“It’s all right.” Camilla took the notepad from Lindsey’s hand and placed it on the other side of the bed. “This isn’t about the lines. I wanted to talk to you about everything that’s happened.”
“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said again. “I know I shouldn’t have gone into your rooms without permission, and I know I shouldn’t have spied on you.” Her lip quivered. “I’m sorry for forcing you to tell me about something you didn’t want me to
know about.”
“Lindsey, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you. What I wanted was to tell you on my terms. You found out in the worst way. And you saw me on one of my worst days in a long time. I wasn’t ready to tell you. Not yet.”
“You could have told me,” Lindsey said. “I would have understood.”
“It’s always hard to know how someone will react. Most people react badly.”
“How do you mean?”
“Where do I begin?” Camilla said. “There are the people who dismiss what I go through as ‘lady problems,’ or don’t understand how debilitating it can be. They see me walking around and living life like everyone else, so they don’t believe there is anything really wrong, and they think I’m just being lazy when I can’t do things because I’m ill. It’s the curse of an invisible illness.”
“I would never think anything like that,” Lindsey said.
“I wasn’t afraid you would. Although it’s frustrating, I can deal with people like that. What’s worse is when people pity me.” Camilla’s eyes focused on something in the distance. “I don’t want pity. I don’t want to be told that it’s amazing that I’m still able to live my life despite everything. Sure, it’s hard sometimes. But that’s just how it is for me. We all have to play the hand we’ve been dealt.” Camilla gave Lindsey a half smile. “And I have to say, apart from my illness, I’ve been dealt a very good one.”
Camilla’s voice grew fainter. “I don’t want you to treat me any differently. I don’t want anything to change between us. And most of all, I don’t want this to change the way you see me.”
“Camilla.” Lindsey placed her hand on Camilla's arm. “This isn’t going to change the way I see you. There’s nothing that could make me see you as anything other than the strong, funny, beautiful woman you are. And I promise you. Nothing is going to change between us.”
Camilla leaned over and kissed Lindsey on the forehead. “Consider your punishment over.”
“Really? But I’m nowhere near finished.”
“I’m feeling generous. No more lines. But there’s something else I need you to do.”
“Anything, Mistress,” Lindsey said.
Camilla patted the spot on the bed next to her. “Stay here and keep me company for a while.”
Lindsey climbed onto the enormous bed and sat down next to Camilla. After a moment or so, she placed her head in Camilla’s lap. Camilla’s hand fell to Lindsey’s head. She stroked her fingers through Lindsey’s hair.
A feeling of warmth spread through her. She still had plenty of questions she wanted to ask Camilla, but they could wait for another time.
Camilla broke the silence. “Tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t know.”
“Uh,” Lindsey racked her brains. “I have the same birthday as Benjamin Franklin?”
“That’s interesting, but not what I meant. Something meaningful.”
Lindsey was silent for a moment. “I used to want to be an artist. I went to art school and everything. But I gave up on the idea after I graduated.”
“Oh?” Camilla said. “What changed?”
Lindsey shrugged. “I grew up.”
Camilla brushed Lindsey’s hair out of her face and looked down at her. “Growing up doesn’t mean giving up on your dreams.”
“It did for me,” Lindsey said. “I have too many bills to pay. And even if I didn’t, the chances of me being able to make a living from my art aren’t great. That’s the reality of being an artist.”
“What kind of art do you make?”
“I draw and paint. Well, I used to. I haven’t for a while.”
“You don’t even do it for fun?” Camilla asked.