Something cracked in his expression just before he dipped his head. “Perhaps I was acting out of fear.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you don’t like me. You’ve done little to conceal that you regard me as a necessary inconvenience, no more.”
At hearing her thoughts aloud, she felt a sharp tearing in her chest. True, he’d been exceptionally nice to her, but that didn’t change what she was to him.
“Evelyn.” Her name escaped his mouth slowly, softly, almost as if it pained him. “I don’t like you.” Before the tear ripped more deeply into her chest, he slipped her hand from his shoulder and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, raspy from the dry Colorado air.
The warmth of his lips traveled up her arm before stirring in her chest. “I love you.” Alaric’s gaze held hers expectantly.
Shock swept over her, and her lips parted. “Love?”
He nodded. “And I’m sure your mother will as well.”
Though the words rang in her ears, she half-doubted he’d actually spoken them.
Alaric pulled the car out of park and exited the gas station. She glanced at him, concerned by his silence. Did he regret telling her? Pink warmed his cheeks, tipped his ears.
No, not regret. Embarrassment.
It was unspeakably adorable that Alaric was so shy about telling her how he felt… but he hadn’t just told her how he’d felt; he’d told her he loved her. Once she’d thought love was merely an emotion, but if it were, what did that say about love? That you didn’t love someone anymore when you weren’t happy with them? That love inevitably faded over the years?
But her feelings had changed for Alaric. Did that mean she loved him? Suddenly, she’d felt an unexplainable burst of fondness and attraction toward him. Where had that come from? It had happened recently, sometime during their stay in the motel.
Alaric had been sick—and grumpier than she’d ever seen him. She should have been disgusted by him at this point, not attracted. She thought back to when Alaric had showered, steam smothering the room, vomit drying on her hands and clothes. While sitting on the toilet lid, she’d made a decision: to give up her dream of finding her mother for the sake of protecting Alaric.
And maybe that was all love was. A decision. A choice. A sacrifice.
If that were the case, she did love Alaric. And by risking his crown, by leaving his kingdom, Alaric loved her.
She leaned over to clasp Alaric’s knee. “Alaric?”
His leg tensed before he relaxed beneath her touch. “Yes?”
“I love you too.”
“You don’t have to say it simply because I did.”
“You don’t believe me.” She sat back in her seat, her hand slipping from his knee. His words stung, but after the previous ideas she’d spouted about love, it shouldn’t have been surprising. “You said that you loved me, and I believe you. You know why?”
He raised his eyebrows, his eyes still on the road.
“Because love is sacrifice. You were willing to give up your entire kingdom to save my life, and you were willing to leave it to fulfill my dream. That’s love.” She shifted toward him. “You remember when you were taking a shower?”
He squinted. “Vaguely.”
“I thought about leaving.”
His shoulders went rigid.
“But do you know what I decided?”
He paused for a moment before answering, “To stay.”
“Yes. I was willing to give up my dream and my freedom for you. That’s love.”
Alaric stopped at a red light, their seatbelts straining against their torsos as their weight shifted. He twisted to face her, setting his elbow on the console.
She leaned toward him, poking him in the chest. “I—” poke “—love—” poke “—you.”
Before she could poke him again, he pressed her hand against his chest. His heart thrummed erratically beneath her fingers. The warmth of his gaze washed over her, sending a pleasant wave of tingles down her skin.
He leaned over the console, and his lips grazed her ear. “I believe you.”
She rested her forehead against his collarbone, unable to suppress a shiver.
Alaric’s hand cupped her jaw as he guided her face up toward his. All breath escaped her as her eyes slid shut.
A car horn blared behind them, and Alaric snatched his hand back before pressing the accelerator pedal. The force pressed her back against the seat.
Despite the interruption, Evelyn couldn’t hide a giddy smile. “So we both love each other.”
Deep, slightly husky laughter poured from his lips. “I suppose so.”
“Which means that we will have a loving marriage.”
Alaric slid his hand over hers, their fingers meshing. “So we will.”
Now if only her mom could love her like Alaric did, everything would be perfect.
22
A Mother’s Love
Evelyn was simultaneously sinking in her seat while straining to peer over the dashboard and catch a glimpse of the Cracker Barrel. “What happens if she does like me? And she wants me to stay?”
His brows creased. “On Earth?”
“Yeah.”
“I want you to be happy, Evelyn, but I also want you safe and—selfishly—by my side. Perhaps your mother can be persuaded to come with us to Torva. Or we can arrange for you to visit her regularly.”
“And if she doesn’t like me?”
He squeezed her hand. “As stated previously, I’m certain she will adore you, but should she be fool enough not to, perhaps we can linger on Earth until you feel better.”
“What about the Scorpio? I expected to hear from them sooner, honestly.”
“Perhaps we’ve lost them.”
But he didn’t sound convinced—and neither was she.
“There are safe houses throughout the country,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe to the very best of my abilities.”
After he turned left at the next intersection, the white and brown Cracker Barrel sign peeped above the treetops. Evelyn caught her breath as cold flashed over her palms. She swiped them against her dress. Maybe she should have gone with something more form-fitting to make her look older. Or maybe the dress itself was too much, and it screamed desperation.
Who was she kidding? She was desperate. She’d spent most of her life hoping her mom would be the one to take her in and love her as her father never had.
Evelyn drew a deep breath, retreating into her Room. She knelt beside the end table and pulled out the box. Within the box was the blurred picture of herself and her mother. After today, her memory would fill in the details of that image, making it crisp and clear.
Just thinking about it filled her with excitement and anxiety. Would she have her mother’s hair? Her eyes? Her smile?
“Evelyn?”
She blinked, resurfacing to reality. He’d already parked in front of the store. Her mother was inside there somewhere. Evelyn forced breath through her gritted teeth. She could do this. She opened her car door and stood on wobbling legs, her hand gripping the door handle with pale knuckles. Though the weather was mild, she was shivering.
Alaric slammed his car door shut and rounded to her side. “Are you ready to go in?”
She nodded. “I think so.”
“You’ll have to release the car door first.” A small smile curved his lips. “You could always cling to me instead.”
A bout of unladylike laughter barreled past her lips. “Are you flirting with me?”
His smile broadened, showing a flash of his white teeth. “How am I doing so far?”
“Not too shabby.” She pried her hand from the handle and offered it to Alaric. Only when he clasped it did she realize how clammy her hand was in comparison. She ducked her head as heat flared in her cheeks. “Sorry I’m so sweaty.”
Alaric drew her toward him before slamming the car door behind her. “I don’t mind. And to be fair, it’s nothing compared to you somehow wrangling me into a shower while I was coa
ted in vomit.” He squeezed her hand once and led her onto the sidewalk.
Alaric released her hand to hold the door open for her. Though her breath still fluttered in her lungs, the constricting knot of nerves in her stomach had eased. If Alaric had been trying to distract her, he’d succeeded.
Rusty tools shone dimly beneath the bright beams of light, dangling above racks of floral clothing, tables cluttered with decorative paraphernalia, and shelves of candy. With Alaric’s hands in hers, they both walked to the front.
“Table for two,” Alaric said.
The woman’s apron read Jane with four golden stars shimmering above. “Perfect! We have a table ready for you.” She gestured a waitress over. “Show these two to their tables, please.” She leaned toward the waitress to whisper, “And don’t spill anything.” Despite her quiet voice, her tone was harsh enough to carry to anyone nearby.
“Excuse me, my l—” Alaric paused, and Evelyn stifled a snicker. If he called her “my lady,” that was sure to raise a few eyebrows. Alaric cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Might I ask you a question?”
“You already did, but go ahead.”
“Do you know Charity Burk?”
Charity Burk? Not Veralyn, like it said in her locket? Perhaps her mother had changed her name to better hide from her father.
Jane arched her unnaturally dark eyebrows. “Maybe. Why?”
Alaric cupped Evelyn’s shoulder. “This is her daughter. They’ve been separated for years, and she was hoping to meet her mother today.”
The woman bent closer, her rectangular glasses sliding down her nose. “Oh. I can see the resemblance.” She clapped her hands. “Wonderful! I’ll ask Charity. In the meantime, I hope you two enjoy your meal.”
The waitress cleared her throat and, with a plump hand, gestured for them to follow. She seated them at a table, placed against a latticework divider.
After distributing the paper menus, she clicked her pen, holding it above her notepad. “Drinks?”
Evelyn smiled. “Water, please.” The nausea was slowly creeping back, and she didn’t think she could stomach anything sugary.
Alaric nodded. “I’ll have the same, thank you.”
With a nod, the woman bustled away.
“Evelyn?” He reached across the table to touch her fingers. Only now did she realize they were trembling. “Are you well?”
She pulled her hands away and tucked them beneath the table. “Just nervous.”
Alaric nodded.
After a half-hour, the waitress had delivered their drinks, only spilling one of them, set down a plate of biscuits, and delivered their food.
Steam wafted up from her platter of chicken and dumplings, but her appetite had vanished. Alaric’s brows rippled with concern, but instead of urging her to eat, he lightly pressed his foot against hers.
She thrust her lips into a smile before chasing a dumpling around her plate with her fork.
“You were the ones looking for Charity?”
Evelyn’s attention snapped to the employee—Jane. “Yes.” Her voice was so breathless it was nearly inaudible.
“She says she’ll meet you out back, after her shift.”
“When does her shift end?”
“Seven.”
Evelyn glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s barely noon.”
“She likes to keep busy. Says it keeps her brain from overloading. Hope you enjoy your little reunion.” Jane turned and marched away, giving their waitress a stern look as she passed her.
Evelyn straightened in her chair and scanned the restaurant. What if her mom were one of the waitresses? What did she even look like? Would Evelyn recognize her? But none of the aprons read, Charity.
She sank back into her seat. “Now what?”
“Now we wait.”
They finished eating, browsed the gift shop, and checked into a La Quinta hotel room.
It felt like a week had passed since this morning, when Alaric had gotten better, when they’d packed up and left, when Alaric had said he’d loved her. Evelyn clutched Alaric’s hand, and his thumb swept across her skin, leaving a rush of warmth in the wake of his touch.
And now they were parked at the back of the Cracker Barrel. Waiting.
Each breath came fast and hard, syncing with the throb of her heartbeat. Her fingers drummed against the door. She wasn’t sure whether she should be quivering with nerves or bouncing with excitement.
Movement caught her eyes, and Evelyn glanced in the side mirror. A green door swung open, and she held her breath. It could be anyone.
But as the door swung shut, the ebbing sunlight revealed a woman with blond-brown hair. The woman folded her arms and leaned against the building, her gaze swerving around the parking lot. She was looking for someone.
Before Evelyn could second-guess herself, she thumbed the door lock and stepped out.
Her mother’s gaze found her, and her mother held completely still.
Evelyn shut the car door behind her as Alaric got out of his side. “I’ll stay here,” he said. “Go greet your mother.”
Evelyn nodded, not tearing her eyes from the woman in front of her. As she walked forward, each step felt klutzy, jarring her entire body. It was almost like she’d forgotten how to walk. Yep. Her mother would totally be impressed by her toddling daughter.
Evelyn stopped in front of her, a blush searing her face. “Mom?”
The woman pushed off the wall and squinted, wrinkling the corners of her eyes. She was taller than Evelyn but shorter than her father or Kimberly. Finally, the woman nodded.
Evelyn flung her arms around her mother’s waist. “I–I’ve been looking for you.”
Her mother stiffened beneath her touch before drawing Evelyn’s arms away. She swallowed her hurt. Not quite the response she’d been looking for. Her mother stared into her eyes, not moving or speaking.
She looked older than her father, with strands of silver in her blond hair and fine lines flaring at the corners of her eyes. But she was beautiful—from her straight, aristocratic nose to the startling pale blue of her eyes.
And Evelyn loved her.
“You really are her.” Her mother pursed her lips. “With Kimberly’s red hair, I was hoping your coloring would end up closer to mine.”
Evelyn fingered a lock of her hair. “Well, I dyed it actually. The box said semi-permanent, but it’s been a few months, and the color hasn’t completely faded yet. I’m hoping to be back to my dirty blond once this completely fades.”
Her mother finally cracked a smile. “That’s another thing we have in common aside from hair color.”
“What?”
“We both jabber when we’re nervous.”
Evelyn laughed, even as her face heated. “Sorry about that.”
Her mother crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. “It’s fine, kid. So how ya doing? How’s your old man treating you?”
Before Evelyn could even think to reply, her expression said it for her—in the tightening of her eyes, the setting of her jaw, and the pursing of her lips.
“Yeah, I thought so.” Her mother massaged her scalp before loosening it from its sloppy bun. “He’s why I left.”
If her mother had known her father was so bad, why’d she leave Evelyn with him? But she didn’t want to know the answer quite yet, lest it disturb the fragile peace between them. “Was it worth it? To run away with the man you loved?”
Her mother snorted. “Loved? I don’t know about that.”
Evelyn jerked back, examining her mother from her dark blond scalp to her scuffed black shoes. “You didn’t love him?”
“I certainly liked… doing certain activities with him. More so than with the other guy. But what is love, anyway? You see it in movies, hear it in songs, read it in books, but where is it? Huh? The harder you try to grab it, the quicker it slips through your fingers.”
Her mother’s words chilled her. How could she not believe in love? “Love is everywhere, Mom.” Her mother flinch
ed at the title, but Evelyn continued, “It’s a simple act of kindness from one person to another.”
Her smile was tight-lipped. “That’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“I envy that view of yours, kid. That relentless optimism. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss, but once you grow up a bit, you’re in for a rude awakening. That’s what happened to me.” She ran her fingers through her hair, until it tumbled down her shoulders in waves. “In the end, love and kindness are really just different shades of selfishness. There’s really no point to them.”
Evelyn’s body went lax with shock, her arms hanging limply at her sides. “You don’t love anyone then?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Do you think you could love me?”
Her mother mashed her lips together so hard they paled. “You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it has to be. We can still have a friendly relationship, you know.”
Her throat felt tight and hard. “But the locket.” She fished it out from beneath her dress collar and held it up to the dying sunlight. “You gave me the locket.”
Her eyes softened—or maybe that was a trick of the setting sun. “That was just an apology. I’m sorry I had to leave you like I did, with him… but not that I left. I needed to cut loose from my old life.”
Evelyn pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry.
“Now, there’s no need to get all teary about this.” Her mother hesitated before clasping Evelyn’s shoulder. “Look, kid, I hope you live a good, happy life, and enjoy that man of yours while he sticks around.” She squinted toward Alaric in the dimming light. “What did you say his name was again?”
Hot tears blurred her eyes, and with a blink, her vision cleared. She knew they were trickling down her cheeks, but she was too numb to feel them. “Alaric.”
Her mother’s face paled, the whiteness of her skin glowing beneath the streetlight.
“The King?” A rush of Torvan expletives left her mouth. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Not for a cute little mother-daughter reunion.”
Evelyn swiped the heel of her palm against her wet cheek. “I–I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
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