“I’m part of a program that paid for all of my rehab, and they’re renting an apartment for me to live in. Part of the reason I could never get clean was I kept being around the same people in the same place. But now I have a new place to live, and they’ve promised to help me get started in training as a hairdresser. I’m going to have a place to live and a job.” She sounded genuinely happy and excited.
“That’s great,” I said again, not sure what else I should say. I worked with social workers every day. I knew the federal and local government programs and private funding inside and out. I had never heard of one that did what she was describing. It made me a little uneasy.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to get better. And maybe in a few months when I’m settled in Boulder, you can come visit me?”
There was so much hope in her voice that I couldn’t just tell her no. “We’ll see,” I said. “I’m glad you’re getting better.”
An awkward silence started, and then she said, “Okay, well, I need to go. You can call me at this number if you ever want to talk.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Bye,” she said and hung up.
I put my phone down on the kitchen table and noticed my hands were shaking. I couldn’t believe that had just happened. I literally hadn’t spoken to my mother in ten years. I hadn’t even known whether or not she was alive. Not only was she alive, but she was happy. And she was off of drugs. The thing I had spent my whole childhood hoping and praying for.
The cynical part of me knew it was unlikely she’d stay that way, reminding me that I couldn’t ignore the recidivism rate for addicts. The odds were that she would relapse and go right back to her old way of life. Most addicts had to go through rehab multiple times before they could get better. This was only her first time, as far as I knew.
But there, in the deepest part of me, was a small spark of hope.
It made me turn my laptop on and reconnect to the Wi-Fi. I usually kept off the Internet so that I wouldn’t be tempted to look up pictures of Nico and his family. If he was dating Scarlett Johansson or Zoe Saldana, I didn’t want to know about it.
Boulder was about forty minutes away by car. I didn’t know how long it would take by bus. I logged on to my banking site to see if I would have enough money to make the bus ride over to her and still pay my bills.
My account came up, and it said my balance was over forty thousand dollars.
I sat there with my mouth open, like I was trying to catch flies with it. Had the bank screwed up? I’d heard about this happening to other people, the bank making errors and then taking the money back.
I clicked on my account link, and it brought me to my statement. I scanned through it and there was a deposit from Amazon. For thirty-eight thousand dollars.
That had to be wrong. It had to be. I opened a new browser and went to my Amazon author account. I’d never sold more than three books in a month. The number of books I would have to sell to make up this amount was astronomical.
There was no mistake. I had sold tens of thousands of books. I looked at the dates and opened yet another browser window. I had a suspicion and entered the title of my book, my pen name, and told Google to look for it.
Some images came up. It was Violetta, and it was Fashion Week in Paris. She looked wonderful, her eyes bright and alive. And in her lap was a hard copy of my book, Once Upon a Time. There were interviews of her talking about my book, praising it. The book was everywhere. Other celebrities and royals were pictured with it, title side out so that everyone could see. She’d made me that week’s fashionable accessory.
Had Nico been behind this? The tears returned, and I picked up my phone, more tempted than ever to call him.
Instead I listened to his message again. I knew it by heart, as I listened to it at least three times a day.
I was ready to see pictures. I was ready to remember. I opened up the camera’s gallery and realized that Serafina had stolen the phone again after the snow polo match. There was one of Nico and me laughing. One of us kissing. Another of us at dinner, and him looking at me like he loved me.
I ran into my bedroom and opened my closet. I pulled my necklace off the shelf, putting it around my neck. Once I had clasped it closed, I adjusted the pendant and wrapped my hand around it. I put the Barbie on top of my dresser, where I could see it every day.
I had to fix this. After my thesis was done and presented and defended, I would take some of my book money and go back to Monterra and find a way to fix this. Even if we only ended up friends, and regardless of what I’d said to him in Milan, I didn’t want him to stay away from me.
I needed him. I loved him. He had to be in my life in some way.
I focused all of my energy on making sure my thesis was flawless. I practiced my presentation over and over again. I figured the best way to keep myself from being nervous was to be well prepared. I made up my own mock questions, trying to anticipate what the committee might ask. Lemon would quiz me, and I quizzed her as well. I just had to not think about her content as it all related to Nico’s family.
My countdown now was not just to finishing my thesis and graduating, but getting to see Nico. He became my reward, my incentive to work my hardest so that I could be with him again.
Two days before my presentation, Lemon and I went clothes shopping. I wanted to spend all of the time I had left preparing, but she convinced me that I needed something professional to wear. I would need a whole new professional wardrobe when I started my job. Fortunately, I now had the money to do something about it.
I did kick myself for leaving those dresses in Monterra. One of them would have worked perfectly for the presentation.
We picked up some pantsuits, skirts, and dresses, along with matching shoes. I even picked out some pretty underwear to give me that extra boost of confidence.
The morning finally arrived, and I sat outside the committee’s room, trying to breathe normally. This was it. Everything rested on the next one to two hours.
My advisor, Professor Stevenson, came to the door and invited me in. Her smile was bright against her beautiful mahogany-colored skin. “Remember to stay calm. We’re just going to have a conversation. This is a formality.”
I nodded. I could do this. I tried to shake off my anxious nerves. It helped that I had probably overprepared. I presented flawlessly and didn’t make a single mistake. I answered every question succinctly and knew what I was talking about. After an hour and a half, the committee asked me to step outside.
A few minutes later, Professor Stevenson stuck her head out of the door. She looked serious for a moment, and my stomach dropped down to my feet. Then she smiled. “You defended it successfully.”
I ran up to her and hugged her, laughing as I jumped up and down. So unprofessional, but I was too excited.
“Go home and celebrate,” she told me. “You’ve earned it.”
This was it. Now I could make plans to see Nico. I had to make a quick stop at the Graduate Studies Office to pick up my graduation packet. It was really going to happen. I would graduate and have everything I ever wanted.
Including, possibly, Nico.
Should I surprise him? I could call Giacomo. I bet Lemon could get me his number. Giacomo would tell me what Nico’s schedule was and where I could see him. He’d probably even help me arrange the whole thing.
Or should I just call Nico and explain and then make plans together?
The possibilities seemed fun and endless. I tried to imagine the look on his face when I walked through his door.
I imagined it might be just like mine when I walked into my apartment and found Nico sitting in one of our armchairs.
I just stood there, blinking repeatedly. Was this real? I was about to walk over and touch him, just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Did you pass? Did your thesis presentation go well?”
I nearly collapsed to the floor. He was real. I had missed him so much I worried I might actu
ally pass out.
“Yes,” I finally managed to speak. He was wearing another suit, and I wondered if he was hot. We didn’t have air-conditioning, and while the mornings were still cool, the afternoons had started to have a bit of heat to them.
A million questions ran through my mind. What was he doing here? When did he get here? How did he know about my thesis?
“Can I, uh, get you something?” I didn’t know what else to say. “We have, uh, milk, I think. Possibly water.”
I was losing my mind.
Nico got up and walked into our tiny kitchen. He opened the fridge and then the freezer. He turned to smile at me. “Gelato?”
I nodded again.
“Perhaps I should get you something. You look like you need a stiff drink.”
I needed something. Maybe I was in shock. He might need to take me to the hospital.
Nico grabbed a bottle of water and came over to hand it to me. I noticed he was careful not to touch me. He stepped closer to me and I thought he might kiss me or hug me. I looked up at him in anticipation, hoping.
But he reached his arm over my shoulder to close the door behind me. The door I had left open when I saw him.
He returned to his armchair, and I followed behind him, sitting on my couch. Just staring at him. Frak, he was more beautiful than I’d remembered. How had I been so mean to him? How had I walked away?
“You’re wearing my necklace.” He sounded hopeful, and my hand flew to the pendant, just as it did a million times a day. I nodded.
He wasn’t here to talk about jewelry. And if he wouldn’t say why, then I would just have to find out.
“I have some questions for you,” I said. I thought maybe I should wait for him to talk and explain himself, but he seemed content to just sit in that chair and look at me.
“Twenty?”
I could hear the smile in his voice. Things had to be okay if he could tease me. “Maybe not twenty, but I need you to answer them honestly.”
“All right.”
“How did you know about my thesis?”
“Lemon.”
I should have known. I put the water bottle on the table. My mouth was dry and my pulse frantic, but water was not going to help.
“Did you fund my scholarship?”
“Yes.”
“Did you pay for my mom go to rehab?”
“Yes.”
“And get her a new place to live?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell Violetta to carry around my book and talk about it?”
He shifted in the chair, putting his left ankle on top of his right knee. “That was all Violetta’s idea. She wanted to thank you for what you had done, and came up with that plan on her own.”
“Did you make Dante go on Marry Me instead of you?”
“I didn’t have to push him hard, but yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at me incredulously. “Do you really not know?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”
He didn’t respond. My heart was practically bursting at the sight of him, desperate for him to say why he was there and how he felt, and he wanted to keep playing this game. That irritated me.
“Well, you need to stop doing that kind of stuff for me.”
“No.”
No? “Why not?”
“Because I need to know that you are safe and happy. Now it’s my turn.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer the questions Nico might ask. But I just nodded.
“Why did you leave the money?”
“I didn’t want it. It didn’t feel right.”
“Why?”
I considered Lemon’s explanation. But instead I said, “I can’t explain it. I just couldn’t take it.”
“Did you think about me at all while we were apart?”
Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes. My throat was thick as I answered, “Every day. Every minute of every day.”
He stood up then, looking angry. “Why didn’t you answer my message? I waited and waited for you to call back. You know how impatient I am, and I have tried so hard to give you all the space and time you needed, but you just ignored me. For three months, you’ve ignored me.”
“I didn’t ignore you. I didn’t understand what you had said. The message is in Italian.” I took my phone out and played it for him on speakerphone. Nico started firing off a response that I didn’t understand.
“You’re doing it again. Talking in Italian.”
He ran both of his hands through his hair. He looked frustrated. “I tend to do that sometimes when I’m feeling emotional.”
Emotional? My heart skipped a beat. If that kept happening, being near him was going to be the death of me.
“Do you want to know what my message said?”
I nodded, and fluttery butterflies started going kamikaze in my stomach.
“I said that I missed you. That I needed you to know how I felt. That I loved you. I do love you. I am in love with you. I told you that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Do you know what it’s like to leave a message like that and get no response?” He sounded mad.
I had turned into a statue, just blinking at him. “You love me?” I whispered.
“Of course I love you. And you love me, right?” There was a heartbreaking mixture of hope and vulnerability on his face that turned my insides to mush.
I stood up and walked over to him. His words had given me strength. I made sure he was looking me in the eyes. “I love you so much. I love you more than words. There is no way to express to you just how much I love you.”
Then he hugged me, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tightly, like he would never let me go. I threw my arms around his neck, so grateful and glad to be with him again.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He murmured the words into my hair.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I countered. “Everyone knows the man is supposed to say it first.”
He pulled his head back to look at me. “Says who?”
I rolled my eyes. “Everybody in the whole world! Have you never watched a romantic movie?”
“I didn’t tell you because I was worried about scaring you off. You were so vulnerable and innocent that I was afraid if I told you how I was feeling, you would run away from me.” He let out a short laugh. “Look how well that turned out. You ran away anyway. And if I’d told you my true feelings, I never could have kept a distance between us so that I could respect you the way you deserve to be respected.” He reached up and brushed some stray hair from the side of my face. “From the moment we met I knew I would fall in love with you.”
He placed a soft kiss on the side of my temple, and I sighed with pleasure. My Nico was back. “At the airport, I was so angry. I felt like I was in this alone. That I had fallen in love with you, but you said it wasn’t real. I thought you saw me as some plaything to pass the time. That wasn’t the first time a woman had treated me that way. I let you go when I shouldn’t have. I should have told you. I should have fought for you.”
Nico carefully set me down. “So I am going to fight for you now. I know this isn’t the perfect moment, but I can’t wait any longer.”
He pulled a blue velvet box out of his pocket. He got down on one knee, and my heart stopped. Like, actually stopped. I couldn’t breathe.
“I’ve let the situation with my father affect me too much. I let it affect my decisions and what I wanted out of life. I was afraid that if I became king, he wouldn’t have a reason to go on. But he and I had a long conversation about that, and I realized that I had to stop being afraid. My life is not easy. I am always busy, always traveling. I have so many responsibilities, and it will only get worse.”
“This is a terrible sales pitch,” I told him. He nodded.
“I know it isn’t fair for me to ask, because you deserve a husband who will always be with you, treating you like the queen that you are. But I have to ask you. Katerina MacTaggart, will you do me the
honor of becoming my wife?”
He held the box out to me.
“What’s in there?”
He looked confused. “You know exactly what’s in there.”
“A board game?”
He finally smiled. “No.”
“Legos?”
“Not Legos. Look.”
He opened it for me, which was good because my hands were shaking so hard there was no way I could have managed it.
Inside was a diamond ring with a gem so big it looked like it had to be fake. But I knew it wasn’t. It was an enormous pear cut, surrounded by smaller red rubies that I realized were in the shape of hearts. Which was appropriate, since I was his cuore mio. He knelt there, waiting for an answer. Which seemed silly, because what other answer could there be than yes a million times over?
It would mean that I would be queen. I didn’t know how to be queen. I knew though that there would be people there to help me every step of the way. People who loved me.
People like Nico.
I couldn’t imagine anything better.
“Yes, Your Royal Highness, Prince Dominic of Monterra. I will marry you.”
Nico gave me a beautiful grin that made me happier than I could have imagined. He put the ring on me and picked me up, swinging me around in a circle.
He kissed me over and over again, kisses full of joy, excitement, and promises. It made me light-headed.
He set me down and glanced at the bedrooms. “Is an engagement close enough?” he teased as he nuzzled my neck.
I smacked him on the shoulder. “Engaged is not married, mister.”
Good thing I’d shut that down, because a second later Lemon came out of her room. That could have been awkward. “Praise the Lord! Finally! Let me see that ring.”
I held it out to her, and she let out an appreciative whistle. “I am happier than a calico cat with a bowl full of cream. It is about time y’all worked this out.” She hugged me, telling me congratulations. Then she did the same with Nico.
“You’ll be my maid of honor, right?”
“Obviously. I’m just trying to figure out how to best tell the world. A press release? No, not enough impact. Morning talk shows? No, we’ll go the Alex and Caitlin route. We’ll choose one reporter to interview you from the palace. Make it highly exclusive, so that the entire world will be dying to hear more. Love that . . .” She had stopped talking to us a while back.
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