Session 𝓢ixty-Two

Session 62:
"The Threat"

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

"Adorable."

"Stop being weird," I groaned, glancing away from my phone to Monroe.

We had just finished dinner and cleaned everything up—including the paint setup.

Monroe grabbed us a few necessities from her main bathroom, like toothpaste and our toothbrushes, so we could head up to her hidden room.

We forgot to grab waters, though, so Monroe headed back downstairs to get some for us.

Now, she's been staring at me like some creep for God knows how long.

I've been too occupied with staring at these pictures of us.

Ugh, maybe I'm a creep too.

"You really adore those pictures," Monroe said, walking over to the bed I laid across, holding my phone in midair.

"I do," I murmured happily, glancing back at my phone displayed with my favorite one.

It was Monroe kissing my cheek, and me smiling like a fucking idiot with fry fangs in my mouth.

"I kind of realized we don't really have pictures together, you know," I whispered, locking my phone as I laid up from the bed to lay vertically, "Over our... break," I awkwardly settled on, "I had to look up photos of you if I wanted to see you."

Monroe's lips twitched up as she untucked the precisely tucked covers. "Now, who's the creep?"

I scoffed, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it at her.

"Not all of us had Polaroids to touch ourselves to, Dr. Leclair," I countered with a narrowed look.

Monroe's soft lips dramatically parted, "Liberty," she said, pretending to be offended, "Who do you take me for?"

I rolled my eyes as she slid underneath the thick covers, causing me to do the same.

"Whatever, I'm just happy to have these few photos of us," I determined, grabbing my phone again. "It's like we didn't exist as a we before."

"That's customary," Monroe murmured as she slid closer to me, tangling her smooth legs with mine, "I've never been huge on photos."

I lazily raised my brows, realizing that's what came with the arrangement with her.

You don't get to document that it even existed.

"And what about Maricel?" I suddenly asked, glancing away from my phone, "She got the stupid coffee photo with you."

Speaking of Maricel, I should probably tell Monroe about the coffee meetup tomorrow.

I want to try to get out of it first since I'm kind of regretting agreeing, but if I can't, I know I need to tell her.

"Coffee photo?" she asked with furrowed brows, briefly glancing down at my lips.

"Your hand was in the picture she took of your coffees," I blankly pointed out, smiling slightly when Monroe inevitably leaned in to kiss my lips.

"I didn't realize you knew my hands so well," she murmured, pulling back from my lips, only to briefly kiss the side of my neck.

"You're being very... annoying tonight," I mumbled, nudging her away when she nipped at the skin of my neck.

"Okay, Ms. it's only eight," Monroe mocked my tone of voice.

I rolled my eyes. "You're still on that?" I asked, my lips twitching up into an inevitable smile.

Monroe has gone on about the Dr. Kincaid situation all night.

Specifically, that I pointed out it was only eight o'clock.

It's kind of cute how much it bothers her.

"You think this is amusing, Liberty?" she suddenly asked, eyeing my lips tugged up in a subtle smile.

"No, of course not, Doc," I teased her, leaning in to briefly kiss her lips, "No hour is acceptable for a text from her. I understand."

Monroe hummed blankly, not bothering to reciprocate my kiss.

She pulled away to turn off the lamp instead, drenching the room in darkness and making me awkwardly purse my lips.

"Monroe," I said, watching as she slid down into the bed to lay down.

I definitely just pissed her off.

It's clearly too soon to discuss that topic.

"I'll have that coffee picture taken down," was all Monroe said as I stared down at her through the darkness surrounding us.

"You don't have to, baby," I assured her, sliding down to lay with her.

"Let's call it an exchange," she murmured, running her hands around my waist, "The picture for Celia's life."

"Monroe," I immediately said in disapproval, "We're not hurting anyone."

"We?" Monroe clarified, turning her head to meet my stare through the darkness, "Only I handle this, darling. You just look pretty for me."

Her words made my face burn up, unconsciously glancing away from her pinpointed stare.

"It would be on my hands too," I pointed out as she slid her arms around my waist, facing me entirely.

"You're thinking too deeply about it, sweetheart," she whispered so softly, leaning in to subtly kiss the edge of my mouth, "Let mommy handle this."

I shook my head, but before I could actually say anything in response—

Monroe pressed her lips to mine.

I pressed my hands against her stomach, attempting to pull away and voice how wrong it is to kill Dr. Kincaid.

But Monroe grabbed my neck, firmly holding me in place before I could pull back fully.

"Monroe," my words muffled against her lips, gasping when she slid her leg between mine.

"Address me correctly," she murmured against my lips, pressing her thigh against my exposed clit.

All that covered my body was that same silky robe I pulled on earlier.

"Mommy," I unconsciously breathed out when she shifted her thigh against me, making a moan vibrate in my throat.

Then I quickly realized what she's doing.

Distracting me.

"You're not killing her," I tried my best to say against her soft lips.

"Shhh," Monroe said, nipping at my bottom lip before softly sucking on it, "Mommy's handling it, darling."

I shook my head, making her grip subtly tighten around my throat.

Then I felt her touch slide down my stomach, her fingertips smoothing down to my core, which she slid her thigh away from.

"I said you aren't, Monroe," I forced out when she finally pulled away from my lips.

But only to watch my face as she slid two fingers past my folds, burying them so deeply inside of me.

My brows furrowed, reaching for her shoulders that I harshly gripped as an annoying moan spilled from my lips.

"I know what you said, Liberty," she murmured, curling her fingers into me, "But we both know who makes the decisions here."

I dug my nails into her covered shoulders, biting back my moans, "Not this one," I forced out breathlessly.

Monroe's lips twitched up as she eyed my face, pressing deeper against my spot.

I quickly reached down, "Ro," I shakily breathed out, gripping her wrist as I tried to fight my moans, "J-just..." I trailed off, moaning even deeper as she continued curling and uncurling inside of me, "Can we just—Monroe."

She hummed in approval, "Come here, darling," she murmured, letting go of my neck to pull me closer, "Let mommy take care of you."

I let out a deep breath, moaning so deeply as I buried my face in her chest.

"Oh my god," I moaned as she quickened her pace inside of me, curling into my spot repeatedly, "That... feels so good."

"I know, darling. I know," she softly whispered as I let go of her wrist, clinging to her body when I began to quickly shoot up to my peak.

"Yes," I forced out in a soft moan, my words muffled against her chest as she continued her strokes inside of me.

"Let it out, darling," Monroe said, making more deep moans spill from my lips.

I arched into her, gasping when it only angled her deeper into my spot.

"Good girl," she praised me, stroking so perfectly against my spot that it made my legs tremble.

Even with my eyes closed, they still rolled to the back of my head, quickly approaching my peak from her praise and deep strokes.

"Mommy," I breathed out, falling deeply into my orgasm.

"I'm right here, darling," Monroe said, making me spiral deeper into my orgasm, clinging to her as I tightened even more around her fingers.

Monroe slowed down her pace inside of me, helping me ride out my orgasm as I moaned and whimpered against her chest.

Then I fell limp against her, letting out a shaky breath as my tense legs relaxed.

Monroe carefully slid out of me, pressing the softest kiss to the top of my head.

"I just wanted..." I trailed off, letting out a deep sigh as I nuzzled closer against her, "I wanted to try my way first. I won't be her patient anymore, so we shouldn't even come into contact."

"She's already watching you. I don't trust that she won't find a way to run into you somewhere," Monroe explained, which made sense.

I see her point of view.

Her way is simpler, but it's not our only option.

It would be insane to just skip to killing someone, or even killing them in general.

I can't believe this is a conversation we're having. 

"Can we please try at least?" I softly whispered, hugging my arms around her, "Please, baby? We still have other options."

Monroe remained silent, but I took that as a good sign.

She's calculating beyond this.

Maybe considering my words?

I really hope so.

"Try," Monroe suddenly said, the word barely audible in the air.

Then she cleared her throat, running her arms around my waist and pulling me closer.

"Yes, we'll try," she agreed, making me relax entirely against her.

"Thank you, Ro Ro," I murmured, letting out a soft sigh.

"Only for you," Monroe said, making me smile so hard, "My sweet girl."

I hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her chest before settling in her arms.

Monroe tangled her legs with mine, instinctively leaning down to nuzzle her face into my neck.

I felt tired almost immediately, which I knew was partially from my orgasm, and this position with Monroe that I always slept in the best.

I drifted off to sleep before I could realize it, my breaths growing soft against her chest.

The next time I woke up was to Monroe's second alarm.

Not even her first one, which meant I slept really hard.

It was only nine, but I decided to get up, especially so I could text Maricel some kind of excuse to skip our coffee date.

But it seemed she had already beaten me to it.

Not with an excuse.

Maricel texted me a local coffee place to meet at.

It was definitely too late to cancel.

I need to rip this band-aid off.

I also need to tell Monroe.

I let out a deep sigh, locking my phone and sitting up in bed.

I stared forward for a moment, contemplating how I would tell Monroe about the coffee meetup situation.

Or how she would react.

I felt a little nervous, but I think once I explain that I'm taking a step back from Maricel, everything will be fine.

Besides, Monroe already knows that we're friends.

I nodded a few times to myself, pulling the covers back to slide out of bed.

I adjusted the robe I wore, pulling it down a little before walking towards the bathroom.

I knocked on the door first, not wanting to just barge in and startle her.

"Come in, darling."

I immediately twisted the vintage gold door knob, softly pushing the door open and peaking my head through.

Monroe stood by the sink, wearing a black button-down and matching dress pants.

Her dark hair was up in a ponytail, her bangs framing her face, covered in light makeup.

She wore her usual slippers rather than heels, which I knew she would slide on right before she left.

"Good morning," I said, pursing my lips into a smile as I walked further into the bathroom.

Monroe turned away from the mirror with a soft smile, "Good morning, my sweet girl," she said, reaching for my waist the moment I stopped in front of her.

I smiled wider when she leaned down to briefly kiss me, running my arms around her waist and hugging myself closer to her.

"How did you sleep?" she asked as we pulled away from the brief kiss, gently tucking my stray curls behind my ears for me.

"Good," I murmured, eyeing her beautiful face, "What about you?"

"Very good, darling," Monroe said, briefly kissing my lips again, "Let's do breakfast before I leave."

I nodded.

But words didn't come out.

All I did was stare at her for a moment, physically unable to form my next words pertaining to Maricel.

Is this how Monroe feels when she's silent for those long periods of time?

"What is it, darling?" Monroe asked, her blue eyes trailing my face for more.

I blinked a few times, drawing in a deep breath before I said—

"Maricel."

Fuck, that's not what I wanted to say.

It's not how I should've kicked off this conversation.

Fuck this.

"What about her?" Monroe asked with furrowed brows, running her hand up my back to hold me closer. "Is everything okay, Liberty?"

I quickly nodded, not wanting her to think Maricel had done a single thing wrong.

Or else she might be on the list with Dr. Kincaid.

Maybe?

Honestly, now that I think about it... Monroe wouldn't hurt Maricel.

It's possible, but the odds are less likely.

She's a past arrangement, so I really don't think Monroe would.

"I agreed to get coffee with her today," I suddenly said.

Monroe let out a deep breath, making me internally panic.

"But I'm planning to take a step back—I actually want to tell her today at coffee," I quickly rushed out, awkwardly blinking a few times.

"Of course," Monroe said, caressing her hand back down my back, "Relax, darling. I could never be mad at you for anything. We know this."

I pursed my lips, determining that was entirely the problem.

All I've ever endured were punishments, and she moves past it.

But with anyone else, it's entirely the opposite.

She can and will stay mad at them.

That's what I'm nervous about.

But right now, isn't the time for that.

This is technically a win.

Monroe is okay with it.

"Okay, I just didn't want to keep it from you," I explained, making Monroe's lips twitch up slightly.

"I appreciate that, beautiful girl," she murmured, leaning down to briefly kiss my lips. "Come on. I want to make you breakfast."

I nodded immediately, already feeling decently hungry.

Monroe led me out of the bathroom, walking with me out of the bedroom.

We passed down the familiar hallway lined with the cutest pictures of her, heading down the staircases toward the main level.

I ended up sitting at the kitchen island, getting comfortable as I watched Monroe push her sleeves up to her elbows before washing her hands.

It was the most attractive sight ever.

Monroe Leclair in the kitchen.

God, can this woman cook.

Not only does she make incredible food, but she can cook in the most effortless way.

She's truly too powerful to walk this earth.

It's concerning at this point.

Within the span of thirty minutes, she managed to make us both sunny-side-up eggs with toast, avocado, and spinach with tomatoes on the side.

I hate spinach, or at least I think I do.

I've never tried to eat it.

Somehow, Monroe managed to make it good.

Maybe it was the olive oil and seasoning on top of the perfectly ripe tomatoes.

Either way, I ate a really healthy and balanced breakfast with no regrets.

Once Monroe left for work, I got dressed in a pair of her sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear home.

I didn't need to rush since I was still early, but once I got a text from Zion and Sarai about shopping plans, I knew I wanted to put effort into my look today.

I purposely made sure to tell them I could meet at eleven thirty.

I'm meeting Maricel at eleven, so I have a good excuse to leave as quickly as possible.

I got dressed in a pair of jeans that clung to my waist perfectly, wearing a Gallery Dept. T-shirt with it for a more casual look.

I refreshed my curls, doing light makeup before slipping on my shoes and applying my perfume.

Then I left my apartment, feeling kind of proud that I was on time for once.

Even with traffic, I made it at eleven on the dot.

Yet somehow Maricel was already seated, sipping on her coffee.

I decided to quickly order a matcha before walking over to her.

"Ay, Libby," Maricel smiled as she lowered her coffee, watching as I got seated across from her.

"Hey," I smiled, setting my matcha and small Louis Vuitton purse on the table. "How's your morning been?"

"Great," Maricel said, her lips spreading in a smile, "But right now it's time to spill on the club. Did you enjoy?"

I pursed my lips, "It was nice, but I just observed," I admitted, grabbing my matcha for a brief sip, "Me and that situationship got back together actually, so no more clubs for me."

Maricel tilted her head, "The recent one?" she asked.

I nodded, "Yeah," I said, knowing I shouldn't spare any more information than what I said.

I don't want to accidentally slip up.

Besides, Maricel is the last person I should be discussing Monroe with.

I just didn't want her to invite me to any more BDSM clubs, or that won't settle well.

"How?" Maricel asked, clearing her throat when I furrowed my brows at the blunt question, "I mean... you went through so much and healed. How did you let this happen?"

I blinked a few times at her question.

A very offensive question.

Maybe it was her tone, but it felt like she was judging me.

Maybe it's a good thing I won't be her friend anymore?

No, she's just trying to keep me accountable, I think.

"I don't know, it just happened. We're trying to make it work as something more serious," I briefly clarified, thinking hard about my words and what I said.

"Serious," Maricel repeated the word back to me, her dark eyes trailing my face. "What do you mean serious?"

I furrowed my brows, mostly because it felt self-explanatory?

I don't know, there's this passive aggression to her tone.

I think?

Or maybe she's just disappointed that I caved after she helped me heal.

"We're working towards a future," I decided to say, smiling slightly to myself.

I hadn't really said the words out loud before to anyone else.

I'm so happy I get to work towards a future with Monroe.

"Why?" Maricel asked, blinking rapidly, "It was so bad—you even said it yourself. You shouldn't throw your healing away."

I pursed my lips, "It's okay, we've decided this is what we want," I tried to assure her, feeling kind of taken aback by how she's responding to this.

Unless—

I drew in a deep breath, noticing the glossiness in her eyes and her tightened jaw.

She knows.

Has she known this entire time?

Or did she just find out?

"Maricel—"

"She doesn't want her," she cut me short, glancing away from me, "She doesn't want her—she just-she'll get bored... yeah."

I tilted my head at her words.

It sounded like she was trying to reassure herself, like I wasn't even sitting here to begin with.

I glanced down, noticing her grip tighten around her mug.

It made something sink inside of me.

I should leav—

"She hates the club," Maricel whispered to herself. "Why does she still want her?"

I blinked a few times, unsure how to get myself out of this situation.

Until Maricel's words clicked in my head.

She sent me to that club on purpose?

What else was purposeful?

"So you gave me that club ticket on purpose," I suddenly said, glancing up to meet her eyes, "You knew this entire time?"

Maricel shook her head, "It was pretty obvious when you stormed away from Ro when I first met you," she pointed out, blinking away her tears, "And then Ro told me to stay away from you because you're a patient. She threatened my family's entire reputation—god forbid, I ruin anything else for them."

I remained silent for a moment, processing her words.

Or the fact that she knew since the very first time I met her.

I guess it was obvious when I declared that Maricel is the kind of girl Monroe should drop everything for, and then ran off.

Monroe also followed after me.

Wow, so this entire thing was staged.

Maricel was purposefully trying to drive a wedge between me and Monroe.

But it's my fault.

She would've left me alone from Monroe's threat, but then I just had to seek her out as a friend.

This is on me.

I guess we both made some mistakes here.

"I'm sorry for trying to be your friend, especially since you're trying to heal," I suddenly said, knowing that was really wrong of me.

Maricel rolled her eyes, "Well, this is what you get for trying. I'm not sorry for everything I did. Karma is karma," she determined, making me furrow my brows, "And I'll still get my karma."

"You manipulated me to get me away from her. Can't we just agree that we were both wrong?" I asked, not wanting to go back and forth over this, "I really am sorry, Maricel."

"Oh, you will be," was all she said, smiling in such a vengeful way that it made my stomach twist, "You forget I'm from LA? I know who your mother is."

That's when it happened.

My entire world came crashing in.

Fuck—wait she can't tell her.

It'll mess up everything. 

"I'm sure the entire world would love to hear about this. Isn't her re-election approaching?" Maricel asked, her voice growing sickly sweet.

I shook my head, but my throat felt closed up.

I couldn't get any words out, and my hands began to tremble obnoxiously.

I honestly wanted to cry, but I knew I shouldn't in front of her.

I really messed up.

"Aw, want to go cry to mistress about it?" Maricel said, standing from the table.

Meanwhile, I was processing that Maricel called Monroe mistress.

I think that's who she's referring to?

"If I can't have her, then neither can you, mija," Maricel smiled happily, picking up her coffee up"Enjoy your last few hours with her."

She didn't wait for me to respond.

She just walked away, leaving me all alone at the small wooden table.

That was so not how I expected that all going.

I really messed up.

Everything was going so well—I was doing so well.

And every time I ruin it.

What is wrong with me?

I shouldn't have even said anything.

I could've apologized better, too.

I clasped my trembling hands tighter together, trying to steady my breathing.

But the moment my eyes grew heavy with tears, I stood sharply from the table.

The chair screeched against the floor, echoing in my ears as I quickly scooped up my things and rushed out of the coffee shop.

I kept my head down as I walked to my car, quickly unlocking it and sliding in.

Tears spilled from my eyes as I dropped my cup in the holder and threw my purse in the passenger seat.

I buried my face in my hands, breaking down entirely at the idea of being so exposed to the world.

Or my mother.

She already hates me as it is.

This coming out would be enough to impact her re-election.

I drew in a series of deep breaths, feeling the familiar weight on my chest.

I can't breathe.

That's all I heard echoing in my head as I tried to gasp for more air.

I patted the passenger seat for my purse, quickly unzipping it and grabbing my phone.

Everything around me was blurry from the tears in my eyes, but I tried my best to unlock my phone and navigate to my call log.

I clicked the most recent contact at the top, knowing it was hers.

My breaths grew more shallow as I listened to the line ring, craving the familiarity of her.

Okay-okay, maybe she can stop Maricel.

Yes.

Monroe can definitely do that, right?

I'm sure this is all okay.

I need to calm down.

Please calm down.

"My sweet girl," her soft voice echoed from the phone speaker.

I parted my lips, trying to force something out.

Words.

A sound.

Something.

But there was nothing.

Just my shallow breaths and crying.

"Liberty?" Monroe said, her voice lowered with seriousness, "Darling, breathe. Remember what we do?"

I immediately squeezed my hands into fists, focusing on the tingling in my hands.

"Focus on your surroundings and squeeze your hands," she guided me, making me nod a few times in a row.

I glanced around my car, to the windshield that had speckles of raindrops littering the glass.

"I'm right here with you. Focus on my voice, Liberty," Monroe calmly told me, making me draw in deeper breaths as I squeezed my hands tighter.

Then I tried rubbing my feet against the floorboard of my car, still staring at my windshield dotted with raindrops.

"Everything is okay, darling. You're okay," Monroe told me, but all I could do was disagree.

"No."

It was the first word that I managed to breathe out, and it was barely even audible.

"No?" Monroe echoed the word back to me.

Then I heard some shuffling on her end, but I continued to focus on my surroundings.

"Are you hurt, Liberty?" she asked me, and I could hear a sudden stiffness in her voice.

"No," I tried my best to breathe out, focusing on the tingling in my hands.

"You're still at Pike Place Coffee," Monroe determined as if she were observing something, "Lock your doors, Liberty."

I didn't even question how she knew I was sitting in my car.

I just reached over and pressed the lock button, letting out another deep breath.

It felt easier this time.

It didn't hurt.

"Okay, my sweet girl, I need you to draw in the biggest breath you can for me," Monroe said, making me nod a few times.

I drew in the longest breath of air, making my chest rise up.

"Now hold it there for me," she instructed, her voice growing soft with me, "Relax, Liberty."

I immediately unraveled my hands, releasing my clenched muscles.

"Now breathe out," Monroe told me, making me exhale a long breath.

I blinked a few times, suddenly feeling so much better.

I felt looser.

My chest doesn't feel as tight anymore either, and I can breathe normally.

"Monroe," I suddenly forced out, tears burning in my eyes.

"I'm right here, my sweet girl," she didn't hesitate to say, "Let it out."

I sniffled, messy tears escaping my eyes, "Maricel, she-she," I whispered, quickly wiping my tears, "She knows about us—she knew the whole time. I went to that club because of her... she pushed me so hard into healing, and she knew the whole time. I shouldn't have befriended her, but I did, and I tried to apologize because this is all my fault, but-but—"

"Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe," Monroe gently cut my rant short, making me draw in a deep breath.

Then I let it out, trying my best to calm back down.

"There you go. You're doing so good," Monroe told me, making me relax deeper as I wiped away more of my tears.

"I... tried to apologize," I spoke again, my words shaky and weak, "But she-she told me she was going to tell my mother and the world about us."

The line remained silent.

Nothing, not even the smallest sound echoed.

I couldn't even hear her breathing.

I considered if I lost service, but everything seemed normal on my illuminated phone screen.

I think she's processing my words and—

"She threatened you?"

I blinked a few times at Monroe's question.

How tight her tone was with me.

Suddenly, I remembered who I'm talking to.

"It wasn't that bad," I decided to say, even if it clearly was, but I don't know what to say right now.

My thoughts are all over the place, and my hands won't stop shaking.

"She triggered your breakdown," Monroe said, almost out of observation, her words concerningly calm.

"I'm okay now—I was just processing," I said, but it was far from true. I just didn't want to make this a bigger deal, "I'll try to talk to her again and fix this."

"No," she immediately said, "I'll handle it from here, Liberty."

Her words were strict.

They left no room for disagreement.

"You're not going to do anything... drastic?" I hesitantly asked, but we both knew what my words meant.

You're not going to kill her.

"Not at all," Monroe said, making something relax inside of me. "You mentioned shopping earlier, yes?"

I nodded, "Yeah, with Zion and Sarai, but I don't feel like I should now. My eyes look puffy and I don't look good anymore," I whispered, eyeing my reflection in the rear-view mirror.

"I'm sure you look beautiful as always, darling," Monroe said, but she's totally biased. "But if you don't feel up to it, I can have some local catalogs sent over to shop through. I'll have it delivered within hours."

I smiled slightly at her offer, "You don't have to do that," I whispered, not wanting her to go out of her way like that.

"You're right," Monroe murmured, "I need to do this instead. Go home, rest your eyes, and relax. I'll text over the catalogs."

I briefly pursed my lips, hating that I was canceling on Zion and Sarai.

But I really can't endure another moment in public right now.

I just want to crawl under my covers and never come out.

"Okay," I suddenly said, deciding I should probably just go home.

"Good girl," Monroe calmly praised, "It's also a lovely rainy day, so I'll have some soup delivered as well," she determined, making my smile annoyingly widen.

"Thank you," I said, letting out a deep sigh as I reached for my seatbelt to buckle.

"Of course, my beautiful girl," she murmured, "We'll stay on the phone until you make it home. I can push my next client if needed."

"No, I don't want to interrupt your work, baby," I pointed out, hating that I was already cutting into her time at the office.

"Start your car, darling," was all Monroe said in response, not going back and forth with me over it.

I sighed softly, pressing the push-to-start button before putting my car in drive.

Hopefully, I don't cut into one of her appointments.

I also hope Maricel doesn't go through with making this all public.

I can only hope.