The Prince’s Bride (Part 1)

by J. J. McAvoy

  “No, wait. What’s going on?”

  “Come on.” I pulled her out into the cold.

  “Fine, don’t tell me.” She huffed. “But at least bring one of them for next weekend. Malik is having a second youth active day.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, we’re good?”

  “Yes, we’re good.” I would say anything at this point to get her to leave.

  She nodded and walked off my porch to her red Porsche. “See you later.”

  I waved and waited for her to drive off, shivering again and running back inside. Gale was back where I left him, the rest of everyone else now gone.

  “You and your sister are a bit alike,” he stated.

  “We are not,” I said.

  “If you say so. Are you still mad at her?”

  “She refuses to let me be,” I muttered, standing in front of him. “And now that she thinks I’m apparently interviewing all of you for my future husband. I don’t have the right to be mad, either.”

  “Wolfgang is too young for you. And Iskandar...well, he’s married to his career, so that’s not an option, either.”

  “Taking out your competition?” I teased.

  “Am I still in the race?”

  “You are the only one—only one competing,” I added that second part quickly. “If you still want to, I guess. You don’t seem as enthusiastic as before I left, though.”

  “I’m trying a new approach,” he replied. “My brother told me to try to be your friend first. However, you are really making that hard for me.”

  His gaze dropped to chest again, so I crossed my arms over my nipples quickly. Why were they so damn sensitive? Jeez!

  “I’m not doing it on purpose.”

  “That’s the problem.” His face was closer to mine now, and I couldn’t look away from his lips. “You are not doing anything, and yet I keep thinking about you, wanting you. I am not just saying that, either. If you knew how badly I wanted to kiss you...you’d disappear again or reject me again. So, I am trying to take it slow...very slow.”

  I didn’t want very slow, though.

  “So here is to our growing friendship.” He stretched out his hand.

  I saw and ignored it, closing the distance between our lips.

  She was evil.

  She was purposely trying to torture me.

  And I was just going to let her because it felt so damn good. Feeling her lips on mine as I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her body against mine, and doing exactly what I had wanted to do for days now had me overflowing with excitement. When her mouth opened for me and her breasts brushed up against my chest, my heart began to pound faster, and I knew I was in heaven. I wanted to stay there so badly. I wanted to kiss her like this until the sun rose and set again.

  If only, I thought as our lips separated. When I opened my eyelids, her brown eyes seemed to sparkle. Sighing, I put my forehead to hers, holding her face.

  “Why are you torturing me like this?” I whispered, truly hoping she would answer. “Why am I always on the wrong page with you? When I tried to get closer to you, you backed away. When I back away, you come close. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Think of it like dancing?” she replied half-heartedly, reaching up to place her hands over my own. “I’m sorry if I’m confusing you. But I’m confused, too. I get scared when you get close. But I don’t want you to back away, either.”

  “Why are you scared?”

  “Because I do not like to be hurt and men seem to always the worst.”

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  She frowned and tried to step back. “No one ever starts out thinking they will, but somewhere down the line they do, Gale.”

  I held her still. “I, Prince Galahad Fitzhugh Cornelius Edgar of the House of Monterey, will not hurt you, Odette.”

  She opened her mouth, but I shook my head.

  “Remember what I told you on our first date,” I said, brushing her curls from her face. “Do not try to look at the end. Instead, enjoy the present with me.” I was not sure what she was trying to see in my eyes, but she stared for a long time before nodding.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?” I asked, not sure if I heard her over the sound of my heart beating.

  “Okay, I will date you.”

  I grinned. I would take it. Letting go of her, I stepped out of their study. “Iskandar? Wolfgang? I am ready to go.”

  “You’re leaving?” She gaped, amazed. “Just like that.”

  “Yes. If I stay any longer, I’m worried you will feel the need to push me away.” I smiled. “I will come close, and then I will back off to give you space until you get used to me.”

  She made a face at me. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “We will see. For now, I do not plan on risking it.” I winked.

  She didn’t get to reply as Iskandar and Wolfgang came toward me. Wolfgang gave me my coat.

  “Goodnight,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself as she came to the door to see me off.

  I wanted to kiss her again so badly. “Goodnight,” I said and nearly slipped because I was watching her and not my own feet.

  “Hmm...” She actually clamped her lips to hold back her laughter.

  You bloody idiot! I mentally cursed. Standing straighter, I waved back and headed to the car, wanting to smack the grin off Iskandar’s freckled face.

  It was only once inside that I just fell onto the back seat.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  And why did my heart keep beating so hard?

  Chapter 19

  “Don’t say anything,” I said to my mother when I walked back into the kitchen.

  She sat, smugly drinking her evening tea. “Why would I say a thing? It’s not like my beautiful daughter finally came to her senses and took my advice.”

  “By saying that, you are saying something,” I muttered, lifting the stack of bills she must have picked up while pretending she wasn’t spying on us. “I can’t believe you just let all of these pile up.”

  “Someone is changing the subject,” she sang, leaning over the counter and wiggling her eyebrows. “It was Disney, right? When you kiss a prince, do you see fireworks?”

  I rolled my eyes so hard my head felt heavy. “First, I don’t think Disney created that notion. Second, it was just a kiss, Mom, so chill. Can we talk about these now?”

  “Why would you want to be depressed over bills when we could be gushing about boys?”

  “Because I’m not six. I’m an adult. I’m adulting.” Why was she like this?

  “You aren’t six, but you definitely need some se—”

  “Mom!” I cut her off. “You’re supposed to tell me to be careful so I don’t get my heart broken.”

  “If anyone does any heartbreaking, it will be you. Poor Gale has been bending over backward for your attention—”

  “You owe a half-million in lawyer fees?” I snapped, reading the first bill. Quickly, I opened the second one just to see more zeroes, each one of them worse than the last to the point where my stomach began to churn. “How do we owe so much!”

  “See what I mean? Now you’re depressed,” she joked, but this was serious.

  “Mom, we owe millions. How can you be joking right now? Look at all of these mortgages, late fees, car notes, what?”

  “Why are you so shocked?” she questioned, still too calm for the situation we were in.

  “What do you mean, why am I shocked? Look at these.”

  “Our bills are exactly the same as they were last year and the year before. But the only difference now is your father is not taking care of them. You are. Welcome to the land of adulting. You are late. The richer you are, the higher your bills are. Just because you are not spending money doesn’t mean you do not have bills. All the assets your father left still need to be run and paid. Now that Augusta has her share, the rest is on you to take on or give up. That is how this works.”

  I pushed her to mom m
ode, and now I was getting ripped a new one for it. She was all but saying I was spoiled. She was right. My father did take care of everything. It allowed me to focus on my music, and I had fooled myself into believing I was independent when I truly was a trust-fund baby.

  “What do I do? The money I made from my shows can’t even cover the lawyers’ fees.”

  “Get. Married. Like your younger sister wisely did. You don’t have to be in love with him. You at least like him. That is more than you have had with anyone in a long while,” she directed. I wanted to bring up what Yvonne had brought up to me before.

  I wanted to ask her about my father. But I couldn’t. How could I? What right did I have to know?

  “Do not overthink everything, Odette. You like him, obviously. Don’t make it so hard on yourself,” she said to me, getting off her chair and walking away.

  Ugh.

  I just kissed him. How was I going to go off and marry him?

  “I shouldn’t have opened these,” I muttered to myself, tossing the bills onto the table and going upstairs.

  Augusta’s rant came to mind. She was right. With everything we had to manage and take care of, just getting a job wouldn’t cover it. Singing and songwriting gave me more money than most average jobs did, and I still couldn’t take care of it all.

  “What an empire you built,” I said gently, looking at the picture frame beside my bed. Kicking off my shoes, I pulled my curls into a French braid and tied up my hair in a silk scarf. And after that, I was too tired to change. I just lay on my bed.

  “Dad. I kissed a prince today. It’s all part of Mom’s master plan. Can you believe it?” I spoke out, wishing he was still here to laugh with me, yell at me, advise me. “Should I do it, Dad? Should I just marry him? He swore to me... he said, ‘I, Prince Galahad Fitzhugh Cornelius Edgar of the House of Monterey, will not hurt you, Odette.’ Can I trust him?”

  Like always, I couldn’t hear his voice, and I got no answers. Instead, my eyes started to drift shut.

  AGE FOUR

  “Baby, hear me out! It was a mistake!”

  “I don’t care! Get out!”

  Smash.

  I jumped, seeing the glass fly into the hall.

  “For years, they called me a homewrecker! The press was in my goddamn face every time I stepped outside, and you do this? How the hell could you do this to me?”

  “It was a mistake!”

  “How do you make this mistake, Marvin? How? Did you just fall into bed with her?”

  “Baby, breathe.”

  “I am not your baby! I am not your anything, you son of a bitch!”

  Smash.

  I gripped on tighter.

  “You are going to wake up Odette!”

  “Let her wake up! Let her see what kind of useless—”

  Smash

  “Piece of shit you are.”

  Smash

  “Let her know her father destroyed our lives because he couldn’t keep it in his pants!”

  “Wilhelmina, I can’t talk to you like this!”

  “I don’t want to talk to you! I don’t want to see you! I don’t want to hear you lie to my face again! Get out!”

  “I’m not going to leave you like this with Odette.”

  “Oh, don’t pretend you care about us now! Go to your new family or your old family. I don’t care anymore!”

  “That is not fair! You—”

  “Not fair? Not fucking fair? That is my line! You are not fair! You ruined us! You ruined everything! Get out! I swear I will call the police if you don’t get out!”

  Smash

  “Enough! Stop! You want me to fucking leave, then I will!”

  I ran down the stairs as he walked toward the door.

  “Daddy, no!” I called out to him.

  He looked up to me. His brown eyes looked puffy and red. “Odette, go back to your room.”

  “Don’t go, Daddy. Please,” I begged, rushing down the stairs, holding his sleeve. I tried to pull, but he wouldn’t come with me.

  “I’ll see you later, okay, sweetheart?” he said to me, petting my head. “Go back to bed.”

  “Daddy—”

  He yanked his arm away and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  “No, Daddy.” I yanked on the door over and over again before it opened, and I jumped out.

  “Odette?” Mommy called, but I saw him getting into his car.

  “Daddy!” I screamed, trying to get to his car.

  “Odette, stop!” My mommy was wrapped around me, holding me to her.

  “Mommy, no.” I struggled and wiggled, but she held me tighter. She lifted me from the ground, and I watched as my dad pulled out of the driveway.

  “Mommy, Daddy’s going! Bring him back!”

  She didn’t listen. She carried me back into the house, and I watched the red lights behind his car as they went down the street. My eyes started to water, and when I couldn’t see him anymore, I began to cry. My whole face and body hurt—my nose, my eyes, my stomach, and my throat—but I kept crying.

  “Odette,” Mommy whispered, setting me back down. “Sweetheart, stop crying, please. Mommy’s heart hurts, seeing you crying.”

  I tried, but it wouldn’t stop. So she hugged me tightly, sitting on the floor with me and rocking, too. When I felt her tears, hot on my back, mine stopped. Coming out of her arms, I reached up and brushed her face. “It’s okay, Mommy. Daddy will come back.”

  She smiled, cleaning my face, too. “Sweetheart, it might be just you and me for some time.”

  I shook my head. “No. Daddy is coming back.”

  I knew it.

  PRESENT

  When I woke up, there were tears in my eyes. I tried to wipe them away, but they rolled down my checks anyway. It was so weird, like I had no control, even though I didn’t want to be crying. It was decades ago. I got out of bed and washed my face before trying to go back to bed to sleep. It was still five in the morning, but each time I did close my eyes, I kept seeing those memories again. I didn’t know anything back then, and I truly thought my dad was just going to come back when he was feeling better. But he never did.

  “I’m going to give myself a headache,” I muttered and felt the urge to go to my mom’s room to just talk to her. But I didn’t want to bring these memories back to her. Nor did I want to talk to Augusta, for obvious reasons.

  “I really have no other friends?” I frowned.

  I did have friends, but we never talked about stuff like this or our family problems. Apparently, doing that was a sign of weakness. Rich and powerful people never spoke about family issues to outsiders. Ever.

  Gale does, my mind reminded me. And I looked at my phone just sitting there. He’s not going to be awake, I thought but still reached for my phone and texted.

  Are you awake?

  There wasn’t a reply, and I felt disappointed even though I knew he wouldn’t be. “You’re a mess, Odette,” I confessed, tossing my phone to the side.

  However, it vibrated just as it hit the sheets. And I dashed for it.

  Yes. Thank you for saving me.

  Saving you? How?

  I went to work out with Iskandar this morning. The man is not human.

  I laughed. It can’t be that bad.

  We have been up since 3:30 a.m.

  My mouth dropped open, and before I had the chance to type, that’s ridiculous, my phone began to ring. I started to panic before wondering why the hell I was panicking. Just answer the phone! I mentally yelled at myself before answering. “Hello?”

  “Hi, good morning. Sorry, my arms are too heavy to keep typing,” Gale said between deep breaths.

  “You have been working out for almost two hours?”

  “It was not the time that was the problem. It was the intensity. I have no idea what has gotten into Iskandar. But he is still working out.”

  “What? You’re right. He isn’t human. What do you call aliens in Ersovian?”

  “Aliens.” He chuckled. “N
ever mind about him. Is anything wrong?”

  “Why would anything be wrong?”

  “I remember you sending me a letter explicitly explaining how you enjoy dreaming and not to wake you up. Yet now, you are up earlier than when I did. So why are you not dreaming, Odette?”

  I was starting to regret that letter. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come out.

  “Is it about me?”

  “No,” I said quickly and sighed. “I’m not dreaming because each time I do, I keep remembering my dad.”

  He was quiet, and when he spoke again, his voice was much softer. “I heard he passed last year.”

  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see. “He had a heart attack. Well, the doctor said it was sudden cardiac death brought on by stress.”

  “I am truly sorry,” he whispered. “Is that what’s keeping you up? You are thinking of him.”

  “Yes, but not about his death,” I replied, lying back onto my pillows. “I keep remembering the day he left my mom.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Sorry, this is such a depressing conversation. I don’t mean to keep complaining to you—”

  “Back home, no one ever talks about their issues or pain. Everyone just goes on as if nothing has hurt them, as if they are above it all. No one is honest about how they feel. It is refreshing to know you are so honest about yourself and your life.”

  “Most people dislike that about me. They think I’m doing it for attention.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe they are just not ready to be honest.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is your father one of the men who hurt you?”

  I froze. Why did I say that to him?

  “My dad was a good father.”

  “I never said he wasn’t.”

  Both of us were silent for some time. He didn’t push me to speak, either.

  And I finally felt strong enough to talk about it. “That day, I begged him not to go, but he left anyway. I told my mom that he’d come back. I was so sure he would. But I didn’t see him for months after. He called me, of course, but I didn’t see him until one day he picked me up to spend the weekend with him. I was so excited. But when I got to his house, there was Yvonne and my new baby sister.”