by Lynn, Sophia
"Jesus, Marnie. Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
"Because you abandoned me," she hissed, and in that single exclamation, there was all the vitriol that she had thought was put away and dealt with. He looked stunned, and she pressed her advantage.
"Because you had just gotten done telling me that there was no place for me in your high and mighty life, and that you were going home to be the perfect prince in your own country. Excuse me if I thought that if there was no place for me, there would be no place for the baby, either!"
Philip looked stung at her accusatory words, but he rallied. "A baby changes everything. You should still have contacted me …"
"I tried," she said more quietly. "I … was so scared after I found out. I didn't want to, and I didn't even tell Cassie I was going to, but after I found out, I tried to call your number. It was disconnected, I suppose, because you had returned home. I racked my brain for a way to contact you, but everywhere I ran into palace protocols …"
Philip now looked stricken. "Those are meant to keep the public from harassing us," he said. "There are layers of security that can only be breached by my family or me giving out certain codes, certain phone numbers …"
"None of which you gave me," she said.
They sat in silence for a moment, and without thinking about it, Marnie reached for the hot coffee that was steaming away untouched in front of Philip. It was an automatic gesture, a relic of their relationship together from before. He raised an eyebrow when she did it, but he didn't protest.
"I didn't know what to do after that, but I realized that if I pushed it too hard, I was going to start setting off lots of rumors and unpleasantness. I didn't want to go through that, and at that point, I was beginning to think of myself as a mother. I didn't want to put my child through that, either."
"Was I ever to know?" he asked quietly. He sounded subdued now, and she was grateful. She couldn't imagine being in his spot, realizing that he had a daughter more than half a decade after the fact.
"I decided that I was going to play that one by ear," she said with a shrug."I can't tell the future. There might have been a place where I could have told you. Perhaps when Victoria was an adult and could make up her own mind about things, she would have wanted to seek you out."
"And where does she think her father is?" Philip asked.
Marnie sighed. "She's just a little girl right now. At this point, she knows that some families have two parents, and some families have one, and some people live with just one parent, and some people live with whole rooms full of extended families. It's good enough for her for now. She hasn't asked for more information."
Philip nodded, but she wasn't sure whether he agreed with her statements or whether he could see where she was coming from.
"She's my daughter," Philip said, and to Marnie, it was as if he were coming to terms with the idea. It was fair. His world had changed drastically over the course of the last few hours.
"She is," Marnie agreed.
"She has to come back to Navarra."
In the space of half a second, Marnie went from feeling calm and even sympathetic for Philip to towering rage. "Excuse me?" she asked, deceptively quiet.
"It's obvious. She must go to Navarra. She's a princess of the Demarier line, and—"
"No," Marnie said cuttingly, and her tone was so sharp that it made Philip look up, startled.
"Her last name is Drake. When she was born, the birth certificate lists just one parent, and that is me. She is a fine, healthy, happy girl, and she does not need to be yanked from everything that she knows to be taken across the sea to strangers."
Philip started to protest, but she stood up, eyes alight with anger. "No. You had a hand in making her, and for that, I thank you. She is a wonderful girl, and every day, I am thankful that I am her mother. However, you are not her father. I woke up every hour on the hour for the first six months she was born because she had colic. I held her when she fell and had to have her knee stitched together at the urgent care. I am her mother, and by god, I will not let you take her from me."
Marnie looked at Philip, meeting his gaze with steely resolve. "You have a choice, Philip. You can go back to Navarra and pretend this never happened. Or you can stay and get to know your daughter. But believe me when I say that it will be on my terms."
She scrawled her number down on a scrap of paper and dropped it in front of him. "You already told me that I wasn't good enough for your world. You will not get a chance to tell my daughter the same thing."
With that, she turned on her heel and strode to the entrance. Her heart was beating as if she had run all the way around the city, and she could feel a high red heat in her cheeks.
When she was in the cool of the night and heading for the subway stop, she wondered if she had made the right decision. She was a writer who was gaining some popularity, and money hadn't been an issue for years, but Philip was a prince who could leverage a great deal more power than she could.
At the end, though, shaking her head, she had to admit that she could do nothing else.
When she had known Philip, she knew that she was a writer. Things were different now. She was a writer and a mother, and she would never let her little girl be taken away from her.
*
Philip sat at the coffee shop long after Marnie had departed. He ignored the curious gazes of the people around him and picked up the scrap of paper.
"That … could have gone better," he murmured to himself.
He also realized that it could have gone worse. Marnie had left the door open for him to come in. He had to come in on her terms, but that wasn't a surprise. In Navarra, there was a long tradition of mothers' rights, where it was the mother who set the rules regarding the children. Hers was the greater responsibility, so hers was the greater power when it came to children.
However, the massive unfairness of not being allowed to be there, to support his daughter, cut him to the quick. He could protest all he liked that he would have wanted to be a true father to Victoria, but the fact remained that he hadn't been. Through a combination of his own carelessness and the protocols surrounding his family, he had been gone, as untouchable as if he were on the moon.
As far as he could see, Marnie had raised a lovely daughter who just happened to be his own.
If he had appeared and she had had a little blond son with gray eyes, a child of another lover, he would have been happy for her. He would have been impressed that she had raised a child while she was starting her writing career, and he would have wanted to get to know the child because, after all, he was a part of a woman he had once loved very much.
Once?
That was something that Philip wasn't prepared to think about. He thought that time would have dulled his reaction to Marnie, but apparently, it had done no such thing.
Instead, when he saw her, he was taken right back to the time six years ago, when it had been hard to go an hour without thinking of her.
In another circumstance, that might have been endearing and even enjoyable. Right now, when there was Victoria between them, he couldn't take that risk.
Philip knew what his parents would have wanted him to do. They would want him to rally up with lawyers, ones that would almost certainly be able to work with paternity suits and immigration to return Victoria to her father's homeland. No matter what Marnie tried, there would have been no way for her to fight.
He couldn't do that, not to Marnie, not to anyone. Instead, he was going to fend off his parents for a little longer, and then … Well, then he was going to get to know his daughter.
CHAPTER THREE
The next day was reserved for Victoria and Marnie. The publicity blitz for her newest book had been intense, and more often than not, Victoria had been left to play on her own while Marnie worked. It was fine for a while. Victoria was a quiet, almost reserved child who could concoct whole worlds on her own, shimmering things with a logic that was closer to Wond
erland than it was to the real world.
However, she was also fiercely attached to her mother, and the time apart had been difficult on both of them.
Both mother and daughter rose up bright and early, and Victoria appeared at Marnie's bedroom door, a rare wide smile on her face.
"Did you forget, Mama? We're going to spend the day together."
Marnie smiled in return. "Not at all, honey. I'm up, and I'm all set to spend the day with my favorite girl. What do you think we should do today?"
"I want to go to the park," Victoria said promptly. "And then to get ice cream at the red shop."
"You have obviously been thinking about this for a while," Marnie teased. "It's good. I respect people who have plans. But ice cream is a treat, not a meal. Where should we go to get a real lunch?"
Victoria frowned ferociously, thinking. Marnie had decided early on that Victoria should have plenty of freedom, while understanding that freedom came with responsibility. So far, it seemed to be working.
"Store?" she asked. "We could get salads."
Or rather, Marnie could get a salad, and then Victoria could pick what she wanted to out of it.
"That sounds like a fantastic idea," Marnie said. "We'll have some breakfast, and then we can head out, all right?"
They were on the subway, Victoria watching out the window with avid eyes, when Marnie's phone beeped. It could have been Cassie, or her agent or any number of people, but she knew from the first moment she picked it up who it would be.
I want to get to know Victoria. I want to get to know you again. I'm working on your schedule and your rules. Tell me the place and the time, and I'll be there.
Marnie took several deep breaths. There it was. Perhaps a small part of her wished that he had decided to stay away. Then nothing would change and life could roll on as it always had. Still, she had gotten done telling Victoria just a few months ago that change was good, and that the change between staying at home and going to school was going to lead to great things.
"Victoria, I need your attention right now."
Victoria, who knew that her mother only used those words when she was serious, turned around to watch her with those liquid black eyes. Sometimes, it had been hard at the beginning to be reminded of Philip so often. Now she looked at them and only saw her daughter.
"All right, Victoria, do you remember the man who sat next to you at the store last night? He talked with you a little bit?"
"Yes …"
"Well, he's … a very old friend of mine. A very good friend that I haven't seen since before you were born. He's in town again for the first time in years, and he wants to get to see me and to know you."
Victoria nodded, processing this in her serious way. Sometimes, Marnie wondered if her daughter would be a writer too. She thought about everything with that same seriousness.
"Now, I want you to understand that you can say no, but I was thinking it might be fun to invite him along today at the park."
Victoria thought for a moment, and Marnie wondered what Victoria would say. If Victoria said no, she would arrange another meeting, but if she was honest with herself … she truly wanted her daughter—their daughter—to say yes.
"I think you should invite him along," she said finally. "I liked him."
"You did?" Marnie asked in surprise. She had heard from Victoria that she had talked with the dark-haired stranger, but she hadn't heard more than that.
"I did," Victoria said decisively. "He talked to me like I was real."
Real was Victoria's word for being spoken to seriously. Sometime around the age of three, she had learned to disdain baby talk, and whenever Marnie had forgotten, she would glare. As an adorable little girl, there were plenty of strangers who talked to her as if she wasn't real, and it was a source of constant aggravation.
"I am glad that he spoke to you as if you were real," Marnie said, oddly pleased in spite of herself. There were plenty of adults who, unwilling to accept that Victoria had certain needs and preferences, persisted in using baby talk with her, and Marnie had come to realize that most of those adults were not people she wanted around herself, let alone her daughter.
"He did." Victoria proclaimed. With the conversation apparently over, she turned back to the window, and it was left to Marnie to write back to Philip.
After a deep breath, she texted him the location of the park where they were going, and after a moment of hesitation, she added, I'm looking forward to seeing you there.
If she was being honest, she was more than just looking forward to it. When Marnie glanced at Victoria, her heart hurt with how much she loved her daughter. However, old feelings that she had thought were gone forever were stirring over Philip, Philip who she knew could easily destroy the entire life that she had worked so hard for.
As they traveled towards the park, Marnie prayed that what came next would not hurt her small family.
*
The day was bright, unseasonably warm for spring, and the moment that Victoria was allowed to do so, she ran for the bushes, inspecting the new leaves and the budding day lilies. At some point, she would likely want to play on the equipment, but ever since she was born, she had been much more impressed with the flowers and shrubs than she was with the playground equipment.
Marnie stretched a little, enjoying the sun. She tried to get out often when she was writing, taking Victoria with her to the little bodega around the corner and staying active, but the end of a book was always hard on her. Now that things were a little slower, she could take her time and start to have some fun again.
"She's lively," said a familiar voice behind her, and Marnie swung around to see Philip.
He was still so handsome that he could take her breath away. He wore a light jacket and a scarf, and in his hands, he held a cardboard tray with paper cups.
"She is," Marnie said, swallowing to get rid of her dry mouth. "She's been cooped up all winter, and this is the first time she's really gotten out to play."
He frowned a little at that. "Does she not get out very much in the winter?"
Marnie smiled a little. "Are you already criticizing my parenting skills? Have to say, not a great way to begin."
To his credit, Philip looked startled and scandalized. "Not at all! I talked with her, and she seems to be a lively, smart child. All I have is my own childhood to base things off of. Navarra is far more temperate than New York, so we were able to play outside as much as we liked."
"We New Yorkers have come up with ways to cope with the unseasonable weather," Marnie said with a slight grin. "There's an indoor playground that we go to, and I bundle her up and take her with me to the store, which, believe me, in a New York winter is pretty tiring. Are those for us?"
Philip looked down, almost as if surprised that he was still holding the drinks. "They are … I guess I didn't want to come empty-handed …"
Abruptly, she realized that he was nervous. The thought was mind-blowing. The entire time she had known him, Philip had always been cocky, sure of himself. However, now he was in unknown waters, and he was terrified of making a misstep. It made her warm to him in a way she hadn't expected.
"Calm down," she said, impulsively touching his hand. "Victoria and I can be hard to impress, but we're pretty easy going. Honestly … I'm glad you came."
"You are?" he asked. "From the way you talked to me at DiMartino's, I thought you would have been just as happy to see the back of me."
"Being a mom means that you sometimes have to draw some pretty broad lines," Marnie said with a shrug. "I want to make sure that Victoria only has people in her life who are going to be kind and thoughtful. If you were going to show up, make a fuss, maybe dump some presents on her and disappear … well, that's not something that would be good for her. If you're genuinely here to get to know her, that's different."
Philip nodded understandingly. "Yes. I do want to get to know her. Can we … that is, I don't want to interrupt her while she
's playing …"
Marnie laughed. "You are new at this," she said fondly. "She's easy. If we interrupt her while she's playing, she might pout a little, but I think the juice will fix it. Victoria, come on over here!"
Despite her earlier approval, Victoria approached Philip with caution. Marnie wasn't surprised. Victoria was a quiet girl, and some strangers misread that as shyness. The truth was that Victoria was fairly fearless all things considered. She was only exuberant around people she knew well.
"Sweetie, this is Philip, my old friend. He's a good man, and he'd like to spend some time with us today."
"Hello, Philip. I am pleased to meet you," Victoria said dutifully. Philip looked a little surprised when the little girl offered him her hand, but he took it. When he touched her, Marnie could see something pass on his face—joy, awe, and stark terror all mixed together. She assumed that she had looked somewhat similar when they had first put Victoria into her arms.
"I'm pleased to meet you too, Victoria," he said. "I'm … well. I brought some juice."
"What kind?" asked Victoria skeptically, and Philip laughed.
"Well, I don't know what anyone likes, but I have apple-lime, banana-strawberry, and mango-dragon fruit. Which one do you like most?"
Victoria looked torn, and Philip was frozen. Marnie decided to step in and help out. "Sweetie, you know you like banana and strawberry, so why don't you take that one? You can try a sip of ours, and if everyone agrees, we can trade, how about that?"
Victoria decided that that was acceptable, and Philip shot her a grateful look.
Marnie couldn't help but smile a little at the way Philip watched the little girl drink her juice. He looked as if he had never seen anything so interesting or brilliant in his life, and despite her suspicions, her doubts and her fears, she felt herself warm to him a little more.
When Victoria finished her drink, she gave the cup to her mother and started to run back to the playground.
"Hang on, what do you say?"
Victoria looked a little guilty, and glanced at Philip. "Thank you for the juice and may I be excused?" she said all in one breath.