by Amy DeLuca
“Alex,” she whispered. She looked like she was fighting tears.
“I want to make up for lost time—with AJ and with you. I want us to be together, the three of us. Do you have passports? If not, I know someone who can expedite them for you.”
Alex rattled off plans a mile a minute, his voice—and his heart—filled with excitement and certainty.
That was when he noticed Cinda didn’t look so certain.
And she hadn’t said she loved him back.
Twenty-Two
Impossible Dream
“Alex, wait. Stop. Listen to me.”
He stopped talking and watched Cinda intently. She took a deep breath and let it out, gathering her thoughts. She had to say this right.
She had to make things clear to him if there was ever to be any hope of them co-parenting AJ successfully.
After calming down, she’d spent the day thinking about it and kept coming back to the same conclusion—AJ’s life would be better with Alex in it. But they’d never be a real family.
Alex could be a sort of… enhancement to AJ’s life, an occasional visitor, and perhaps someday when AJ was grown, even a friend and mentor.
But sharing custody would be as far as things could go between her and Alex. She had no interest in being a “royal consort” or whatever fancy name the citizens of Aubernesse would label their relationship.
“The thing is,” she said, “time has passed. We’re not the kids we were back then. We’ve changed. Both of us.”
Alex’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Do you not feel the same then? I thought maybe… when you kissed me like that on the island…”
“I got… carried away. Anyway, feelings are not the issue. But there are lots of others.”
She extracted her hand from his once more and rose to pace the room.
“Think about it. You live in a different country. You’re a royal. I’m just a regular girl from Newport. I was a maid when you met me, for goodness sake. Remember how you used to tell me we couldn’t act like a couple when your parents were at the beach club? Now I get why. They’re not going to approve of me any more now than they would have back then. Less, probably. I’m a commoner, a single mom. Besides, I have a company to run here in Newport. I have friends here and family depending on me.”
He smiled. “All of that can be worked out. My family will get over it—in time. Perhaps they’ll even be thrilled. My mother’s always on my back about producing a royal heir. As it turns out I’ve already got one—AJ. And as far as your work, I have more money than anyone could spend in several lifetimes. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my son. Did you think I would just shirk my obligations?”
At the suggestion that she place her son’s future and her own security in his hands, Cinda balked.
“We’re not ‘obligations.’ We’re people. People who have lives and minds of our own.”
Alex backtracked immediately, coming off the couch in a swift move and approaching her with hands held in the surrender pose.
“I know that. That came out all wrong. I’m just excited. I feel like a starving man who’s just been dropped into a warehouse full of food. I can tell you don’t like the idea of relying on someone. I can’t blame you. And I won’t pressure you.”
He came closer, stopping short of touching her. “We can go slow, take as long as you like to acclimate to the idea. We’ll get to know each other again. I can stay here in Newport and spend some time with AJ so we can get to know each other as well. Whatever you want.”
Cinda relaxed a bit, understanding Alex wouldn’t be forcing his will on them. And she realized it couldn’t have been easy on him, learning he’d missed out on four years of his child’s life and then being told he’d have to wait.
Her heart softened, along with her tone.
“I do want you to get to know AJ. He’s the most wonderful little boy. But this is going to be a big shock for him. We’ll have to think of a way to tell him that won’t freak him out. He’s used to it being just the two of us. It’s all he’s ever known.”
Now he did touch her, resting his big hands on her shoulders. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“For what?”
“For the chance. And for taking such good care of our little boy. I’ll never forgive myself for giving up too easily, for not being there.”
She was quiet for a moment, just staring up at him, at the sincerity and regret in his eyes. The other emotions in them she didn’t really want to think about at the moment.
“AJ will forgive you,” she said finally.
His eyes shined with hope. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.”
There was a long pause. Alex swallowed, hesitated, finally spoke. “Can you forgive me?”
Cinda nodded, swallowing back tears. “I already have.”
Alex cradled her face with one hand, wiping away an escaped tear with his thumb, and her breath left her.
Accompanied by all her sense, apparently. She hadn’t intended to let this happen, to allow any sort of intimacy tonight. She’d wanted to keep it all business—two parents working out a visitation schedule that would be beneficial to their son.
But the heated look in Alex’s eyes paralyzed her, drawing her toward the flame like an enthralled moth destined for a fiery end.
She didn’t move away. Did nothing to stop him. His lips descended to hers, joining them in a kiss that was at first light and gentle, almost worshipful. Then in a flash of heat and hunger it changed.
The swell of emotion nearly knocked Cinda off her feet. Once again, she was a twenty-four-year-old, falling in love for the first time.
Alex’s kiss took her right back to those days at the beach, those nights under the stars when she’d thought she might die from the acute pleasure of his kiss and touch.
Now, just as then, she couldn’t seem to get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough. Her fingers sank into the short, thick layers of his hair then coasted down over his broad shoulders and firm chest, down to his hard abdomen and sides.
She clung to him, wanting the kiss to never end.
But it had to. She was not a girl anymore. She was a responsible adult who could control her body and her emotions—mostly. Who could be wise instead of reckless. Who could put common sense above desire… even when it hurt.
So she turned her head slightly to break the contact between their mouths.
Alex pulled her face to his chest and rested his chin atop her head, stroking her hair and back as he held her tightly against him.
“I’m sorry. It’s too easy to lose control with you—I’ve wanted you for too long.”
She nodded, feeling the smooth, expensive fabric of his shirt against her hot cheek.
“It’s okay. I wanted it, too.”
Alex let out a loud gasp, shifting back so he could see her face. His was nothing short of jubilant. His eyes flared, and his gaze dropped back to her lips. He dipped his head, moving in to kiss her again.
Cinda stepped back, extricating herself from his hold. “Just this once more… for old times’ sake.”
She made her tone firm, businesslike. “But that was the last time. As… nice as it is… kissing you—and all the rest—co-parenting is all there can be between us going forward.”
There. She’d said it, and she sounded almost convincing enough to believe it herself.
Alex’s face went blank. Then his brows lowered and drew together, and his mouth hardened. “What? No. Have you not heard a word I said? I love you, Cinda. I want you in my life, and by that, I mean every day. Not as a co-parent. As my wife.”
He waited for her response, wearing an expression that suggested he doubted her comprehension—or maybe her sanity.
Cinda’s heart ached like a migraine in her chest. On the outside, she remained impassive.
“It’ll never work.”
“Why not?” Alex’s baffled expression morphed into something more vulnerable. “Unless… you don’t
love me?”
She could lie. He might even believe her. But this was a moment for naked honesty. They’d have to deal with each other for the rest of their lives—for AJ’s sake.
They couldn’t be together as a couple, but at the very least she wanted them to be truthful with each other.
“No. I do.” She looked down and swallowed hard before meeting his eyes again. “I do love you, Alex. I never stopped. But contrary to what the fairy tales tell you, love doesn’t conquer all. Your family—your country—will never accept me as your wife. They’ll never acknowledge AJ as anything more than a bastard. The son of a cleaning lady.”
Cinda could see from the look on Alex’s face that he knew she was right. And this was why she couldn’t depend on him—he wasn’t living in reality but a fantasy world that would shatter as soon as it was put under pressure.
She had to stick with what she could count on—her business, her friends here in Newport. Herself.
Alex was silent for a moment, breathing in and out several times. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with determination.
“I’ll walk away. From all of it. I was willing to do it five years ago. I’m doubly willing now.”
Cinda shook her head, tears filling her eyes and the lump in her throat making it hard to speak.
“That’s a pipe dream. You can’t just walk away from your home, from your family, your country, everything you know. Even if you were willing to actually do it, I couldn’t let you. I know how painful it is to lose the people you love. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want AJ to go through that pain either.”
Alex tensed. “What are you saying? You’ve changed your mind about allowing me to see him?”
“No. I won’t stop you from seeing AJ, but the fact is you live in Aubernesse, and we live here. You have to go home sooner or later. I don’t want AJ to… to come to rely on you… to love you… when you can’t really be there for him.”
“You’re asking me not to tell him I’m his father.”
She had to compose herself before continuing.
“I’m asking you to protect him—his heart. Think carefully before you make promises to him you can’t keep, before you say and do things that will make him love you and then turn around and leave him.”
Alex’s eyelids narrowed in an assessing gaze. “I see what’s going on here. Is it AJ’s heart you’re trying to protect? Or is it you who’s afraid to rely on someone and risk your heart?”
Cinda ignored his astute question. “You can have visitation with AJ—here—in Rhode Island. I’ll make sure the days and times are reasonable and generous. Just… have your assistant or whoever contact me, and we’ll set up some kind of arrangement.”
“No,” Alex said. His face was a contorted mask of pain and frustration.
He gripped her shoulders, giving her a slight shake. “I don’t want an arrangement. I want a family—with you, with our son.”
The words ripped Cinda’s heart out. How she’d longed for them to be a family. When AJ was a newborn, she’d dreamed of Alex sweeping back into her life and telling her he missed her, that he wanted them both. But that was then—before she knew the whole truth about him.
Before she realized how impossible that dream really was.
“The only true family I’ve ever had was my father,” Cinda said. “He was someone I could count on, someone I could trust completely. Can you honestly tell me you’ll be that kind of father?”
“Yes. I can. I will. I want you and AJ more than I ever wanted any of that other stuff. Don’t shut me out, Cinda, please.”
Alex sounded so sincere she knew he believed what he was saying. But he had no idea what it was like to be a parent, or what it was like to have everyone you’d ever loved and counted on ripped away from you.
“That’s what you say now,” she told him. “You’re speaking from emotion and not experience. You’ve never lived without all that ‘stuff.’ You don’t know what it’s like to struggle and live in the real world. But we’ve been here before, you and I. The fact is there’s no place for me in your world. There never was. And there’s no place for you in mine. I don’t need you in it. I don’t… want you.”
Cinda almost choked over the lie before going on. “Please. Just… go home, Alex. If you really love me, you’ll respect my wishes. Go home. Do your duty. Live your life.”
She swallowed hard. “And marry Audrey.”
Twenty-Three
The Helpers
Thank goodness it was Saturday. For one thing, AJ didn’t have school, and Cinda got to spend some time with him. She’d missed him so much the past couple of days it had been physically painful.
For another, she just didn’t think she could handle going into the office.
She’d slept fitfully, and AJ had had to wake her in late morning, asking for breakfast.
Now it was early evening, and she was still in her pajamas, or more specifically the t-shirt and sweatpants that had served as last night’s sleepwear.
She’d gotten nothing done beyond puttering, though her bathrooms needed cleaning, and she needed to pay bills, catch up on missed emails, rake the leaves overflowing the yard, and shop for groceries.
It was just hard to do anything with that hole in her chest. What she’d told Alex had been true—she’d been fine before he arrived—at least she’d thought she was fine.
But now? Now she was acutely aware of something missing from her life.
Alex’s sudden, stunning presence had left her fully cognizant of his current absence. Of the fact she’d never stop missing him for the rest of her life.
It didn’t help that he had her number and had texted early this morning. The message had torn her heart in half:
I will always be here, waiting for you to change your mind, ready to help, ready to love you and our son.
She’d have to change her cell number because she wasn’t going to make it if he kept contacting her and saying things like that.
Knowing him though, those sorts of messages would stop once he was married—he’d be faithful to his new wife.
The thought drained the remaining energy from her. There would be no cleaning, raking, or shopping today.
Wandering to the counter, she picked up a pile of mail and carried it to the kitchen table where her son was busily drawing.
AJ had asked about Alex, of course, but not knowing what the possible visitation schedule might look like, she’d simply told him pilots couldn’t stay in one place for long, they had to fly away again, and that he’d probably see Alex sometime soon.
She still wasn’t sure how to tell him he’d met his father yesterday in that airport parking lot.
“Look at my picture, Mommy,” he said.
Distracted, she glanced up and gave the colorful drawing a cursory glance. “That’s nice, honey. Who are all those people?”
“These are the helpers.”
AJ slid the paper toward his mother so she could more clearly see the firefighter, police officer, and doctor he’d drawn. There were two other figures on the page. AJ’s ever-present prince. And a pilot.
Cinda’s heart ripped further, the shreds of it hanging limply inside her chest.
“Miss Angelina has been teaching us about finding the helpers and the good people,” AJ said.
Cinda couldn’t stop a cynical thought from popping out. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s who.”
She’d made the remark under her breath, but apparently AJ’s four-year-old super-hearing picked it up because he responded with a chipper, “It’s easy. Miss Angelina says you know them by what they do. Like you—you help people by cleaning their houses, and you give other people jobs to clean houses. And you help me.”
He gave Cinda the grin that never failed to melt her heart. A heart that was feeling pretty battered today, but she managed a smile in return.
Standing, she kissed the top of his head and walked a few steps away to start preparing his dinner. She had just enough ener
gy to put together a peanut butter sandwich and some mixed fruit.
Thankfully, AJ wouldn’t complain—he’d eat PB and J any time of day or night.
“Does anybody help you, Mommy?”
The innocent question stopped Cinda in her tracks. Shaking it off and moving toward the pantry again, she took out a loaf of bread, carrying it to the counter.
“I don’t need anyone to help me,” she told him carefully. “Mommy can do everything all by herself.”
AJ’s little face creased with a disapproving frown. “Miss Angelina says we all need other people, and it’s okay to let someone help you. Because that’s what life is all about, living together, and working together, and helping each other.”
Cinda froze in the midst of applying peanut butter to a slice of bread, the knife stopping mid-air. A blob of peanut butter dropped and squelched on the countertop with a soft plunk.
That was when the tears started.
They overflowed her eyelids and rolled down her face, accompanied by hitching sobs she was powerless to control.
AJ lifted his head and looked at her in alarm. “Are you okay, Mommy?”
She nodded, unable to answer, trying desperately to control herself. It was like a dam had broken inside her.
The tears and sobs flowed, uncontrolled. She was suddenly, without warning, at the end of her own strength.
She didn’t want to do it all alone.
AJ’s teacher was right. Relying on people was part of life. Perhaps you could technically make it through life all on your own—she’d been proving it these past few years—but it felt more like survival than living.
Emotionally she was just as stranded and isolated as she and Alex had been on that island in the midst of a hurricane.