by Kaye Blue
As I had prepared for the show, I’d been excited to finally have him see the drawings in a gallery, but as the night had progressed without him showing up I had been first worried, then angry, and now I didn’t know what the hell it was.
The show was going wonderfully, and my work had been better received than any I’d ever produced.
I’d sold all of my pieces within the hour, but was I happy?
No.
Instead I was fixated on where Kristian was.
He was all right. I couldn’t even entertain the idea of something having happened to him. But on the other hand, there had to be a good reason why he wasn’t here.
I tried to keep myself focused on the show and remember that he would tell me when I finally saw him again, but the nerves that were gnawing at my stomach were different than the ones that had been there earlier.
And much worse.
It was one thing to worry about my talent, and yet another to worry about Kristian and that little voice that made me wonder if he cared as much about me as I did him.
Sarah and Cree had come by earlier, but both had had engagements that required them to be elsewhere, so it was me working the room alone.
I was somewhat grateful, because both of them would have been able to spot something was wrong with me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to explain.
So instead I tried to work through them as best I could, and enjoy at least some of the accolades that came my way.
As the show began to wind down, a hush fell over the gallery and I turned toward the entrance to see why.
Instantly understood the reason for the change in the room. After all, it wasn’t every day that a king was in your presence.
I watched as Rafael Sarda, his royal highness, King of Medina, walked into the gallery.
It was a strange sight, him in his no doubt hand-sewn suit and handmade leather shoes in the brick industrial warehouse where I had chosen to have the show.
Though in his seventies, he still cut a fine figure, and I could see each of his sons in him.
Aaron had his eyes, Kristian had his build, and Leo was pretty much his spitting image.
It was jarring to see those familiar features and yet not see the warmth and friendliness I was accustomed to from the family.
I’d met the king on several occasions, and when I said I’d met him, it meant I’d been in the same room with him.
We’d never shared more than a few pleasantries, which was fine by me. Kristian had told me not to take it personally, and I hadn’t for the most part. That part of Kristian, his actual duties as a prince were as far removed from our lives as they could possibly be, and I was in no hurry to change that.
But Rafael had other plans.
He looked at my drawings with a quick once-over, and I couldn’t see his reaction to them. But less than a minute after he had entered the gallery he walked toward me.
“Hi. Your highness,” I hastily added.
My years of taunting Kristian had given a sarcastic content to the words, and I was certain Rafael heard it.
“Dallas?” he said, the question in his voice.
“That’s right,” I responded.
“Forgive me. It’s hard to keep up with all of Kristian’s friends,” he said, putting special emphasis on the last word.
“Yeah,” I said for lack of anything else to say.
I wasn’t exactly sure what was happening here. It seemed odd that he would come to my show without actually knowing my name, but I couldn’t think of any reason why he would deliberately screw with me.
I felt like I was on the brink of something I wanted no part of, so I did my best to end this encounter as soon as I could and come out unscathed.
“Thank you for coming,” I said.
“I’m a patron of the arts. Does provide a beautiful service to the world, though I will admit my taste skews more traditional,” he said.
“Yeah. Kristian told me that you have a fondness for the classics,” I said.
“Not a fondness per se, but a man in my station has certain responsibilities, needs to know certain things, as does a man in Kristian’s,” he said.
The subtext of the comment wasn’t lost on me and I felt compelled to defend Kristian even though I was probably making a mistake.
“He does. But he handles them,” I said.
Rafael frowned, but then quickly returned to a neutral expression.
“I’m not talking about his little hobby,” Rafael said.
“Two restaurants is one heck of a hobby,” I responded.
Rafael frowned, and this time didn’t bother to hide the expression.
“It is a hobby. Kristian is royalty, a man who could one day be king. It’s a shame that he wastes his time cooking like a peasant,” Rafael said.
I was certain I had never heard anyone use the word peasant in a non-ironic fashion, but I decided not to share the newness of that experience with Rafael. Instead I said, “Well, he’s really good at it. And he loves it.”
“His love of it hardly matters. How he feels hardly matters. What matters is that he has responsibilities, things he needs to do, and he needs the right activities, and the right people around him to do them,” Rafael said.
I wasn’t up on my palace intrigue, but I didn’t have to be to know that the subject of this conversation had shifted. I wanted no part of it, but I also couldn’t see a way to extricate myself.
“I’m sure Kristian will do everything he’s supposed to,” I said.
The words were feeble, almost meaningless, and Rafael batted them away as such.
“Kristian is willful, but he loves his family and his kingdom and will do as he should. I just hope that the people around him who have become ensnared in his distractions aren’t too hurt when that time comes. Do you think they will be, Dallas?” he asked.
He looked at me now, his gaze pointed, his dark brown eyes piercing and intense. I knew exactly what he was asking me.
Or warning me of.
That Kristian would leave, that the time would come that he would have to go and be a part of Rafael’s world.
A world that didn’t include me.
“I’m sure Kristian will take care of that,” I said. “It was great to see you, your highness. But I have to…” I trailed off, not sure what else to say.
Rafael simply smiled and then grabbed my hand and gave it a light kiss.
“Of course, dear. Go tend to your other guests. It was a pleasure seeing you,” he said.
I nodded and practically sprinted away from him, knowing it wasn’t the most noble display and not giving a crap.
But rather than talking to the other guests at the show, I found the bathroom, and splashed water on my face.
I’d gone without makeup today. It had been an intentional choice, because I viewed these drawings as a stripped-down, completely pure distillation of my point of view, and I wanted my appearance to reflect that.
I was glad for it in that moment. The cold water helped break me out of my shock at seeing Rafael, which was welcome.
Rafael had come here to warn me, make sure I understood that I had no place in Kristian’s life.
That he had felt compelled to do so personally either meant he was concerned about my well-being and wanted to make sure that I got the message, which was unlikely, or he’d come to deliver the message to simply make sure there could be no confusion. And Rafael’s visit, combined with Kristian’s absence, made it clear that there could be none.
I looked at the mirror, blinked, wondering at my foolishness. I’d really allowed myself to believe that we had a chance, that there was some way we could work.
That was a fairy tale. I might be a dreamer, but I wasn’t a fool. Continuing to pursue this thing with Kristian was what a fool would do.
Which meant I only had one option.
I had to end it; there was no other choice.
I would break myself in the process. I just had to hope there was something left to put back
together.
Twenty-One
Kristian
“I should have him flogged!” I said to Leo as I paced at three in the morning.
He’d arrived half an hour ago and unlocked the door.
“It won’t make you feel any better. Dalton was simply doing as he was ordered. Your issue is with Father,” Leo said.
“I don’t even want to look at him,” I said.
“And you shouldn’t,” Leo said. “Leave him to me.”
“I won’t have you fighting my battles, Leo,” I said.
“I’m not fighting your battles. I am doing my duty. Father will be handled, but you have other things to take care of.”
He was right about that. “Tell Sarah thank you again,” I said.
“I told you I would. I will as soon as I leave here,” Leo said.
“It’s three in the morning. You’re going to call her?” I asked.
“Why would I not?” Leo responded.
I shook my head, knowing that on an ordinary day I would’ve laughed at my brother’s cluelessness. He thought nothing of calling his employee at three in the morning but then while Leo didn’t have all of my father’s more unsavory traits, patience and consideration were ones that he definitely had missed out on.
But he’d also saved my ass tonight, though his help had probably been far too late. His assistant Sarah had mentioned that she hadn’t seen me at Dallas’s show, and Leo, who didn’t seem particularly interested in my life usually had pieced two and two together. And when he had called and Dalton had refused to patch him in, he’d come over. I still wasn’t sure what he had said to get Dalton to open the door, and I didn’t care. I wanted to scream at my father, knock his teeth out, but Leo was right. I would leave my father to him and go to Dallas.
“You got Marta home?” I asked.
“You care?” he shot back.
“Just answer the damn question.”
“Yes. Ms. Rivar has been seen to.”
I didn’t wait another second, didn’t even bother with a goodbye and rushed to my car.
I prayed I would find Dallas at home or maybe in her studio, and I prayed even harder that she would hear me out.
The fifteen-minute journey felt like an eternity, but when I reached Dallas’s building, I didn’t rush in immediately.
This felt monumental, like everything that mattered hung in the balance, and I was far more nervous than I should have been. But I had to trust that Dallas would know I would always be there for her and hope that she would understand.
I used my key to let myself in.
The silence as I walked through Dallas’s space was deafening.
I didn’t even have to look everywhere to know that the place was empty. There was none of Dallas’s essence here, nothing of her.
She was gone.
I looked around and my gaze landed on the bookshelf, drawn to a picture of her and me back in college.
I walked toward it and then noticed a piece of paper next to it, one with my name written in Dallas’s bold, slightly messy script.
The sense of foreboding and loss that I had felt before intensified, and I approached the note cautiously, not wanting to read it.
But I did.
Kristian,
I’ll keep this to the point.
I’m going to stop wasting your time. This thing with you has been fun, and I’m appreciative of your help. But we have to cut the cord.
You need to be with Marta or someone like her. Someone who is princess material.
Someone good enough.
That will never be me.
In time, I hope we’ll be able to talk, but for now it’s best that we don’t.
See you around,
Dallas
That was it.
I could feel her shaken confidence in her words, and wished she was near so I could tell her how wrong she was, then tell her how much I loved her.
But I didn’t have a chance because she’d left a note and thought that was that.
I carefully folded the note and put it back where I had found it.
Leo had told me about my father’s visit to Dallas’s show, and I could only imagine what crap he filled her head with.
Crap she appeared to believe.
Believe enough to end things between us.
Though the moment was definitely wrong for it, I smiled. Dallas thought it was going to be as simple as that. That she could leave a note and that was that.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
I’d been a fool not to notice before, but I knew now.
I loved her, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
I wouldn’t give Dallas up without a fight.
Dallas
“How long would you like to extend your stay for?” the prim and proper hotel receptionist asked.
“One more night,” I responded.
“Very well. Thank you, Ms. Dallas,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” I hung up the phone and then flopped back into bed.
The mattress was soft, the pillows comfortable and inviting, the room fabulous, the nicest one I had ever stayed in that Kristian hadn’t sprung for.
I had been a coward and stayed away from my home, but decided that if I was going to be on the run, it might as well be in a nice environment. That had to end. I’d sold all of my drawings, but if I didn’t check out this hotel soon, the money I’d made would be gone far too soon.
I wasn’t ready for this to be over, but I had to face reality eventually.
When I was in this hotel, I didn’t have to confront the fact that Kristian and I were over, didn’t have to think about what it looked like to make my life without him. Leaving was the right thing, and I knew even more that there was no place for me in his world, but that didn’t mean it was easy.
The simple truth was I loved him, and suspected I always would.
The tears I had managed to keep at bay for over a week threatened, and yet again I fought them off.
I refused to let myself cry. Knew that if the first tear fell, so many more would come with it and I wasn’t ready for that.
Not yet.
I lay in bed for a couple more hours, watching terrible afternoon television, but soon, I began to pack. I had simply grabbed what I could when I left the show and didn’t have much of anything. I canceled that next night in the hotel.
It was time for me to go home.
I had put the last of my clothes in my duffel when I heard a knock on the door.
In my bones, I knew who it was but checked to be sure and found Kristian standing on the other side.
I didn’t open the door immediately. Instead I watched, debated, wondered what I would do.
Things had moved between us peacefully, smoothly, for so many years that I’d allowed myself to think it would always be that way. The last several months had proved me so very wrong.
At least initially, the change had been the best kind, and I’d known Kristian had changed my life yet again. That good had something new, something different, something I didn’t know that I wanted to reckon with.
Didn’t know that I had the strength to reckon with.
But what was the alternative?
Turn him away.
My head told me to do that, told me it would be for the best. I was on the verge of breaking the promise I had made myself when I was so young, the one where I swore I would never cry over someone, I’d never give anyone that kind of power over me.
I had done that with Kristian, and ignoring him now, turning and walking away would be me taking that power back.
What would I be giving up?
I knew the answer to that. I’d already lost what we had been building.
And now I’d lose our friendship too.
Oh, things would cool off, and then we would have some surface, shallow conversation, tell each other that everything was fine, and then try to pretend that nothing had changed. But everything had changed, and the idea of
pretending like everything was all right was one that made me physically ill.
Heartbreak was something that would take a very long time for me to get over, but the alternative, me and Kristian pretending that none of this had ever happened, that was something I couldn’t bear.
And ultimately, wanting to avoid that was what made me open the door.
“Took you long enough,” Kristian said when we finally stood face-to-face.
“I was debating whether or not to let you in,” I whispered.
Kristian hadn’t been smiling, not exactly, but at my words, his face took on a solemnness that shook me to my core.
“I’m glad you decided to,” he said.
I stepped aside and opened the door wider, silently allowing him entry.
He walked in like coming to my hotel room was the most natural thing, like he belonged here.
He didn’t, and knowing that only made the pain of this moment that much stronger.
There would be none of that in the future. Kristian in my studio, walking around like he owned the place. Me going to his penthouse, walking around like I owned the place.
Now, all that, the comfort, the connection, at least on my end, the love, would be tinged with the pain of loss.
The tears I had managed to keep at bay for weeks threatened again, and it was only through sheer grit that I kept them back. My vision blurred as I walked behind Kristian, praying as hard as I could that I could keep my emotions in check, at least get through this conversation.
“What are you doing here?” I finally asked.
“What do you think?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question. How did you find me?”
“Don’t answer my questions with questions. And to answer your question, how do you think I found you?” he said.
I frowned, then shook my head. I hadn’t really tried to hide myself, but then I hadn’t thought Kristian would be looking. If he wanted to find me though, I was certain that he or someone in his family would have the resources to do so.
“Were you trying to hide from me?” he asked.