The Torn Prince

by Zee Monodee

  Rio herself had always been told she wouldn’t amount to much since she wasn’t fair. Combined with everything she had going on in her life right now, something had to give. Especially with Zediah’s return and the cryptic statement he’d left last evening. This couldn’t keep on. The peacemaker in her had had it up to here now with smoothing rough edges.

  She waited until they were all inside the family living room before she started.

  “Ma, something you should know.”

  “Yes, beti. What is it?”

  She took a deep breath. “Nour’s father has returned to London.”

  “Oh.” A hand went to the dupatta-covered chest, probably in anticipation of a heart attack or needing to fake one.

  Rio gave a short laugh. “I’m not going to beat around the bush. You already know this, even if you choose to not acknowledge it. His father is a Black man. From Africa.”

  “Hai rabba!” A swoon looked like it would come on imminently. “How could you, Riona? How … with a Zulu?”

  To her mother, all Black people were Zulus. True enough, Zulus were the biggest and most well-known ethnic group of southern Africa, the only thing Hema Mittal had chosen to remember. But that meant little when one knew the diversity making up the entire continent.

  “He’s not a Zulu, Mum. He’s from a country called Bagumi.”

  “It’s the same thing. They’re all Zulus.”

  If her mother had spat those words out, she wouldn’t have been surprised. She’d always known her parent would have no respect for Switz and even less for Nour when the bigot would have to acknowledge the kid had Black blood in him. Her father, brothers, and their wives wouldn’t tarnish her or her son with any brush except love. But her mother …

  “You can’t let this man be a part of your life, Riona.”

  “He’s Nour’s father.”

  Rio turned to see her dad standing in the doorway to his study, obviously having heard the entire discussion. She’d known she’d have his support, and a part of her heart that had been slowly shrivelling and dying under her mother’s scornful words came back to life and filled with blood again.

  “Can you imagine what people will say? We are in England. She could have found any White man to fall for, and yet she chose a Zulu?”

  Her father’s face grew stern. “To Hell with what people will say, Hema.”

  “Maybe it’s easy for you. You’re hardly ever out of that damn study of yours, always hiding from the world.” Red was creeping up the face that looked like it was on the brink of exploding. “No daughter of mine is going to be with a Zulu!”

  Rio was opening her mouth to reply to her, but her father beat her to the punch.

  “Then she doesn’t need to be your daughter. Not when she has all of us.”

  A sob settled hard in her throat, and try as she wanted, she couldn’t swallow it down. Tears pricked her eyes to then fall unabashedly down her cheeks.

  Her dad turned to her. “Where was he all this time?”

  She sniffled and wiped her nose with the flat of her hand. “He didn’t know about Nour.”

  “But he’s ready to do the right thing now?”

  “This is not happening—”

  “This is none of your business, Hema,” he snapped. “Riona. Is he?”

  She nodded wordlessly. Zediah had said it last night, right?

  Her father placed his hands on her shoulders, which made her look up into his face.

  “And you feel you can give him a chance?”

  Pausing for a moment, she probed her heart and her head for an answer. Yet, it also didn’t take her more than a millisecond to know it. “Yes.”

  “Then I trust you know what you’re doing,” he said softly.

  As tears flooded her vision, she threw herself into his arms. A loud huff resounded in the room, but she didn’t bother to look at her mother, faffing away all indignant and with her pride scorned. Nothing mattered but the gentle yet steadfast acceptance of her father.

  “I should get going,” she mumbled as she tore herself away and wiped her eyes.

  But as she stared at her dad standing there, feeling the trust and love he had for her irrespective of what she did or not, she knew something else would have to give. Let the sky come crashing down on her head afterwards—see if she cared anymore.

  With resolute steps, Rio marched to the kitchen to find her mother. She stopped on the threshold as her gaze landed on the older woman who had so much spite in her dark eyes. A shiver almost coursed through her, from the venom, or from the fear of going up against her. Yet, she couldn’t keep things on this uneven keel any longer.

  “Ma, I am not marrying Humphrey or any other White man. Maybe I will end up with Nour’s father, who is Black. I don’t know.” She steeled her spine as the face across soured and the thin lips pursed as if in disgust. “But I’m done pandering to your views how I am worth nothing if I’m not married, especially if it isn’t to a White man. I’m my own person, whether you like it or not.”

  A huff came from her parent. “How can you—”

  She’d had enough of those theatrics.

  “I can, and I will, Ma. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but at the same time, sorry, not sorry. It’s my life, and you’ve tried to control it for long enough.” She narrowed her eyes and took another deep breath. “And one more thing. My son’s name is Nour. Not Roshan. Nour. If you can’t wrap your head around it, let me know when you can, and only then will you get to see him again. Plus, he’s half-Black, African, Ma. Nothing’s gonna change that. If you can’t accept it, it’s your loss. Not my son’s. Not mine.”

  With this, she pivoted on her heel and stalked away from the kitchen, not bothering to see what response her mother would give. Rio had said her piece, and she was done with the passive-aggressive abuse.

  Minnie and Tanya hugged her again, her father kissing her cheeks as she said goodbye. None of them seemed bothered by what she’d just let out or by the drama that would surely erupt from the kitchen as she left. Good on them.

  Pausing on the stairs to think about what she’d said, it rankled a little how she’d come to such life-changing decisions in the heat of the moment as if she hadn’t thought them through enough. Still, a part of her knew she was doing the right thing for all of them.

  However, the time had come to put her life to rights. To stop hunkering in the shadows while living in fear. She sailed down the stairs and out of the packed restaurant to her car outside with lightened steps. Once in, she paused with her hands on the steering wheel.

  She needed to find Zediah and have a talk with him. While she wanted to give him a chance, there were still so many shadows over their relationship. Only when they’d shone the light on all those dark corners would she be able to step forward with him.

  She also wasn’t going ahead with the marriage to Humphrey. Even if she ended up on her own afterwards, if Zediah didn’t want to give the two of them a chance, she was now okay with it. Like she’d told her mother, she was her own person, with or without a man. Humphrey deserved due consideration, though. The sooner she handled this, the better.

  A short text later, she started the car and eased into traffic, all while thinking about this dilemma. He would understand, wouldn’t he? Nour was the most important in the deal.

  Humphrey wouldn’t begrudge her thinking of her son. Plus, he deserved so much more. He was such a lovely person and should know what love felt like, to have someone who all but worshipped him. Like—

  Rio quickly eased her foot on the brake, preventing the car from piling into the one ahead in the traffic jam she hadn’t seen coming.

  Realization filled her. All the pieces of a puzzle fell into place.

  How had she not seen all this? Had she chosen not to see it? Now more than ever, she needed to let Humphrey go.

  His text reply came in, confirming the meet.

  Rio quickly shot another message out and then made her way to Hampstead Heath, nabbing a spot a few sh
ops down from Delia’s Café where she had asked him to meet her.

  Three o’clock on the dot. She was right on time. Now to hope her plan would work.

  She got out of the car, approached the darkened glass making up the front of the café, and pulled the door open. A quick glance around, and she spotted him at a table in the corner. She waved at him and motioned to the counter, going there to order two peppermint lattes. She strongly disliked the stuff, but she had a purpose in getting this.

  “Hi,” she greeted as she reached the table and dropped her handbag on one of the chairs.

  Humphrey, always the gentleman, had stood upon her arrival, and she gave him a tight smile thanking the Universe for the fact that he wasn’t touchy-huggy. She would feel even more like rubbish for ditching him if he had tried to kiss her. It had always been politeness between them, and this would help smooth things out. She hoped, anyway.

  The barista called out her order, and she went to get the clear mugs, placing them on the table. Next, she sat down and took a deep breath. A quick glance outside showed her no one stood on the pavement. She should buckle up and do this.

  She cleared her throat and looked up into his face.

  “You know Zediah is Nour’s father, right?”

  He nodded.

  “I … I can’t do this, Humphrey.” Motion outside caught her attention, and she glanced up for a brief second then returned her focus to him. “I know we’d said we were in this together, but it was before he swanned back into my life.” A groan escaped her. “God, I sound like a total bitch, don’t I?”

  “You love him?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between him and me, but I have to give us a chance.”

  “And you don’t want me to wait for you.”

  “Goodness, no! I would never!” The sight of the soft smile on his face let her know he was teasing, though, and she chuckled then reached for his hand. “You’re a good man, Humphrey, and you shouldn’t have to settle for just a companion. You deserve to know what love is, to fall in love, to be loved. In fact …”

  She let go of his hand and stood, indicating with a raised palm that he should wait there. Next, she dashed outside, finding Martha standing on the pavement. With the darkened glass, there was no way the woman would’ve seen them inside.

  “Come with me.”

  Rio grabbed her hand and led her inside the café, making a beeline for the table Humphrey occupied. She’d told her PA to come here on her afternoon off, or she would be fired. Hard of her, but it all stemmed from good intentions.

  Martha’s footsteps stalled when she noticed who sat there. Still, Rio would have none of it and kept on tugging until they reached the table, and she pushed the blonde who seemed to have gone frozen into the chair she had just vacated.

  “Humphrey, you know Martha, right?” she asked as she grabbed her bag from the other chair. “Well, guess what? Martha has been absolutely head-over-heels in love with you all this time, and she has been crying her little heart out for the past week ever since she found out we were together.”

  She turned to the woman. “We aren’t together anymore, just so you know.” Looking at them, she smiled. “You both deserve to know love, and Humphrey, I am sure there isn’t a person on Earth who will adore you more than Martha here. Still, treat her right, or you’ll answer to me. Okay, I’ll let you two get on with it now.”

  They both appeared stunned, and she bit back a smile as she made her way out of the café. On the pavement, she stopped.

  The realization had come to her in the car—Martha’s misery. The way the woman always lit up when Humphrey visited. How she got his tea perfectly right every time, the many peeks at the door whenever he was supposed to come by as if hoping to catch the slightest glance of him and it would make her world right.

  If that wasn’t love, then Rio didn’t know what was.

  She’d given them a minute or so to get over their shock. Pushing the door open just enough so she could glimpse inside, she smiled at the sight greeting her. Martha still looked pink, though more flushed than red now. Humphrey was spooning the crushed peppermint candy and whipped cream on top of his latte onto her mug. It was a favourite drink for both of them, and the fact he was sharing something he loved? Yes, they’d be okay together.

  With a light step and an even lighter heart, she went to her car and got in, making her way back home. And with every mile bringing her closer to Clabon Mews, a crushing weight settled inside her.

  Rio still needed to have a talk with Zediah. Could there be a future for them? Though she’d determined she could stay single, she didn’t know what she’d do if Zediah told her no.

  But after what he’d said last night, he wouldn’t, right?

  She made it to her place just in time to have a shower and change and then have Oksana hand over the baby before going out for her free evening.

  Environmental protection start-up bloke named Glen had asked Oksana out for a second date to a music festival in Bath. The nanny had asked for special leave and wouldn’t be back until late Monday now. The perfect time to have a heart to heart with Switz Bagumi.

  Nour was refusing to take a nap, and after the hectic afternoon she’d had, she did not have it in her to aim for an instructive playtime moment with her son. Instead, Peppa Pig would have to do.

  With the baby’s propensity to just roll over or try to crawl somewhere now, it would be safest to put him on the plush rug on the floor rather than have him on the bed where a second’s inattention could result in a tumble and possibly a concussion or worse.

  The high-pitched voices from the television settled around her. Nour tried to coo along to the sounds, imitating Peppa’s snort a tad too well.

  Rio took a deep breath and sent out another text.

  RIO: Dinner tonight?

  That should do. She hesitated to add the ominous ‘we need to talk’ at the end.

  His reply came almost instantly.

  SWITZ: Pizza? My treat

  RIO: No anchovies

  SWITZ: Pepperoni?

  RIO: Perfect

  She smiled as she sat there in the room, the sounds from the cartoon blanketing her. After a few episodes when Nour’s attention seemed to be waning, she picked the baby up. She made her way downstairs to reheat a tub of puree and feed him for the evening. There might be a need for a bottle if he woke up in the middle of the night, but given how he hadn’t napped, she kept her fingers crossed he’d spend the night sleeping.

  For once, Nour complied, puree not ending up everywhere, and she didn’t have a slick of it on her. A miracle. Giving him his bath was thus a breeze, and she’d tugged on his fleece onesie when the doorbell rang. A glimpse at the intercom screen in the corridor showed her Zediah standing on her doorstep with a big flat box in his hand.

  She went down the stairs and deposited the baby in his comfy playpen in the reception room. Having just come from the bathtub, he might catch a cold if she had him in her arms when she opened the front door.

  Zediah greeted her with a wide smile as she let him in. He’d worn the coat over a thick jumper and jeans today. A far cry from the suits, and at the same time, it struck her how different he appeared as he ditched the outer garment in the hallway. More poised in his own skin, if that made sense. As if he had come into himself.

  Nour squealed and started to mumble away happily in his baby language when he saw his father. Zediah wasted no time reaching for him and cuddling him in his arms.

  The sight of him standing there with his child tore her heart in two, and she gulped back the sob clogging her throat. This was where he belonged. Ideally, with her in the picture, his other arm around her. Could she make this happen?

  The baby talk turned to soft whining.

  “He’s getting sleepy,” she told Zediah. “Mind putting him to bed in the nursery? Oksana’s got the night and tomorrow off.”

  “Sure,” he said, beaming a smile her way. “Say goodnight to M
ummy, Nour.”

  She went to them and pressed her cheek to Nour’s. The baby hardly left his father’s hold to come to her. But she didn’t mind. After a soft kiss to his forehead, she sent them up then busied herself with getting the pizza box to the main suite a couple of floors above.

  From the two receivers of the baby monitor—she also brought Oksana’s up when the nanny was away—she could hear Zediah softly singing the baby to sleep. She shook her head and chose to laugh when she recognized the tune from SpongeBob. Well, at least he wasn’t singing the Teletubbies’ intro. She shivered with dread at the thought.

  When silence came from the monitor, she ambled to the landing and called Zediah up. He followed her with slow steps, and she turned to find him standing in the doorway as if hesitant to come in.

  True enough, she had brought him to her bedroom. As overwrought as she felt, trying to be lady-like in her kitchen or front reception room would’ve required too much from her. The little she had left, she preferred to save for the much-needed conversation she needed to have with her baby’s father.

  Sitting down on the rug, she patted the space next to her, then nodded pointedly at the pizza box on a breakfast tray. She’d learned the hard way how difficult it was to remove a grease stain from a shag-pile rug. Well, actually from the berating her cleaning lady had subjected her to.

  “There’s soda in the mini-bar.” She pointed to the small fridge by the console holding the 90” TV. They needed a clear head for tonight.

  He settled down beside her and reached for the pizza box. She handed him a napkin, and they started eating. A moan almost tore out of her at her first bite. The trattoria on the corner did know how to do pizza.

  Zediah observed her, and then it seemed he couldn’t keep controlling himself and burst out laughing.

  She threw a cushion at him. “What’s so funny?”

  “You,” he replied. “So the way to your heart is pepperoni pizza?”

  Try as she wanted, she couldn’t resist smiling back. What could she say? She did have simple tastes where dates were concerned. And speaking of dates, and why she’d asked him here …