by Renna Peak
He leans forward. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters. It matters more than anything.”
“You don’t understand, though. You don’t really understand anything.”
“I understand that I am the father of that child. And that I have rights—”
“Not here, you don’t. Here…” I motion around the room. “Here, I get to make the decisions.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t just…” He shakes his head again. “You can’t just make a decision like that. Not without speaking to me about it first.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself. I finally open them, glaring across at him. “You can’t really be saying this to me. After everything—”
“How many times must I apologize? How many times do I really have to tell you how sorry I am—?”
“At least a dozen more. At least.” Tears fill my eyes. “You have some double standard, Your Highness.”
“It isn’t like that—”
“Isn’t it? You decide I’ll marry you. You decide you’ll annul our marriage. You decide to come here without being invited. Why do you get to make all the decisions in my life now? You think my father and brother are somehow incapable of making decisions for me as they’ve always done?”
“I think that when they find out—”
“Oh, yes, William, when they find out about this, I know exactly what they’ll do. Exactly what they did the last time. Yes, I know what happens when they find out.”
“Like…last time?” His words are slow, and he tilts his head. “What do you mean, the last time?”
My cheeks burn—I hadn’t even realized I’d said anything. I can barely raise my voice above a whisper now. “I think you should go.”
“I know what you think I should do.” His eyebrows draw together. “What last time was there, Justine?”
I shake my head. “I misspoke.”
“No, I know all about when you say you’ve misspoken. It means you’re hiding something from me. What last time was there, Princess?”
“It isn’t important now.” I close my eyes, trying to drown out the memories of that day. “Please…please just go.”
“I’ve already told you, I’m not going anywhere.” He rises, walking over to sit beside me. “Tell me now. What happened last time?”
“You’re an idiot, William. You really are. If you truly believe there is any choice in this matter at all, you are truly an imbecile—”
He grabs my hand, pulling it into his. “You have a choice. You have a choice to allow me to be a father to my child—”
I interrupt with another shake of my head. “Don’t you see—?”
“We’ll remarry. We…we can have the annulment reversed. Clearly there was no basis—”
“There was a basis, though. And we won’t be remarrying.” I pull my hand from his. “It isn’t going to happen. None of this is going to happen.”
William
I stare at her, trying to understand everything I’ve just learned. Justine is pregnant with my child. But she also refuses to marry me again, to let me have any part in the decisions surrounding this new development.
“Justine,” I say softly, gently, “please, let me be a part of your life. For the child’s sake, if for nothing else.”
She has a stubborn, determined look in her eyes, one that tells me she isn’t likely to back down. But behind that I see her fear, and the deep, deep sadness I’ve caught glimpses of before. I’m still only starting to understand what sort of pain she carries in her heart, why she’s built up all these walls around herself, and my heart breaks for her. No wonder she was so hesitant to trust me. No wonder she’s so hesitant to forgive me—the day I signed that annulment, I betrayed her just like every other man in her life.
I have to show her that I’m on her side.
“This is bigger than either of us,” I tell her, extending my hand to her. “But we have options, Justine. I know you don’t want to think about marriage, but—”
“I’m not marrying you.”
“I know I might not be your favorite person right now, but think of the baby. Don’t you want it to have a father? I want to be a part of its life—and your life. Return to Montovia with me—if you don’t want to be around your family during all of this, there are other options.”
She stares at my still-outstretched hand, wavering. “You’re asking a lot of me.”
“If you’d prefer to stay here, then I’m willing to stay here, too. But you’ll want for nothing in Montovia. You’ll have the best in medical care. Spacious, comfortable living quarters. Any food you could want, at any hour of the day or night… You’d have anything and everything you could ever need.” I pause. “We can even hide you from the media, if you don’t want the tabloids to catch wind of this.”
She’s frowning. “I…I don’t know. Do you really think I should go into hiding for the next seven months?”
I drop my hand. “I’m simply trying to go over our options. The choice is yours, Justine, but rest assured I will do whatever it takes to protect this child.” A child that I didn’t even realize existed until a few moments ago. God, how much has changed. I’m still having trouble processing it, and beyond our immediate concerns, which occupy most of my mind right now, I can feel the emotions battling each other—nerves, excitement, fear, and sheer joy. All tumbling through me.
We’re going to have a baby. I wasn’t lying when I told Justine that I didn’t think this was the best time to have a child—and I don’t think she’d disagree with me—but now that the decision is out of our hands, none of that seems to matter anymore. I remember the rush I felt weeks ago when I first thought about Justine one day carrying my child, then again when I saw my new little nephew, but that feeling was nothing compared to what I feel now. I feel like I’ve just been thrown from an airplane, and it’s the most thrilling, terrifying, and beautiful experience of my life.
I step closer to her, taking her face in my hands.
“What’s your choice, Justine? What do you want to do? Whatever you decide, I promise I’ll be by your side every step of the way—I swear it on the life of my new little nephew.”
She looks up at me, and the sadness and fear are so heavy in her eyes that I wonder if she sees me at all.
“I…I can’t make that decision right now,” she says finally. “This is all…too much. I’m still trying to process everything, and I…I…” Her eyes fall closed and she drops her face.
I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her and drawing her to my chest. I expect her to resist, but she doesn’t, falling against me and burying her face against my shoulder. I hold her close, expecting her to cry, but I feel no dampness against my shirt. Still, I can feel her trembling, feel the shivers of emotion traveling up her spine. She’s lost, she’s afraid, and I’ll do everything in my power to make her feel safe again.
“I’ll be there for you in whatever way I can,” I tell her. “I’ll be there with you at every doctor’s appointment. Rub your feet. Run out in the middle of the night and buy you whatever crazy food you’re craving. Anything you need.”
She shakes her head against me. “This is going to be a lot harder than food cravings and swollen feet.”
“And I’ll help you with all of it,” I promise her again. “Whatever challenges come our way, I’ll be here by your side. I’ll protect you.” I squeeze her tighter, dropping my face so that my lips brush the top of her head. “I’ll protect you from everything.”
A shiver runs down her spine again, and I wonder if she’s going to continue to argue, but instead, she turns her head slightly. Her arms slide around me, embracing me, and the tension I could still feel in her body seems to melt away as she relaxes fully against me, silently accepting my protection, at least for the moment.
And from this moment forward, I will do everything in my power to keep her and our child safe. Even if she refuses my help, I have no intention of giving up or denying my claim t
o the child that grows within her. I’ll protect them both with my dying breath if need be. I’ve treated her poorly, and I know I have a long way to go in regaining her trust, but if I have to spend the rest of my life trying, I will.
I brush my lips against the top of her head again, kissing her hair. God, I missed the smell of her. I missed the warm softness of her in my arms. I missed the silkiness of her hair, the sweetness of her breath against my skin. I dreamed of her every night we were apart—in sleep, at least, I had her in my arms again. It was always torture, waking up and finding her gone.
She shifts, and her mouth brushes against my neck. There’s little doubt that it’s a kiss. Or that the next touch of her lips is another. Slowly, she kisses her way up the side of my throat, and I lower my face, allowing her to continue up over my jaw, too. She traces the line of my face, from one side to the other, and then, finally, she brings her lips to mine.
My body explodes with heat at the first touch of her mouth. I lace my fingers through her hair, holding her face against mine as my tongue presses between her lips. God, I’ve missed the taste of her, too. It’s even better than I remember. All thoughts of her family, of the hard decisions she needs to make, flit out of my head in the wake of the sensations her touch is sending through me. Right now, there’s only her.
After a moment, though, she pulls abruptly away.
“This doesn’t…,” she whispers. “I haven’t decided what I want to do. I just… I just need to not be alone right now.”
“I understand,” I tell her. But I intend to do everything in my power to convince you to return to Montovia with me. As my wife.
Justine
I meant what I said to him when I told him I didn’t want to be alone. I’m just not sure if I can trust him not to leave when things get as bad as I know they’re going to be.
This is all a little too much like last time. James said almost the exact same words to me—telling me he’d never leave me, that he’d never let anything happen to me. Why can’t William understand that this is much bigger than either of us?
He seems to read my doubts, lifting his hands to cup my cheeks. “We don’t have to do anything. Let me…let me take you out.”
I frown. “William, I—”
“Just for something to eat. No other expectations. Just somewhere we can share a meal and talk.”
I search his eyes for a moment. This is what I want. He is what I want. If I have any chance at all of keeping the lives that grow inside me, I have to allow myself to trust him again. I’m just not completely convinced that it’s the best idea.
Even though my stomach is still churning with nausea—and more than a bit of fear—I give him a slight nod.
He grins. “Anywhere you like. We’ll go to the nicest restaurant in this town. Or wherever you want. Just name it—French, Italian—”
“Oatmeal,” I interrupt.
“Oatmeal?” His eyebrows draw together. “Justine, I meant it when I said you can choose anywhere you want—”
“That’s what I want.” I clutch my stomach. “It really isn’t so much that I want it. It’s more that oatmeal is the only thing I seem to be able to hold down besides water for any length of time.”
He grins, dropping his hands and pulling mine into his. “Then we’ll share a meal of oatmeal—”
“I’m sure they serve other things. I…I’ve been mostly ordering carry-out. Bringing it back here to eat. From a diner, just a short walk from here. The smell of the cooking meat…” I shake my head. “Maybe it’s best if we don’t go out.”
“I can go get it for you. Just like I said I would—I’ll do anything for you. Anything at all.”
I look up at him again for a long moment. So many emotions are tumbling around inside me, I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Some combination of trepidation and something else…happiness, maybe. It seems a little early for that, given that William has just come back into my life, but maybe… It’s more than I can allow myself to hope for.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Unless…” He pauses, giving me a hopeful smile. “Unless you’d like to join me? I can’t keep you from the scents, but I’d prefer to have your company. Only if you’re feeling up to it, of course.”
“I will. Join you, I mean. I can take one of my nausea pills…” I motion to the counter where the pill bottle stands. “They help.”
He gives me an encouraging nod, and I go to take the medicine. A moment after I swallow, he has my hand in his, and he leads me out of my dormitory and out to the street.
It’s a chilly night, and I pull my coat tighter. William drops my hand, pulling me closer to him. My eyes flutter closed for a single moment as a pulse of electricity burns through me at his touch—this is how we are meant to be.
Together.
We walk to the diner with no words between us—none seem to be needed, at least not at this moment. If it could always be like this, things would be perfect. If I didn’t have to worry about my family or their hatred of the man holding me, we could live like this forever.
We make it to the diner, and as William opens the door, the scent of cooking meat—probably hamburger—almost knocks me over. My medication hasn’t quite kicked in yet, and the wave of nausea that hits me almost feels large enough to drown me.
“Justine…”
“I’ll be okay,” I lie. I’m already barely holding down the vomit I can feel in my throat. “We should…sit.” I’m not even sure why I’m doing this, other than some strange need to feel normal, even if it’s only for a moment.
He seems to sense it, too, giving me a weak nod as he leads me to a booth in the back of the restaurant, as far from the grill as possible. “We can leave whenever you want.”
“I’ll be okay,” I repeat, probably more to try to convince myself than to convince him.
The waitress comes over to take our order. William looks at me, then up at her, then back at me. “I think we’ll both have a bowl of your finest oatmeal.”
The woman looks between us, frowning. “Oatmeal? You sure?”
William gives her something of a dismissive nod, and the woman shrugs, writing something on the small pad of paper she holds in her hand.
“This is nice.” He grins at me. “We should do this more often.”
“Mm.” I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’m going to throw up all over the table.
“Dating, I mean. When you’re feeling better, I can take you somewhere a little…nicer, perhaps. There’s a lovely restaurant in New York City that Leopold was recommending to me a few months ago.”
I can only nod. William seems to understand what’s going on and stops trying to engage me in conversation for a few minutes, instead pulling my hand into his and holding it on the table between us.
After a few minutes, William drops my hand and stands. “I’m going to get our food to go.” His brow furrows. “You look… I can tell you aren’t feeling well.”
I suppose I’m not such a good actress. “I’m sorry. The pill should have started working by now.”
He shrugs. “We can eat together in your dormitory. And Justine… If I’d known you were feeling this bad, we could have stayed there.”
I nod, unsure what I can say to him.
“You don’t have to pretend to be well for my benefit.” He gives me a small smile before walking toward the front of the restaurant.
A few minutes later, William returns to the table with a bag in his hand. He extends his other hand to me, helping me out of my seat, and we leave.
The cold air outside makes me feel instantly better, and I turn to him. “I think…I think it’s just the enclosed space with the food smells that makes me sick. I’m feeling much better now.”
“Good.” He grins, saying nothing else as we walk back to my dormitory.
We’re back inside within a few minutes, and he sets the bag on the counter. He turns back to me, smiling. “You are looking much better now. Next time you’re feeling ill, we can try going outside
to see if it helps.”
Next time. It’s still hard to believe that he might be here if there is a next time.
He cocks his head, his smile changing from one of his grins to something a little more seductive. “Are you hungry?”
“Not particularly.” I can see by the way he’s looking at me that he’s hungry for something else. “William, we should talk. I should tell you—”
“We have the rest of our lives to talk.” He takes a step toward me. “I assume your microwave oven will reheat this oatmeal?”
“I…suppose.” I take a step back. “I… There are things we should discuss.”
“There’s nothing left to discuss. I’m here, and I’m not leaving. You’re going to have to get used to that. I’m going to be here with you forever.”
Something about the way he says it sends a pulse of fear through me. Forever seems like an awfully long time. And he still doesn’t know the awful truth of my past.
But then he takes another step toward me, and I’m sure forever only means the same thing to him as it meant to James. It means fucking him tonight. It doesn’t mean anything else.
“I’ve missed you. More than I can say. But I can show you—”
I shake my head to interrupt. “You should go. I…I don’t want to sleep with you. I can’t give you what you want. Not tonight.”
He takes another step toward me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The only thing I want is you, Justine. Not to…fuck you. Just to hold you in my arms again. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
My brow furrows. I’m a little shocked that he’s being so narcissistic about this. “William. I do believe that you are not the only one—”
“I…I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t know what it is about you, but my words don’t come out the way I mean them. I wish I could just sit you down and say everything I need to say without screwing it up in the process.”
“Maybe you should try writing it, then. I know my words come out a lot closer to the way I mean them when I write them down.”