Hey everyone! So, I finished November and I'm pretty happy about my advancement on my original (you can go check it out on my Tumblr if you're interested, it's not much but it's taking form so I'm happy!).

Anyway, here's chapter 18, I hope you'll enjoy it. It starts veeeeery NSFW but it's only a couple of paragraphs and then you're fine XD The rest of the chapter is… very angsty and kinda sad and I hope you will all forgive me for putting Feyre through it!

Thank you for commenting!

Feyre clenched the sheets beside her, enjoying the sensation of whatever Rhys was doing between her legs. He'd been at it for a while now (maybe fifteen minutes, maybe thirty, she didn't know), working her up with his fingers and his mouth, listening to every change in her breathing, to every gasp and moan that was coming out of her lips. He'd adapted his movements according to her reactions, as if he was learning exactly how to pleasure her best. He pressed in a particularly sensible point and she gasped. "Oh, keep doing that."

He kept his pressure even, moving slightly inside her, only increasing the sensation. "Like that?"

"Yeah, just like that." Her voice was a mere whisper, but she couldn't get out more than this short sentence before she felt her body shiver under the waves of pleasure, and she let out a small noise that might have been a moan, might have been his name. He kept on stroking her softly for a while longer, and when her breathing started to calm down, he slowly climbed back up to lay down beside her. She nestled into his arms and smiled at him. He answered with an unbelievably smug smile of his own, before drawing closer and kissing her softly.

"Rhys," she murmured between two kisses, "that was… incredible."

"I know."

"Modesty really isn't your strong suit, is it?"

"Well, why would I be modest when my girlfriend seems to be so pleased with what I do to her?"

She laughed, then tugged him closer. He obliged, and she enjoyed the warmth of his body around her. She'd come back from New York the day before, and it was the second night in a row that she spent at Rhys' house.

She'd signed the contract, and had felt lighter than she'd had in months afterwards. Her last night in New York had been spent over a delicious meal with John and Mary, and she'd loved it, but when she'd spotted Rhys on the hall of the airport in Velaris, she'd realized just how much she had missed him. He must have felt the same way, because he had barely left her side since then, spending every minute not at work cuddling her, touching her, kissing her.

"I was thinking," he spoke, making her jolt at the sudden noise. "This weekend, I have to go up to the mountain for the inauguration of one of the libraries, maybe you'd like to come with me?"

"To the Illyrian camps?"

"Yes, I'm leaving Saturday and coming back Sunday afternoon."

"Oh I would have loved to, but my mom is coming to Velaris and I'm having dinner with her on Saturday."

"Your mom is coming?"

"Yes, she's meeting with some friends of hers and we arranged a dinner, because I haven't seen her in a while." Since before she'd broken up with Tamlin, actually. She hadn't found the courage to go up to her parents' house since then, and her conversations with them had been brief on the phone after the first time she'd called to tell them about the breakup. Her father had been sad, but her mother had pestered her for details, insisting that maybe she should give him another chance, and simply losing interest when Feyre had refused to explain what had happened between them. But it had been months since then, and she hoped her mother had understood by now that she wasn't going to get back together with him.

"Then I guess I'll have to take you up the camps for the next inauguration in a few months," Rhys murmured in her ear, and she smiled at the idea that he was talking about 'them' a few months down the road. She probably should've felt uncomfortable at the idea of planning some kind of future so far ahead, but she didn't. It didn't feel forced between them, it came naturally, and she could imagine herself with him months later.

"I'd like that."

The restaurant was one of the most in vogue of Velaris. Not surprising, seeing as her mother had chosen it, and she would love being seen eating here, among the wealthiest and most influential citizens of the city. Feyre restrained a laugh at the memory of Rhys, who could certainly be counted as a member of this upper-class crowd, seated on her bed and eating indian food directly from the box. Her mother would surely be mortified if she knew her daughter had made the future CEO of the Night Court eat in such conditions.

"Feyre, are you listening to me?"

She was brought back to reality by her mother's sharp tone.

"Sorry mom, I'm listening. What were you saying?"

"I was talking about your apartment."

"Right. I told you already, I'm not going to move out. I'm barely managing to pay the rent for this one, so I'm not going to look for something else."

"Yes, I know. But I've been thinking that maybe you could move back to Springfield for a while. There are good job opportunities there, and you could find a cheaper apartment to live in."

"I don't want to move back to Springfield. I like living here, I like this city, I have a life here. And I doubt you saw good job opportunities for an illustrator in Springfield."

"Well, not exactly, no. But you could change fields, maybe find something a bit more… stable?"

When her parents had been freshly reunited, her mother had admitted to her that she was afraid Feyre didn't have a secured enough situation for herself. And when Feyre and Tamlin had moved in together, she'd said that she was glad her daughter had found such an amazing man to take care of her. Feyre had laughed but had been glad that her mother had stopped pestering her to find another job. But apparently, now that she'd left Tamlin, the subject was back on the table.

"Maybe I don't want another job. And actually, I wanted to talk to you about it. I was in New York last week to meet some people about a project, I signed a contract with them to illustrate a series of books. It's going to get me as steady salary for at least eight years."

"Oh Feyre, that's wonderful! Are you going to have to move to New York then?"

"No, I negotiated this part with them. I'll be working from my office in Velaris, and we'll have meetings every three months or so, once here and once there."

"Oh that's good then."

They ate their dessert in silence, a delicious chocolate mousse that reminded Feyre of the homemade chocolate cake a certain boyfriend of hers had made for her.

Right. Her boyfriend.

"Mom?"

"Yes sweetie?" Her mother had never called her sweetie before she left, and had started only when she'd come back to them. Apparently, she thought giving her daughters cute nicknames would help make up for nearly ten years of abandonment. But Feyre didn't say anything about the nickname.

"I… I met someone." Her voice came out more joyful than what she'd intended, and she smiled broadly. Her mom kept on eating her ice-cream, and barely looked up at her.

"You did?"

"Yes, about a month ago. His name is Rhysand, he's really nice. He works in…"

"Have I told you about Elain's birthday party yet?"

"Mom."

"What is it, sweetie?"

"I was talking."

"Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were finished."

"Yeah, 'he's works in' was definitely the end of my sentence."

"I'm sorry, I just don't want to hear about some man I know is not going to stick."

"'To stick'? And why wouldn't he 'stick', as you say?"

"Well because, sweetie, you're obviously going to get back together with Tamlin soon enough."

She felt like her heart had stopped. Or maybe it was racing in her chest.

"I'm not going to get back together with him. Ever."

"Oh please sweetie, this whole 'leaving him and taking an apartment alone' business is just a phase you're going through. You'll wake up at some point and realize you made a mistake. I'm sure he'll be willing to take you back once you're ready. I just don't want you to break another man's heart in the process, that's all."

"Stop calling me 'sweetie.' And I'm not going through a phase, I'm not going to wake up, and I'm certainly not going to break up with Rhys. He is ten times the man Tamlin ever was."

"I'm sure he's nice, but let's be honest, can he offer you the same life you could have with Tamlin?"

"The life I had with Tamlin is not the life I want. He wanted me to be his trophy wife, staying at home, planning parties for his friends and popping out children."

"And living in a minuscule apartment in a poor neighborhood is better than this?"

"At least it's a life I chose for myself. And it's better than getting abused and attacked in your own house." The words came out before she knew it. She hadn't meant to tell her mother about that night. But now there was no going back, because her mom had finally stopped eating her dessert to look at her.

"What did you say?"

So Feyre told her. It was long and difficult, but she told her of the engagement ring, of her panicking and telling Tamlin everything she'd been feeling. She told her about him screaming at her and cornering her against the glass cabinet. She told her about fleeing to Alis' house.

But when she looked up at her mother's eyes, she didn't find pity or rage. She found… she didn't know what it was, but it made her stomach turn. Finally, her mother spoke, in a soft, sweet voice that didn't help reassure her:

"Feyre, sweetie, I'm so sorry you feel that way about what happened. But… you can't go around accusing him of having abused you. He went a little overboard, and I understand now why you left that night. But it's not like he sent you to the hospital or something. It feels like you're exaggerating a little."

She didn't answer, she wasn't sure she would ever have words in her mind again, other than the ones her mother had just spoken. You're exaggerating. The words she'd been afraid to hear, the ones that had her keep her story silent for so many months. Telling Rhysand had been liberating, and she'd thought her mother would react as he had. But she was wrong, and now the world was crumbling around her. But she didn't have the energy to contradict her, didn't know if she cared what her mom thought. She looked down to her plate and managed to let out a soft "I don't want to talk about it any longer."

Her mom seemed relieved to drop the subject and kept on rambling about Elain's coming birthday party. But Feyre didn't register everything, and the words kept on ringing in her ears. You're exaggerating.