by Noelle Adams
He started to pound on the door almost immediately. “April, don’t. It didn’t happen like you think it did. Just let me explain. I’m crazy about you. You know I am. What you think happened didn’t happen.”
He was standing there in the hallway in his underwear—still trying to lie to me.
“If you don’t leave right now,” I said through the door, “I’ll call the police.”
Silence from the other side of the door. Then, “I’ll leave for now, but I’m not giving up on this. You have to let me explain.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I’m calling the police right now.”
I wasn’t calling the police, but I would if I had to.
He made a sound like a groan. “I’m leaving for now. I’m so sorry about everything. Please don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
He was still acting concerned, acting like he was worried about me, that I might be so upset I could fall back into my old habits.
He had no right to worry about me.
He had no right to do anything but walk out of my life for good.
Six
“I’M JUST NOT SURE THIS is a good idea, princess.”
I tried to suppress a groan of frustration as I grabbed a couple of shirts from my dresser drawer and stuffed them into the small suitcase I always used for weekend trips. I had my phone on speaker so I could pack while I talked. “Dad, I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. You sound like you’ve been crying.”
I had been crying—for most of the morning until I’d thought of something I could do. “I’m not crying right now. I just need to... to get away for a day or two.”
“But you’re upset. You shouldn’t be by yourself. Why don’t you come and stay with me? Or we can take a little trip. We can go to New York or the Caribbean... or anywhere you want. I can take time off work if you want to stay longer and—”
“Dad, please.” My voice cracked, and I had to pause from packing to sit down on my bed. “I appreciate it. I really do. But I’m... I’m not ready for that yet. Maybe next weekend. Right now I just need to be by myself so I can watch movies and eat ice cream and... and try not to think.” Finding enough energy again, I stood up and went into my closet to grab two thick, cozy sweaters. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. I promise.”
“Why can’t you do that from the city?”
“Because there are three different bars I can walk to in three minutes from here!” My voice was louder now, despite my attempts to stay calm.
“Oh God, princess.” My father’s voice was soft, strained.
“There’s nothing within a half-hour’s drive of the cabin. Please, Dad. I promise I’m not going to do anything stupid. Just let me do this. I need to... get away.”
“Okay.”
“You can call me every few hours to check in. I promise I’ll be okay.”
“Okay.” He paused for a moment before he asked, “Didn’t he have an explanation?”
I swallowed hard, trying not to feel the same pain in my heart I’d been feeling since breakfast with my dad four hours ago. “No explanation would be good enough.”
“Maybe not. But what did he say?”
I’d thrown all the clothes I could think of into my suitcase, so I started to zip it. “He didn’t say anything. I didn’t let him. I couldn’t hear any more of his lies.”
“You didn’t even let him explain?” For the first time, my dad sounded something other than worried and sympathetic.
“What explanation could possibly make this better? He was using me—lying to me—because... because you’re rich!”
“Maybe. It does seem that way. But what if there’s more to it than that? Don’t you think you should hear him out?”
“I never want to see him again.”
“I know you feel that way right now, but he meant a lot to you. He was... different from all the other guys to you. I know he was.”
I couldn’t speak for a minute as I breathed heavily, trying to hold back more tears. “I... I thought so. But I was wrong.”
“I just don’t understand.” This wasn’t the first time my father had said that since I’d called him up in tears after I’d pushed Henry out. “By all accounts, he’s supposed to be a really decent guy. A good guy—just like the rest of his family. Everyone says so.”
I’d thought the same thing too. I’d thought he was better than any guy I’d ever known. I’d trusted him more than anyone else in the world besides my father.
I’d even let go of some of the control I’d worked so hard to achieve.
“Well, everyone was wrong,” I rasped.
“Maybe when you get back from the cabin, you’ll feel more up to talking to him. I know you don’t want to now, but at least it would give you some closure. What if there’s more to the story than you’re understanding right now?”
For some reason my dad’s kind, patient words struck a chord inside me. I’d been reacting on instinct. Anger. Betrayal. Mostly fear. But my dad was right. This was a wound, and if I didn’t at least talk to Henry, the wound might stay open and bleeding for the rest of my life.
“April?” my dad prompted when I didn’t say anything.
“Yeah. Yeah, you might be right. When I get back, maybe I’ll...” I couldn’t finish the sentence because it hurt so much to think about seeing Henry again, talking to Henry again, being once more taken in by his deep eyes and adorable smile.
All of it completely fake.
“All right,” my dad said. “That sounds good then. You can have your weekend and then talk to him when you get back. Drive safe and call me as soon as you get there.”
“I will. I’ll have to stop by the store first. It’s supposed to snow this evening.” The pantry and freezer of the cabin were always well stocked, but I’d need to pick up some bread, milk, and other fresh items from a market on the way there. “But I’ll call when I get there. I promise.”
“If you don’t, I’ll be calling you.”
“I know you will.” I took a shaky breath. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime, princess.”
IT TOOK TWO AND A HALF hours to drive to the cabin—which was in the woods in the middle of nowhere. I stopped at the closest local market to pick up what I needed, and by the time I reached the cabin, the sky was overcast and forbidding.
I put up my food, called my dad, and went around the cabin, making sure everything was in good working order. Snowflakes were starting to come down as I walked around the small yard, checking the pile of firewood and the backup generator and the shed where we kept outdoor equipment.
Everything was as it should be, so I settled on the couch under a cashmere blanket with a pint of ice cream. By the time my first movie was over, three or four inches of snow had already fallen.
According to the weather app on my phone, this area was supposed to get up to a foot of snow by tonight.
Which was perfect. It would feel like I was totally cut off from the world—like nothing out there could ever get to me, could ever hurt me.
Not even Henry and all his lies.
I distracted myself by making a pot of stew with beef and vegetables. I’d just left it to simmer when my phone chirped with a text.
I frowned as I saw it was from my dad. Don’t be mad at me.
I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. I replied, What?
You need to hear what he has to say.
I sat breathing unevenly as emotion rose inside me at the thought of Henry. I’d been doing okay before my dad brought up the subject again. I had no idea why he was doing so. I told you I’d talk to him when I get back.
I know.
Baffled by this strange conversation, I just sent back a smiley face.
My dad was worried.
It was nice to know he loved me.
I hadn’t known it when I was younger, but I knew it now.
I was rereading my dad’s texts, try
ing to figure out what was going through his head, when I heard a car on the gravel driveway.
Gasping, I ran to the window, a flare of fear shooting through me. No one should be here. The snow was already piling up, and this was private property.
I was alone here.
I made sure the door was locked before I peered out the window. I didn’t recognize the SUV. Who the hell was here? I couldn’t see through the snow falling down to who was sitting in the driver’s seat.
The car parked behind mine, and in a minute someone got out.
A man.
A man in jeans and a brown coat.
My heart was racing now as the man turned toward the cabin. He was going to come in. I couldn’t see his face.
We kept a gun in a safe in the bedroom here. I knew how to use it. I was about to run get it when the man took a few steps closer and I could suddenly see who it was.
Henry.
I still couldn’t see his face clearly, but I recognized his coat, his stance, the way that he walked.
Henry.
My father’s texts suddenly made perfect sense.
There was no other way Henry would have known where I was unless my father had told him.
I was stunned, dazed, frozen in place as Henry walked up to the front door.
Then he was knocking.
Don’t be mad at me, my dad had said.
I wanted to howl in outrage. Henry couldn’t be here. I’d decided in vague theory that I might have a conversation with him when I got back to the city, but I couldn’t talk to him right now.
But he was here.
Standing on the stoop.
Knocking again because I hadn’t answered the first time.
I still couldn’t move.
“April, please!” he called out, loud enough for me to hear inside. “Let me in!”
I was shaking. I couldn’t possibly stop.
“April, I know you’re there. You father told me where you were, and I can see your car. Please let me in! I’m getting snowed on!”
For no good reason, it was the last sentence that finally broke my stupor. I strode to the door and threw it open. I snarled at him. “You deserve to get snowed on! It would serve you right if I left you out there to freeze!”
Henry blinked, his hair and coat covered with snow. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I would deserve it.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you, and this is where you are.” His eyes had run up and down my body, and now they were searching my face. “Why are you all the way out here by yourself?”
“Because I want to be. Where I am and what I’m doing is none of your business.”
“It feels like my business.”
“Well, you feel wrong then.”
A gust of wind suddenly blew in through the doorway, causing a flurry of snow to whip against me. I gasped and wiped the moisture off my face.
“Can I please come in?”
I groaned in absolute frustration and stepped aside to let him in.
“I’m letting you in because it’s snowing out there,” I said, pleased that my voice was bitter but not broken. “I don’t want to talk to you, Henry.”
“Why won’t you let me explain?” He was brushing off his hair and coat and leaving snow to melt on the entryway floor.
“Because it’s my choice what I do and who I talk to. You don’t get to force your will on me just because you want to.”
Something flickered across his face, hurt and surprise. He rubbed his face and then met my eyes. “April. You think I’m forcing my will on you?”
He looked almost hurt, like he couldn’t believe I was thinking something like that of him.
And the worst thing was it made me feel guilty.
Me. Guilty.
After what he’d done to me.
“You’re here when I don’t want you to be here,” I burst out. “You came when I clearly told you to stay away from me. You’re here against my will. What else would you call this?”
He stared at me for a long moment, and then something seemed to crack in his face. He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry, April. I’m so sorry I hurt you so much.”
He seemed so real. All of this seemed so real.
He’d seemed so real the whole time I’d known him.
He’d seemed so real when he was making love to me last night.
But none of it was real.
“Well, you did,” I managed to say.
He was silent for a long time. “Do you want me to go then?”
I was breathing heavily, having to fight for control over my emotions. “You can’t go. There’s supposed to be a foot of snow by the time it stops.”
“I live in the Alps, April,” he said softly. “I can drive in the snow.”
I was tempted. Really tempted to send him on his way.
But all it took was the briefest thought of how I would feel if something happened to him as he tried to drive back in this snow.
I shook my head. “No. There’s too much snow now for it to be safe. You can stay.”
His face relaxed.
“I’m not agreeing to talk to you,” I said quickly. “You can stay, but don’t expect a long, cozy chat in front of the fire.”
“Okay,” he murmured. The snow was melting on his hair, and he brushed the moisture away impatiently. “I won’t try to talk until you’re ready.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.” My long braid had fallen over my right shoulder, and I tugged on it absently, thinking about how it had felt when my hair was loose and free in bed with Henry last night.
It had felt like all of me was free.
“Oh, schatzi,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” In his eyes was something that looked so much like tenderness.
I’d looked up that word last week. It was a German endearment like sweetheart. I drew back quickly, like I’d been struck. “Don’t you ever call me that again.”
THERE WERE TWO BEDROOMS in the cabin, and I showed Henry into the second one. There was only one bathroom, which would be awkward, but there was nothing I could do about that.
I couldn’t send him out in this kind of snow.
I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him.
Hopefully he could leave tomorrow.
Henry was obviously trying to be good. He didn’t say anything unless I spoke first, and he didn’t bombard me with questions and reproaches like I was afraid he would.
A lot of guys would have done so. They would have taken advantage of our being trapped together to force a conversation, just like he could have forced his way back into my apartment this morning when I’d kicked him out.
Henry wasn’t like that.
It was a startling revelation—coming in such a situation. But I knew it was true.
Despite the way he’d deceived me, I knew there was something genuinely decent at the heart of him.
The knowledge just made me feel even worse, made me want him even more.
We ate the stew I’d made with some bread and cheese, and Henry didn’t talk even then. He watched me the whole time, his eyes searching my face, looking for signs of something.
Signs of what, I didn’t know.
The meal seemed to stretch on forever, and finally I couldn’t bear the silence or his searching looks anymore.
I released a frustrated, wordless sound.
He jerked slightly, clearly surprised. He’d almost finished his bowl of stew, and now he put his spoon down.
“What possible explanation could you have that would make this okay?” I burst out. I hadn’t realized I was going to speak until I actually did.
He didn’t look defensive or put on the spot or annoyed by my tone. If anything, he looked relieved. “It might not make it okay,” he said softly, “but I do have an explanation.”
I’d finished all I could eat of my bowl, so I pushed it away from me and took a long sip of water. “So what is it?”
&nbs
p; “I...” He cleared his throat, and at first I thought he was stalling for something persuasive to say. But then I saw his eyelids flicker, and I realized that wasn’t it.
He was emotional. His voice had broken with emotion.
The realization made my heart leap.
After clearing this throat, he started again, speaking soft and slow. “I wanted us to get to know each other for real.”
“For real? When you weren’t telling me the truth?”
“For real.” He met my eyes evenly, almost challenging. “Not because I’m a prince or because your father is rich. I wanted us to know each other for real. Just for who we really are.”
The most ridiculous thing was that I believed him. Immediately. Instinctively. He was telling me the truth.
And I could almost understand.
All my life, guys had wanted me for who they thought I was—a rich girl, an easy girl, a girl who would make them look cool to their friends, a girl who would get drunk and fuck them in any way they wanted.
I’d always dreamed of someone who would want me for me—and Henry was the only one I’d believed really did.
Even as I felt myself softening, my mind filled in the other side of the coin. I straightened up with a jerk and glared at him. “Right. You wanted me to know you for real, but you didn’t give me the same option.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I didn’t know you were a prince, but you knew exactly who I was the whole time. It wasn’t even. It wasn’t equal.”
He nodded, swallowing so hard I could see it in his throat. “You’re right. I’m sorry, April. And all I can say is that, even though I knew who you were, it was never about that for me. I know you for real. I want you for real.”
I wanted to hear the words so much I was practically leaning into them, but something was still holding me back. I shook my head for a long time before I was able to speak. “How am I supposed to believe you?”
“Because you know me. You know me. Everything between us was genuine, and you know it in your heart. I’m telling you the truth.”
I kept shaking my head. I couldn’t seem to stop.
He made a soft groan and dropped his head on his hands for a minute. “I’ve lived my life with everyone wanting to be near me just because I’m a prince. We’re not rich. At all. Your dad has way more money than we do. And I’ve never been special in any way. I’m just a regular, boring, vanilla guy—exactly as I told you. But all people could see was this invisible crown on my head. All girls wanted to be was my princess. My sisters...” He stopped to clear his throat again, his features twisting briefly in a way that proved he was struggling with emotion again. “My sisters all managed to find someone who wanted them for real, and I wanted the same thing.”