So, as my heart shatters, I focus on my child. This kid is like a pulsing light inside me—the one thing that I can hang on to, the one thing that will bring me joy when everything else in my life turns to ash.
31
Charlie
As Olivia lifts my arm up in the air and flashes a smile at the crowd below, my stomach does another horrible flip. I wonder what the headlines would say if I threw up right now?
Prince Charlie Throws Up on Wife-to-Be
Does Prince Charlie Puke of Happiness… or Disgust?
Engagement Induces Projectile Vomiting
Maybe it would be worth it just to wipe that triumphant smirk off Olivia’s face. But then my thoughts turn to Elle, and that medical record that my father somehow acquired.
Is Elle seeing this on TV? Does she believe it? Does she think I don’t want the baby?
I don’t know how I’ll do it yet, but I need to get out of this. I need to find a way to get my father to release me from this engagement.
If I walk away from Olivia Brundle, my father will refuse to name me his heir and he’ll release the information about Elle’s pregnancy. I wouldn’t mind that, really—but I know it would be crushing for Elle. The press can be vicious, and I don’t want to put her in that position. I don’t want to put our baby in that position.
Not only that—if I walk away now, I’m putting Damon or Gabriel in line for the throne, and I know they don’t want it. Damon would do it, sure, and he’d be a good King, but I’d be making him give up his dreams for me. I can’t do that to my brother.
But if I agree to marry Olivia, I’m turning my back on Elle—and our baby.
I disengage my hand from Olivia’s and turn back to the door. As soon as I’m inside again, I nod to the guards at the balcony doors. “Close the balcony doors.”
“Charlie...” Olivia starts to say before I raise a hand to stop her.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Excuse me? What am I supposed to call you?” She laughs, frowning. Does she still not understand that my father is using us both? Does she think I want this?
Olivia takes a step toward me. “We’re engaged to be married. Do you really think it’s appropriate to call you by your formal title?”
“I think it’s appropriate to treat me like your fucking Prince,” I answer, turning to face her. My shoulders stiffen and my face gets darker. Olivia takes a step back, her arms falling to her sides.
My father is already making comments about little heirs, and the thought of having sex with this woman is repulsive to me. No part of me wants to touch her.
She’s an attractive woman, sure, but she’s not for me. She’s not Elle.
My father enters the room, smirking. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? I’m glad you came around.”
“I did it for Elle and my brothers, not for you. This isn’t over.”
“But you did it,” the King says, stepping up to me. His chest puffs up and I resist the urge to punch him in his smug fucking face. He thinks he’s won, but I’ll find a way out of this. I have to.
As if he reads my mind, he starts to chuckle. “There’s no slithering your way out of this one, Charles. You will marry Miss Brundle, and you’ll make lots of happy little heirs. You’ll forget about the girl in the lake.”
My eyes narrow. “Don’t—”
“Don’t what? Hurt her? Don’t give me a reason to hurt her.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “After that little stunt with Dahlia Raventhal, I had Talin keep an eye on you. You’ve always liked a woman who doesn’t know her place, haven’t you?”
I know he’s talking about my mother, and how she’d speak up for the people of Grimdale and the less fortunate of Farcliff. She wasn’t the smiling arm candy he’d wanted, and he hated her for it. I’m starting to wonder if Tabitha Raventhal’s accusations had any truth to them after all.
Now, my father’s making sure that I play by his rules.
The King takes another step toward me, his chest puffing out like a gorilla. “If I even get a whiff of scandal from you, Charles, I won’t name you my heir. You’ll be nobody. Try making your way in the world out there when you aren’t the Crown Prince—I dare you. You need me just as much as I need you, and for once, I expect you to obey.”
“Fuck you.”
The King laughs. “Oh, and Charlie? The cabinet is meeting about the Farcliff Dam Project next week. As far as you’re concerned, it’s a great thing for the Kingdom, understood? No grandstanding about fucking Grimdale.”
“What? What does this have to do with anything? It’s not a great thing for the Kingdom. It’ll displace twelve million people from Grimdale to… where? Where will they go?”
“One word out of your insolent mouth, and that little medical record gets leaked.”
My chest heaves. Anger threatens to explode out of me in all directions, and I can’t take it anymore. I push past the King and knock a guard to the ground as I storm out. I hear my father call out to let me go, and I hate that he has this much control over me. He has to hold our own guards back from me.
As soon as I’m out of the room, I jog down the castle hallways toward the garage. I need to see Elle. I need to talk to her and to make sure she’s okay. I need to explain—but how? How can I explain this? How can I make this right?
I jump on my bike and fly down the roads. My hands grip the motorcycle as I accelerate faster, faster, faster. I run a red light and a chorus of honks follows me down the road.
I don’t care. I need to see the woman I love.
Practically crashing the bike outside her house, I skid to a stop and jump off it, running to the front door. My fist bangs on it as I yell through the window. The door shakes in its frame as I pound it harder.
“Elle! Elle! Answer the door.” I try the doorknob and finding it open, I rush inside. Dahlia appears in the hallway and says something I don’t hear. I burst through Elle’s bedroom door and find her huddled in bed, crying.
She scrambles up when I enter, wiping her face and clutching the blankets to her chest. “Charlie—Your Highness—what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” I sit down on the bed, reaching for her. She shies away from me and my hand freezes in midair. I let it drop. “I… How are you feeling?”
“Fantastic.”
I almost laugh. Even at a time like this, she’s biting and sarcastic and everything I want in a woman.
I take a deep breath and stare into her eyes, hoping, praying that she understands. “Elle, I don’t want to marry that girl. My father ambushed me. He knows about the baby. He somehow got a hold of your medical record and he knows you’re pregnant. I’ll find a way out of this, Elle, I promise. I want you. Not her. Not Olivia.”
Elle stares at me for a moment before dropping her eyes. She brushes another tear away and then takes a deep breath. When she lifts her face back up to meet my gaze, her eyes are so full of sadness it knocks me back.
Despite the pain in her gaze, her voice is strong. “It was never going to work between us, Charlie. We both knew it all along.”
“You’re carrying my child.”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“It means everything, Charlie.” Her voice cracks. She reaches over and clasps my hand. “But you’re from a different world than I am. I’ll never belong up there at the castle.”
A lump forms in my throat. She’s pushing me away. She doesn’t want to fight this—not like I want to fight it. She’s letting my father win. “No, Elle, it’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that. You’re engaged to be married, Charlie.” Her voice chokes and she takes a deep, shuddering breath. “We both knew this would happen. We both knew you’d have to marry someone suitable, otherwise you’re handing the responsibility over to your brothers. We’ve talked about this. I’m not fit to be a Queen.”
“You are.” Tears spill onto my cheeks and I squeeze her hand. “You’d be a better Queen
than any of those ‘suitable’ girls, Elle.”
She laughs bitterly. “Maybe so, but that’s not how the world sees it.” She puts a hand to her stomach. “We’ll be fine, the baby and me. I’ll figure it out.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No, I refuse to accept this. You can’t just shut me out like that. That’s my child growing inside you. I want it. I want you.”
“Do you, though? I saw your reaction at the lake.” She shakes her head. “Charlie, think about it. It’s too complicated. I’ll never be your wife. I’ll just be a scandal waiting to erupt. I’ll never be accepted into the royal family, and I’ll never be Queen. You shouldn’t be here. I’m just leverage for your father to use against you…or whoever else wants to hurt you.”
“Elle…”
“Just go, Charlie. There’s no future between us. There never was.” She turns her head away from me and all I want to do is jump and scream. I want to make her see that there is a future. There has to be. Without her…
…there’s nothing.
“There can be a future.” My voice breaks on the last word. I refuse to let go of her hand. She’s cold and trembling, and I know she doesn’t mean what she’s saying. She can’t. I won’t accept it. I won’t walk away from her.
Elle shakes her head but doesn’t pull her hand away. Her eyes meet mine and my heart breaks.
She takes a deep breath. “How? How can there be a future? Are you going to announce that you’re marrying your pregnant girlfriend? Who’s not only from Grimdale, but she doesn’t even know who her real parents are? How would you get your father to agree to that? Huh? There’s no way, Charlie. This has gone on long enough. It’s time for us to be honest about this.”
She pulls her hand away and turns her head, squeezing her eyes shut. I already know this is over. I know she’s right, but I can’t just walk away.
“Elle…”
“I care about you,” she says softly, not meeting my eye. “You’ve given me so much that I never thought I’d have. You made me feel beautiful and special… thank you.”
“Don’t say that, Elle. You are beautiful and special and I lov—”
“You should go.” She lays down with her back to me, pulling her blankets up to her chin. “Go and be with your fiancée. Do your duty. Be a King.”
“I don’t want to be King, Elle. I want you. I want our baby.”
She turns to look at me, her cheeks soaked with tears. I try to brush them away, but she stops my hand. “It doesn’t matter what you want, Charlie. Don’t you understand? It doesn’t matter what either of us want. This is the world we live in. You’re the Crown Prince, and I’m nobody. It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Don’t say that, Elle, I—”
“Just go. Please, Charlie. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
The door opens and Dahlia appears. She nods to me and I freeze. I can’t go. I can’t leave her. I can’t walk away—but I know she’s right.
I was born into a life of privilege, and that comes with responsibility. My life was never my own. My mother taught me that. Elle understands it, and it’s time for me to get it through my own thick head.
I can never have Elle, because she doesn’t come from the same world as I do. If I choose her, I turn my back on my brothers, on my Kingdom, on my duty. If I choose her, I might even be putting her and our baby in danger.
I don’t know what my father is capable of, but I do know that he’s a vindictive, power-hungry piece of shit. The only way I can protect Elle is by turning my back on her.
When I walk out of that room, I leave something behind. A piece of my heart stays lodged with Elle, and I know I’ll never get it back. For as long as I live, my heart will never be whole again.
She may be right—I need to be who I was born to be—but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever be the same. When Dahlia closes the front door behind me, the lock slides shut and I know I’ve lost the only person I’ve ever truly loved.
32
Elle
I know that was the right thing to do, but it feels awful. Every word that came out of my mouth when Charlie was sitting on my bed sounded wrong. I wanted to take them all back and throw my arms around him, pretending that it would work out.
It won’t, though.
We can’t be together. It’s time we admitted it to ourselves—it was never meant to be. I rub my hand over my stomach and squeeze my eyes shut, curling myself into a tight ball.
“At least you gave me this baby, Charlie,” I whisper. Even if I can’t have the Prince, I can have his child. It’s terrifying, and I know it won’t be easy—but it feels right.
All the love I have inside me and all the love that Charlie showed me, I can give it to this baby. I’ll love my child with my entire heart and soul.
I hear Charlie’s motorcycle rev outside and then he drives away.
It’s over.
I thought my heart was already broken, but hearing him drive away shatters it all over again. I roll onto my back and inhale, but I can’t get enough air into my lungs. My face twists into an ugly sob, but no sound comes out. My body convulses and I curl my hands into the blankets as my whole body is racked with sharp, piercing daggers of pain.
He’s gone, and I know it’s forever.
Dahlia’s footsteps stop outside my door and a soft knock follows. “You okay?”
I can’t breathe, so I can’t answer. Dahlia knows. She comes in and wraps her arms around me, rocking me back and forth as I cry harder than I ever have before. I shake and sob until her shirt is drenched with my tears.
“You did the right thing, Elle. I’m proud of you.”
I tremble and snort, wiping my tears and snot and grief on the blankets. “I wish… I don’t know what I wish. I wish I wasn’t from Grimdale.”
“If you weren’t exactly who you are, the Prince wouldn’t have loved you,” she said softly. “You are who you are for a reason, Elle, and I don’t ever want you to change.”
“It just sucks.”
Dahlia chuckles, stroking my hair as I lay back down on the pillows. “Yes, it sucks. A lot of things suck.”
I sniffle. “He wanted the baby.”
“Of course he did, silly. He loves you.”
“Don’t say that, Dahlia.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I don’t want to hear it. It makes it hurt so much more that we can’t be together.”
Dahlia sighs and lays down in bed beside me. We both stare at the ceiling in silence. “Maybe if we get rid of the King, he won’t need that stupid heir naming ceremony, and Charlie can choose you instead of Olivia Brundle.”
“Get rid of? Are you suggesting murder? Regicide?”
Dahlia sighs. “No, I mean… I don’t know what I mean. I don’t want to kill anyone. This isn’t right, though.”
I laugh, and Dahlia grins. She elbows me. “It was just an idea.”
“Not the kind of idea I want to entertain. I don’t want to live the rest of my life in prison.”
She sighs. “I know. It just seems so wrong that you can’t be together because of some stupid tradition, and because the King doesn’t want to give up the throne when he’s supposed to.”
“We can’t change it, Dahl. It is what it is.”
“It’s the twenty-first century. We shouldn’t need stupid betrothal traditions. Everyone should be able to choose who they want to marry. You, me, the Prince—everyone.”
“But we can’t.”
We’re silent for a while, and I feel empty. Dahlia turns on her side and glances down at my stomach. “What does it feel like?”
“What, pregnancy?”
“Yeah.”
I shrug. “I get nauseous sometimes. My boobs hurt.”
“I can’t believe you won the regatta while two months pregnant.”
I grin. “I know.”
“That’s badass.”
“Hopefully my kid will be proud of me.”
“Of course it will. Do you want a boy o
r a girl?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Dahlia asks me a thousand and one questions about babies and pregnancy and my plans until I forget that my heart is in pieces and that I can’t have the one man I’ve fallen in love with.
She talks me down until my eyelids are heavy and I finally fall asleep.
Two days later, I have dinner at Frank and Tina’s and I tell them about the pregnancy.
“Who… Who is the father?” Frank asks as he clears his throat. He doesn’t make eye contact and I know he’s supremely uncomfortable.
“You know who it is, Frank,” I smile. The Prince and I have been having Sunday meals with the Valencias for months, now.
“It’s Prince Charlie, isn’t it?” Tina says, her hawk eyes drilling into mine. “I saw the way he was looking at you.”
I blush and my lower lip trembles.
“And does the Prince know?” Tina asks.
I take a deep breath, ready to deny it again, but I know it’s no use. My parents are staring at me, wide-eyed. I nod. “Yeah, he knows.”
“What did he say?”
“He’s engaged now, Tina. It’s not… It won’t work.”
“Well, tell him to get un-engaged.” Frank grunts. “Next time I see that man…”
“The King chose his fiancée. It’s not as simple as it is for commoners.” I try to sound more confident than I feel.
“Seems simple to me,” Frank grunts. His cheeks have gone bright red and anger flashes in his eyes. “He’s going to turn his back on you?”
“No! He wanted the baby.” I take a deep breath. This is harder than I imagined. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”
Tina stares at me for a few long seconds, as if she’s downloading my brain and analyzing it. Finally, she nods and reaches over to clasp my hand. “You want to keep this baby, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I say, a little more aggressively than I mean to. I put a hand protectively over my stomach.
Tina’s lips twitch into a smile and she nods. “Good. We’ll help you with anything you need. Won’t we, Frank?”
Royally Unexpected: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection Page 17