's a natural; I'm decent, but balance isn't my forte. We enjoy authentic Mexican food, and Piper vows to make authentic pozole when we return.

All-in-all, it was a wonderful trip that only solidified my desire to spend my life with Piper. Now, it's a matter of getting to a point where that's possible.

We still have five days left before having to return to school after Christmas Break, and Piper and I spend much of it together. The hard part is not being able to enjoy each other's company in public. We agree that would be a recipe for disaster and we're so close to coming out on the other side of this.

We return to school on January 3, and everyone seems to have a post-holiday hangover. There's so much joy over the holidays, not to mention getting a full two weeks off, so to return in the cold, dark month of January is a bummer for just about every teacher and student. Despite this, Piper and I agree to move forward with the plan for her to transfer schools starting second semester. She can't put the wheels in motion until Smith opens after winter break, but she requests a meeting with Dr. Bogan as soon as possible in hopes of it not being too late for a transfer. She updates her resume and cover letter, getting them ready for delivery the moment Dr. Bogan gives the thumbs up.

We also agree that we should inform Louisa about why Piper is making the move. Not only does Louisa deserve the professional courtesy, but we also want to be out as soon as possible. If Louisa found out through the grapevine about our relationship, that might taint the way she views me. Besides, Piper might eventually want to apply for a permanent position at Mounthaven—she can't very well have the head of school questioning her ethical standards.

I convince Piper to allow me to meet with Louisa first, and then Piper can arrange a separate meeting later that week. (She wanted to inform Louisa together, but I didn't think that was a wise move.) So, on January 6 at 4 p.m. I meet with the head.

"How was San Diego?" she asks, ushering me to the seat I always occupy when I'm in her office.

"You remembered," I reply. "It was fantastic—warm, blue skies, authentic Mexican food—everything I could ask for. How was your holiday?"

"More cooking than relaxing, but it was still great." She smiles. "It was nice having my youngest home from college."

"How has he enjoyed his first semester at Haverford?"

"Loves it. I keep telling him he's going to end up being an education major," she replies. "He rolls his eyes and tells me 'in your dreams, mom'."

"You never know."

"True." She pushes her laptop aside and cups her hands. "So, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

"It's about Piper Chapman, our student teacher from Smith," I begin, feeling my heart race.

"The history teacher?"

"Yes." I purse my lips, suddenly feeling a lack of saliva in my mouth. "She's decided to transfer to another school for second semester."

She seems surprised. "Sorry to hear that. From what I've heard, she's been a fantastic teacher."

"Brent will be disappointed to see her go," I offer with a nod.

She jots down a note. "So we'll need to hire someone in the next three weeks?"

"I'll work with Brent on that." I uncross my legs and sit a little taller. "The reason I've shared that news with you is because of the reason Piper is leaving."

She looks up from her notepad. "Something I should be concerned about?"

"No, not really." My mouth is so dry that I pull a water bottle out of my bag and take a sip. "I'm…we're…"

"Yes?"

"Piper and I are in a relationship."

Her eyes widen like saucers.

"No one knows—we've kept it a secret since it started in October." I feel a sense of relief wash over me, but by no means do I feel settled. "I didn't intend for this to happen, but it did, and it's more than just a fling."

"I see." She removes her glasses. "Isn't Piper still in college? She'd have to be if she's student teaching."

"Yes, she's 21. Young, I know, but she's far more mature than her age," I try. "I wouldn't be with someone who wasn't."

"I must admit, I'm shocked at this development." Louisa sits back. "I wouldn't expect something like this from you."

"I wouldn't expect it of me, either." I look at my lap, and then back at her. "But as unlikely as it is, it happened, and I'm…I'm in love with her."

A sound akin to laughter escapes as if that was the last thing Louisa expected me to admit. "Well, then…"

"Again, no one knows about this, and we intend to keep it that way as long as we're both at Mounthaven." I take another sip of water, mouth still parched. "The other option was for me to ask for a second semester sabbatical."

"I need you here too much for that," she responds. "So, let me see if I understand: you've been in a relationship with Piper since October, you've subsequently fallen in love, and now she's leaving Mounthaven so the two of you can be together?"

The tension in my shoulders increases as I feel like I'm waiting for the verdict at the end of a trial. "That's correct."

She nods methodically like she's still trying to wrap her brain around this bomb I just dropped. "I don't approve of you cavorting with one of your subordinates, especially a student teacher." She seems to wait for my acknowledgement.

"Technically, she reports to Brent, so…"

"You've formally observed her, right?" She doesn't wait for my response. "And you're the one who has to write her final evaluation for Smith College. Every teacher in the upper school is considered your subordinate. Do you have a rebuttal to that line of logic?"

"No." I try to maintain eye contact.

"From here on out, you won't observe her in the classroom or have any contact with Piper unless it's in a group setting like faculty meetings."

I nod.

"Does Brent know about this?"

"Not yet."

"We'll meet with him tomorrow." She slides her glasses back on and writes something on her notepad. "It would probably be best to keep your distance from Piper until she's gone."

"I know."

"Other than Brent, I don't think anyone else needs to know about this," she sighs. "But if it somehow gets leaked, I'll be forced to deal with the matter and neither of us would appreciate the consequences."

I nod.

She glances up at me. "Don't be careless."

"I won't." I swallow hard. "I don't take this lightly, Louisa. My job matters a great deal to me—this community means a great deal to me."

"You matter to us—to me," she says. "Don't fuck that up."

I've never heard Louisa curse, but that little dash of humanity makes me smile.

"I am happy you've found someone, Alex. I just wish it wasn't a Mounthaven teacher." She stands. "Perhaps after the dust settles, I'll be able to congratulate you. Until then, keep it quiet and keep it clean."

"I will." I stand. "Thank you for your time."

I walk out of her office feeling one part happy to get it off my chest, and the other part feeling like I've disappointed my boss. My first instinct is to go to Piper's house, but Louisa's warning rings in my ear. Instead, I call.

"How did it go?" she asks without pretense.

"It wasn't fun," I sigh. "Louisa was all business."

"She didn't fire you though, right?"

"No, but she inferred that if it comes out, she'll probably have to," I reply.

"We figured that."

"Yeah." I get into my car and relay the whole conversation to Piper. "All that to say, we can't see each other anytime soon."

"What about on weekends? We've been so careful."

"Piper, if you care about my career, you won't force the issue," I say severely. "Please don't make me have to defend my position on this."

She remains silent.

"I want to be with you, but we just can't right now. It's a small sacrifice for a limited amount of time."

"I know," she says meekly. "But I don't have to like it."

"I don't like it either. Three weeks will fly by, and then we'll be free to be a couple wherever we go."

"Even if we waited until spring to go out in public, when people associated with Mounthaven see us together, they're going to have questions," she protests.

"They might, but we don't owe them answers."

"What if they ask?"

"Do you really think someone is bold enough to ask if we were seeing each other while you were doing your student teaching? I don't think most people have the balls to ask that."

"Maybe you're right, but we need to be prepared," she says. "And if they aren't brave enough to ask, the stares we'll get will be enough to know what they're thinking."

"That's not our immediate concern," I respond. "We need to worry about the next three weeks and keeping a low profile. We also need to think about your job placement. Have you touched base with Dr. Bogan?"

"We have a meeting next week."

"Did you e-mail him what it's about?" I turn down my street.

"Yes."

"Has he replied?"

"No."

"Alright." This whole thing makes me anxious. "I'm about to pull into my driveway. Can I call you later?"

"Sure."

I hang up, pull into my driveway and exhale loudly. This is going to be the longest three weeks of my life.

Author's note: Thank you again for the lovely reviews!