Guarding Her: A Secret Baby Romance

by Lexi Whitlow

  “Yeah, it’s me.” His voice sounds tired, and he pants like he’s been running or fighting.

  My voice shakes. “Tell me you’re okay.”

  “I am. Are you okay, Mal? Is the baby okay? My mother had a meltdown, and I’ve been in the hospital with her—I didn’t have my phone—”

  “Is your mother okay?” It’s hard to take it all in all at once.

  “Well, that’s the thing. Things took an unexpected turn. Do you guys still have that TV connected to the antenna?”

  “Yeah.” Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart starts to beat faster. If Matthias actually went to the hospital with his mother, something must have been truly wrong. It’s not like they have a solid relationship.

  “Turn it on.”

  I walk up to the TV and click it on, Emilie watching me as I do so. The screen of our old television takes a while to come on, but when it does, I see an image of Matthias and the woman I assume is his sister. There are also pictures of another young woman, one with red hair.

  “Is that Caryn? And what are they saying about some kind of marriage?” I swallow hard and sit down on the chair that faces the TV. Emilie comes and joins me, perching on the edge of the chair. “You’re not—”

  “No, no, I’m not. I’m married to you. And it’s going to stay that way. But I’ve been crowned king—my father died last night. And there is a wedding next month. But it doesn’t have anything to do with me—”

  “King?” I croak out the word, and Emilie grabs my hand. “So soon? Your father?”

  On the television, the reporter drones on about Matthias’s father, reviewing the not-so-high points of his monarchy. There’s a picture of Matthias’s mother entering the hospital, and a long line of bodyguards following her.

  I lean my head back and close my eyes. I can still hear the commotion playing out on the TV, my brain rapidly translating from French to English.

  “Holy shit,” Emilie says. “It looks like Matthias changed the law. Adelaide is getting married to that girl, Caryn. And then she’ll be—”

  “After the wedding, Addy’s taking the monarchy, like we discussed,” Matthias says into my ear.

  “I know you said you thought there was something going on with those two,” I say, glancing at Emilie. Em’s mouth is agape, and I don’t blame her. Same sex marriage hasn’t entered the monarchy, not in any European—or any other—country that I can name. “You didn’t tell me they wanted to get married. Aren’t they a bit young?”

  Matthias laughs. “It’s a good world when the biggest thing people are worried about is that these ladies are too young. Yes. They’re young. And I’m changing the law because they can do whatever the hell they want. And before the wedding is even all the way planned, I’m abdicating. And I’m coming home to you.”

  “Matthias—you don’t have to do that. You get your sister where she needs to be and figure out the rest of your life from there.”

  “That’s the thing, Mal. My life is with you. Adelaide knows that. She’s smart—and she doesn’t need me here. I’ll come back for her wedding, and hopefully you’ll come with me. But I want to start looking for a place with you. A real house where we can be a family. Or an apartment. Or whatever. When Addy’s queen, she’ll give me access to my full inheritance. And we can do what we want. Paris. Amsterdam. Rome. Southeast Asia. I don’t care.”

  The tears start to sting my eyes. It doesn’t matter—it hasn’t mattered where I am. If Matthias is with me, I’ll be happy. I put my hand to my belly. “Anywhere except Florida. It is lovely there this time of year—but I think my home is in Europe now.”

  “Maybe Amsterdam, then.”

  “Maybe,” I say. “We could take it back to the beginning. Wherever I am with you is home.”

  Beside me, Emilie laughs and makes a fake gagging sound.

  “Me too, Mal. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. More than I can say.” Tears roll down my cheeks. “Come home. Or well—come here, and we’ll find our home. I swear we will.”

  Matthias tells me more of the story while the TV drones on, Emilie’s eyes glued to it. There’s far more than the TV is telling—and I’m thankful that for once, the media doesn’t know the whole of the story. It’s far better for Addy and Matthias that way.

  I hang up, content with the knowledge that my husband is coming home. By the time he gets here, he won’t be a king anymore. And unlike the news program says of me, I don’t give a happy damn what Matthias’s role is in the North Islands.

  I just want him home. Home with me.

  And I know he’ll be here soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Matthias

  “It’s a sacrifice you have to make, Matthias.” Addy looks at me and straightens my tie.

  “When people talk about sacrifices, they’re often talking about things people don’t want to do. I’m happy to make this sacrifice.” I look at myself in the mirror. Addy picked out a dark blue suit and a deep blue tie. It isn’t my normal style, but it will have to suffice for the announcement. “I never did want the throne.”

  She puts a hand on my shoulder. “But your child won’t have any claim to it either. Not directly.”

  “I don’t want him to have that. And neither does Mal. The North Islands may be the place where I was born. But it’s not my real home.” I look at her, and my sister wears a sad expression.

  Caryn steps into the room and takes Addy’s arm affectionately, leaning on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this, you know. All we want is to get married.”

  “And I thought for months that you just wanted to be a princess,” I say. The way that Caryn looks at Addy tells me everything I need to know about her intentions.

  “I do,” Caryn says. “Just not with you. You’re plenty good looking, but just not my type.”

  I laugh, and then I sigh. I don’t have much love for my mother, and I rarely even spoke to my father in all of my years. It seems surreal that he died two days ago, and the guilt still hangs over Addy, and over me. His wasn’t an enviable life, but it feels like it ended because of us, even though the doctors swear he was headed to death that day and had requested compassionate euthanasia as his dying wish.

  It doesn’t change the fact that he died hours after we told him we’d had him declared unfit to run the country. Behind his back, with a government who had been seeking to overthrow him and mother for a generation.

  His eyes were sad when we went into the royal chambers, Addy standing next to me.

  But Mother—she was the one with the truly frightening response.

  This is the respect you give me—after I found the perfect wife for you. After I arranged all of our lives to suit your needs. I even had that girl checked at the doctor. Just as fertile as your whore back home…

  The stream of insults went on long enough.

  And then Addy’s face had turned red.

  She’s only here because of me. Remember who suggested Caryn? It was me. She’s in love with me, and she’s the one I’m going to marry. And as soon as Matthias has been sitting on the throne for a week, long enough to get the government back in something that passes for working order, he’s leaving. And I’m taking over. My first act as queen is to marry Caryn. My second act is to get the hell out of this country, finish college, and leave it to parliament to fix your goddamn mess.

  I’ve never heard Addy’s voice more passionate, more assured, or louder than I did at that instant. After years of sinking into our parents’ role for her, she was, at that moment, done.

  If my mother hadn’t already gone insane, Addy’s speech sent her over the edge. She had to be dragged away by her guards. It was a final indignity—knowing that her loyal guards now belonged to her son and daughter. The very people who had schemed against her. Shortly after my mother entered protective care on the psych ward at the North Islands hospital, my father passed away in his sleep. The commotion didn’t seem to have much effect on him, but it seemed he was resigned to his fate
—and the fate of his country. At a certain point in any life, even in a country’s life, it’s time for change. This might be a bigger one than the North Islands ever expected.

  “I’m ready, Addy. You need to come out there with me for this to look right,” I say, standing up. We’re all crowded into my room at the palace, waiting to go announce to the media that Adelaide Albring will be taking over the rule of this country—and I’ll be returning home to Amsterdam, to be with my wife and future son.

  Addy takes my hand, and we both walk out into the main hall together, where we meet the press and both stand in front of them. When the questions quiet down, I clear my throat and begin to speak.

  “As king of the North Islands, I care about my subjects and their lives here in this country. After my father’s illness and death, I know a lot of you have been worried about the fate of the country. Since it’s now in the hands of a playboy prince who never seemed to care about the country, I can see where you’re going from.”

  There’s nervous laughter from the reporters and the other citizens in attendance. I wait for the noise to die down before I look to Addy. She nods at me.

  “Some of you may also know I recently married, and that my wife is expecting a boy. It’s with a heavy heart that I announce I’ll be leaving the North Islands to be with her. Family is the most important thing to me—”

  There are titters and questions from the audience, but I raise my hand to stop them. In my few days to stop them, I feel like that benefit is one thing I might miss.

  “And I’ll be leaving because I that’s what I want for my life. A simple one, with a family by my side.” I glance to Addy again. “That’s why I’ll be stepping down from my position as king. Adelaide has always been far more intelligent than I am, and she has a mind and passion for politics. She and I have worked with the government to amend our laws to allow for her to take the throne. And our parliament has agreed that she has the right to marry anyone she pleases—as does anyone in this country.”

  A hush falls over the crowd. And I smile. “It’s 2016.”

  “It is,” says Addy, stepping forward. “And while I finish my education, our capable government will take charge of decision making. I hope to take my own place in parliament when I return with my degrees, but for now, we’ll be taking our cues from the other constitutional monarchies in the European Union. And with time, hopefully we’ll be able to join the EU, even after our difficult history.”

  Addy speaks on, the reporters hanging on her every word. She’s incandescent, my sister. And I’m grateful that I’ve been fortunate enough to be surrounded by intelligent women who know their own minds.

  All of this is a different future than I’d imagined.

  And the media that follows me around for the next week—and back to the mainland when I return three weeks later, isn’t exactly a welcome part of this life. But it all feels worth it when I arrive in Paris with two train tickets to Amsterdam.

  When I climb the stairs to Mallory’s apartment, my heart pounds hard in my chest. When she opens the door, her curls falling longer around her face and ears than they did before I left, she might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in any of my living years. Without saying a word, I pull her into my arms and kiss her hard, my body melding with hers even as we stand in the doorway. I may no longer be a prince, but Mallory makes me feel more royal than I ever have.

  “You both need to get a room!” Emilie throws a crumpled up piece of paper in our direction, but then she ushers us both inside and pours tall glasses of wine for me and her. She points out an expensive bottle of red she’s saving for her trip to come see us after the baby comes.

  “I’ve been missing my wine,” Mal says, drawing Emilie into a hug. “And you need to keep sending me these maternity clothes. I’m barely stylish as it is. You’re the only one keeping me from getting arrested by the fashion police.”

  We all laugh, and we point out that the dresses she and Emilie sent to Addy and Caryn for their wedding gift were exquisite. Mal makes noises about doubting they’ll ever get around to wearing them. But her blush tells me she knows better. Mal and Emilie are an unbeatable creative team, and I slip into conversation that Em might want to join us in Amsterdam when she’s done with Studio Bercot. I want my wife to keep on giving her talent to the world—as long as I get to wake up next to her everyday.

  There’s laughter and wine late into the evening. And I fall into bed with Mal at the end of the night, making love to her gently. We fall asleep in each other’s arms, confident in our plan to leave for Amsterdam and find an apartment in the morning.

  Our lives now will be the happy ending we both deserve, played out every day. There may be pitfalls and mistakes, failures that we’ll both have to face, but as long as we have each other, we’ll have our stability and our home.

  When we wake in the morning, we pack. Mal says a tearful goodbye to another member of our family we never thought we’d have—Emilie. On our way to the station, she leans against me and holds my hand tight.

  “We can look for a place in Paris too, Mal.”

  “It wasn’t ever my home, Matthias. I love Emilie, and I liked the Studio. But the brief time I was in Amsterdam, I felt like it was finally my dream come true. Like a fairy tale I’d been waiting for my entire life.”

  “Like Beauty and the Beast? I am pretty beastly.”

  “More like Sleeping Beauty. Except instead of waking me up, you knocked me up.”

  “And does the princess like it that I did?” I pat her belly and turn her to kiss me when we reach the station. Both of us have so few belongings now, we really are like tourists. If we got a few high speed rail tickets, we could probably pass for Americans just graduated from college.

  “Yes. It means I’m yours. And you know I like that.” She blushes and looks down. “And I have to say, getting on a train with you makes me a little more excited than I should be…”

  “It’s a conditioned response at this point, Mal.”

  “With good reason, don’t you think?”

  “I do.” I grab my pregnant wife’s ass, and she jumps, laughing. Together, we walk into the train station and board our ride for Amsterdam.

  The baby will be here in the spring, and we’ll be settled by then.

  For now, we have a train ride to look forward to.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Mallory

  Four Months Later…

  At thirty-six weeks pregnant, I’m more than ready for my baby to come. And I’ve been more than ready to be home with Matthias and our beautiful baby since I was sixteen weeks pregnant—right after he left for the North Islands.

  It was cold when he left, and Christmas came and went without any fanfare. I’d never really had eventful Christmases—my mother didn’t believe in them—but dear Emilie had tried to make ours special, with mulled wine I couldn’t drink, cheeses my stomach still couldn’t tolerate, and a holiday ham that actually ended up being pretty good. We even had a tiny, Charlie Brown style Christmas tree that sat by our window. I put lights on it from the pharmacy across the street, just to let the little boy growing inside of me know that there would be good holidays to come. I promised him that silently the night I turned on those blinking white lights.

  “Your first Christmas in the world will be far better than this one. And your father will be there. He tells me he will be.”

  And toward the end of my second trimester, long into the cold, gray Parisian winter, Matthias finally came home.

  His face was thinner, like he’d worried himself thin, like he’d aged while he was away.

  And with the news I kept up with on my phone and on the television, I could see why he had.

  After his father’s death and his mother’s mental breakdown, I wouldn’t expect him to be the same man he was. Even though Adelaide’s very public wedding and her own partial abdication were seen as incredibly positive for the small, backward country, the family drama took its toll on Matthias.


  And I wasn’t there to make it better.

  Yes, he’s a changed man. I look at him across the apartment he and I are sharing in Amsterdam. He’s reading a book on photography, and there are stacks of applications from schools and programs across the country sitting next to him.

  He’s still bad sometimes—foul-mouthed, opinionated, and arrogant. He’s still dirty. Since I’ve been showing, he can’t keep his hands off of me, telling me that he’s never felt more possessive, or more in love.

  But he’s a man now, more than a prince. We’ve invested the money from his inheritance, and both of us are looking at schools. There’s more to life than gallivanting around Europe, and I think we both know that now. We proved it to each other.

  “Maybe we should go out tonight,” I say, leaning back in my chair. My own letter from the International School of Fashion should be arriving any day, and I’ll be able to defer and accept until next fall, when the baby starts to need me less. “Last few weeks of freedom.”

  The baby kicks and squirms, deep and low, pressing down on my bladder when he does. I place my hand where I think his foot is and feel it kick once, twice, and three times. I think he knows it’s me—and when Matthias leans into my belly and kisses it, the baby goes wild, his feet tap-dancing against the top of my belly, arms and elbows wiggling and jamming into the tops of my hips.

  “I’d like that, lieverd. But what I’d really like to do is keep you home. You’re so perfect like you are, and I want to touch you while you still want me.”

  “I’ll always want you.” I say it, my voice matter-of-fact. I’m as sure of that as I am of anything, and it’s clear to me that this feeling won’t fade. There might be times when our life readjusts to the next adventure, like the one growing inside of me, but I’ll always want—always need—this man’s touch. My heart leaps, and heat pools between my legs. My body might be fatigued, but the desire courses through me like a tempest. If anything, I feel a stronger longing for Matthias and his body now that I’m carrying his child within me, a craving only he can satisfy.