Ollie drops his hold on me. “You never did believe. Did you?” he asks, his voice breaking.
I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know a damn thing anymore. Maybe I never did. All I know is I’m not strong enough to do this. I need to run.
The door swings open, and Liam appears. “Everything all right in here?” he asks. His eyes dart from Ollie to me, and I’m not sure whom he’s asking.
“I need you to get me out of here, Liam. Do you think you can do that?” I ask. My voice is empty, a direct representation of how I feel.
“Ryans, please,” Ollie pleads again.
“Can you?” I ask Liam a second time. He nods gravely. I walk past Ollie without giving him a second glance. That doesn’t mean he’ll let me go without putting me in my place one last time. “Just so you know,” he calls out, “it’s not that you don’t believe in me. Those moments we shared together, I felt it. You believe in me. It’s that you don’t believe in yourself.”
I blink away the tears that threaten to spill down my cheeks, and I leave.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
22 Years, 10 Months, and 11 Days (Barely)
I throw a pillow over my head in an attempt to block out the sound of someone knocking on my hotel door in the middle of the night. Not that I’ve been able to sleep, but I’m not in the mood to discuss with Liam whether I was sure I wanted to run. I had instructed him to find a room for me in some dodgy corner of London, where I could sleep and hide out until my flight back to the States the next day. Liam insisted that he will stay with me until he takes me to the airport, which means he is probably up for another round of “We Should Talk About This.”
I have been too scared to turn on the television. It makes me sick to think of how I ruined Sophie and Freddie’s day. And that is nothing compared to how terrible I feel when I think about the things I said to Ollie. I am a disaster. Plain and simple.
Liam knocks again.
“Go away,” I groan.
“Alexandra, it’s your father.”
I bolt up from the bed. My father is here? How the hell did he know where I was?
Liam.
Of course.
“I can have Liam break down the door if I need to, but I’d much rather you let me in.”
“I’d much rather you let him in as well, Aly. I don’t fancy risking personal injury,” Liam calls out.
With a defeated sigh, I trudge over to the door and open it. I scowl at Liam, who shrugs. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the worst security? You were supposed to keep me hidden. Safe.”
Liam’s features shift from amused to concerned. “I’m taking care of you the best way I can, lass. Now have a good talk with your father, so we can all get some sleep and go to the wedding tomorrow.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going. If that’s why you’re here, Father, you’re wasting your time.”
“Liam, would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?” my father asks. He nods and my father steps into the room. I shuffle over to the bed and plop down on it. I hang my head, waiting to drown in my father’s disappointment.
“I confess I’m not entirely sure where to start,” my father says as he takes a seat next to me.
“I know the feeling,” I mumble. How can I explain to my father all the mistakes I’ve made? All the mistakes I continue to make?
My father sighs. “I’m afraid I haven’t done right by you, Alexandra. I never should have moved us into the palace,” he says, his voice breaking.
“Dad, this isn’t your fault,” I say. I reach out and touch his arm. “Living in the palace was a dream. I had a family. I was loved. I can’t blame my issues on that.”
He blinks away tears. “Can you not? I certainly blame myself.”
“All those things the press reported, I did them. Not you,” I argue. “Please don’t blame yourself. I can bear almost all of it, but I won’t survive that.”
My father shakes his head. “No, Alexandra. You must let me take on some of the responsibility. When your mother died, I didn’t know how to raise you on my own. I’m not adept at talking about my feelings. She was always so good at that. I may have provided you a home, but I wasn’t there the way you needed me to be.”
“Dad—”
“You should have been able to tell me you struggled with school, or that you were in love with Oliver, or about the professor, but you couldn’t. I’ve never made you feel safe enough to admit your mistakes.”
I wipe at the tears that fall down my cheek. “It’s not your fault that you have such a disaster for a daughter.”
“That’s just it! I have the most wonderful daughter in the world. How could I not remind her of that every day? I thrust you into a world where you were judged constantly by the press, and I never helped you find the courage to survive it,” he admits, placing his head into his hands.
“You gave me a fairy-tale life,” I say softly. I lean my head against my father’s shoulder.
“There’s no such thing as fairy tales, Alexandra. I should have been there for you. Made you see that I didn’t need perfection from you. I just needed you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I reply. Even to my ears the words sound empty.
He lifts his head and takes my hands in his. “You will be,” he assures me. “Starting with getting to that wedding and telling that scoundrel that you love him.”
My eyes go wide. He can’t be serious. “There’s no way I can go to the wedding. It’ll be filled with press.”
“They can go straight to hell. Bloody fools, the lot of them. That’s your family getting married tomorrow, and Freddie will never forgive me if I don’t drag you back there. In fact, Ollie insisted I do that very thing,” he explains.
I clear my throat. “Ollie knows you’re here?”
“Of course he does. It was nearly impossible for Aiden and me to convince him to not come running after you himself. If you had refused to come back with him, there was no doubt in any of our minds that he’d stay with you. But we told him, he’d only be doing you more harm than good. Missing his own brother’s wedding would just make things worse. Besides, I used the father card. It trumps the boyfriend card.”
“I said some truly terrible things to him,” I admit.
“He’ll forgive you,” my father says with a smile. “That boy really does love you.”
Ollie would have missed his brother’s wedding to make sure I was all right. He would do anything for me. I don’t deserve him, and I can’t shame him. I run a hand down my hair. “Dad, I can’t thank you enough for coming to talk to me. It… There aren’t words to express what it means. But I just can’t…”
Chapter Thirty
22 Days, 10 Months, and 11 Days (A Little Less Barely)
“When someone asks to be alone, that means alone. Not with England’s most annoying bodyguard standing ten feet behind me,” I grumble, pulling my arms inside my sweatshirt. A cool breeze has settled over the city of London tonight, its chill latching onto me, slowly drawing out what warmth I have left.
“I can’t leave you, lass. I got my orders. But I can move about twenty feet away if that makes you happy,” Liam offers.
“Orders? Orders from whom? I’m the one who asked you to leave with me. Shouldn’t I be giving the orders?” I charge.
“Well, I know a few princes who outrank you so…”
I sigh and plop down on the curb, looking up at the Tower of London. With zero chance of any sleep happening after the talk with my father, I asked Liam to bring me here. It’s always been a favorite of mine. How often the boys and I used to stay up into the wee hours of the morning scaring each other with stories from its ghastly history.
And considering I am currently being judged by the entirety of the country, and probably a few other countries, too, it feels fitting to be sitting under the structure. My head might not be sitting up there on a spike, but I’m pretty sure my soul, along with my dignity, is.
“If Liam standing ten
feet behind you annoys you, I can’t imagine my presence is going to bring you much joy.” I jump at the sound of the voice. I look over my shoulder to find Aiden. He stands there looking down at me with his hands in his pockets, a determined, focused gaze settled on me like I’ve never seen before. Except maybe when he was staring down at one of his drawings.
I narrow my eyes at Liam. “I thought we made a deal you weren’t going to tell anyone where I was.”
“I thought I told you there were a few princes who outranked you,” Liam replies, scratching the back of his neck. It’s the only time I can think of since meeting him that he’s sounded sheepish.
“Ugh,” I groan. “You royals are insufferable!”
“Yet you still love us,” Aiden replies, taking a seat next to me. “Some of us more than others,” he continues, bumping his shoulder into mine.
My cheeks flush at the reference to Ollie. Hesitantly, I look up to read the expression on Aiden’s face. Even though it’s been years. Even though it’s always been Ollie. Even though Aiden let his father talk him out of being with me. There’s still the guilt. Suddenly, I feel so tired, and it’s not just from the lateness of the night. It’s everything. The need to somehow prove to myself and everyone that I am worth more than my mistakes. The heartbreak of knowing I am going to be leaving Ollie in the morning. The anger that I’m not brave enough to face the press.
“Oh, Aly, please don’t cry,” Aiden implores, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I can’t recall when I started to cry, but the gesture makes me sob even harder. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”
“How is everything going to be fine?” I ask. I don’t think it’s possible for anything to be fine ever again.
Aiden removes his arm from around my shoulder, placing his hands on my arms. He turns me so I’m forced to look at him. “Why aren’t you with Oliver right now?”
The question catches me off guard, and it takes me a few moments to respond. “Because…because the press found out. About failing out of school. About the professor.”
“Just two days ago, the press broke a story about Ollie and the French girl,” he replies.
“Yes, but that story wasn’t true! There’s no denying what they’re saying about me.”
“Of course there is! You’re no simpleton, and you’re no home-wrecker. You certainly can deny those things,” he replies, tightening his grip on my arms.
He’s right. I’m not a home-wrecker. Every time I think about the media saying that I am, I want to punch something. It makes my blood boil to think that turd bucket is getting away with lying because the press wants me to be some sort of floosy. But then there’s the other thing… “But I am a simpleton, Aiden.”
“Don’t! Don’t you ever say that about yourself!”
“But I failed—”
“Who the fuck cares?” he exclaims. My mouth drops open. Never in the two decades that I’ve known Aiden have I heard him curse. “You failed. Big deal. That’s part of life.”
“Says the guy who’s never failed at anything,” I counter. I pull myself out of Aiden’s grip and stand up. I need to move. Run. Do something. The more we talk about it all, the more my body zips and zaps with an electricity that needs an outlet.
“Says the guy who’s never lived,” Aiden replies quietly before hanging his head in his hands.
Momentarily, all the energy that seemed like it was going to burn my body straight through disappears. I stand there, rooted in place, trapped by the sadness that rolls off Aiden in waves. “That’s not tru—”
“True?” Aiden asks, jumping to his feet. “Of course, it is, Aly. I’ve never done anything that was brave. I let my father talk me out of pursuing you. I gave up my art. Granted the former was a fool’s errand to start with, but I…I…”
“You loved your art,” I offer, taking his hand into mine.
Aiden clears his throat. “I did. It’s the only thing in this world that made any sense to me, and I gave it up. Because I was scared. I’m done with that, Aly, and it’s about time you’re done being scared, too.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “How does one stop being scared?”
“Well, turns out I’ve given quite a bit of thought to that as of late. First, I think we’ve got to stop beating ourselves up for things we can’t change, and then I think we’ve got to fight like hell over the things we can change.”
“Fight?” I ask. “I’m not brave enough for that.”
“Of course you are. So you’re not a Rhodes Scholar, and you’ve made some less-than-stellar relationship choices. My brother included,” he adds, a smirk crawling across his face. “But you’re the Alexandra Ryans, and if I asked just about anyone I know, they’d say that’s pretty damn impressive.”
“You have to say that. We’ve been friends for nearly twenty years.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t have to say or do anything I don’t want to do anymore. I’m abdicating my spot in the line of succession.”
For the love of Harry Styles.
“Wait. What?” I ask, wondering if I heard him right.
A full-blown grin breaks out on Aiden’s face. “When everything settles down, I’m going to talk to my father and abdicate. Freddie will be next in line for the Throne. I’ve already talked to him. I don’t want it, Aly. I want to study art. I want to travel. I want, for the first time in my whole life, to be free from the constraints that I place on myself because I want to make other people happy.”
“I…I don’t know what to say,” I stammer.
“Do you support me? Will you stand by me when the rest of the country turns against me?”
“Of course I will. Always!” I would move mountains for the Dudley boys. It’s the only certain thing in my whole life.
“Now, don’t you understand, Aly? It’s the same for us. Whatever you do. Whatever you want. We’ll be right there by your side.”
“But—”
“What advice would you give me? When they come for me, and we know they will. They’ll call me a traitor for stepping away from the Crown. They’ll call me ungrateful and selfish. What would you have me do, coach?”
The electricity from before is back. I won’t let them devour Aiden. Or Freddie. And most certainly not Ollie. The world doesn’t get to destroy them because they don’t live up to their expectations. I take a step toward Aiden and lift my chin. “I’d tell you to tell the press and anyone else who stands in your way to sod off.”
And then I get it.
I didn’t have a normal childhood. Parts of that royally sucked. But other parts, man, those other parts were pretty magical. While the press and the rest of the world may have expected me to be perfect, the boys I loved never did. I was going to give up everything that was important to me for people I didn’t even know. That is the very definition of a simpleton. I’m not perfect. I’ll never be the princess in the fairy tale. But that is okay. Because I’m Alexandra Fucking Ryans.
And I am going to win.
Chapter Thirty-One
22 Years, 10 Months, and 11 Days.
It doesn’t take much for me to convince Liam to sneak me into the wedding of the century. While I’m all about fighting for what I want, I’m not about to make Freddie and Sophie’s day about me by walking down the arrivals line in some ratty jeans and an old Liverpool jersey. Aiden offered to take me back to the palace, but I need to do this on my own.
Liam shuffles me through back doors and service hallways past his security buddies, who don’t bother to question him. Apparently, Liam has a lot more clout than I give him credit for.
I pull the ball cap down over my head, hunching my shoulders as we stride through the rest of the staff lined against the back walls, hoping to catch a glimpse of the proceedings. I’m instructed to tell anyone who asks that I’m staff. Liam gives me a badge just in case. I find a space to stand mere seconds before the ceremony beings.
You could hear a pin drop as Sophie and her attendants walk down the aisle, waves of satin
and chiffon crashing behind them. I spot Mrs. Wright, who stands off to the side crying tears of joy into her handkerchief. When my eyes finally land on Ollie, I find him staring directly at me. Not the bride. Not the minister who goes on and on about eternal love.
He’s staring at me.
How he found me among all these people confounds me, but he has.
His eyes light up. “I love you,” he mouths.
Despite all I’ve done, he loves me. All the blame I tossed around that didn’t belong to anyone didn’t ruin it. Even though I ran from him all those years ago, he loves me. Me. Not who I thought I needed to be, but me. Imperfect little me was perfect for him. The force of this knowledge causes me to go a bit weak in the knees. I stumble backward, running into an insanely tall bloke, who then proceeds to knock into an usher, who then proceeds to knock straight into a camera stand, which topples to the ground.
For the love of Oliver Dudley!
The minister stops speaking as every single pair of eyes in the church turns in my direction. A murmur of voices fills the empty space left by the silence. I watch in horror as every camera in the building trains on me.
I could run. That’s my usual reaction.
But that was before I realized that real love is loving someone even though they are flawed, and I am, most assuredly, loved. I manage a smile and a small curtsey, and Ollie’s laugh bellows across the room. Sophie’s eyes brighten when she sees me. She leans over and whispers something to Freddie, who nods. The crowd gasps as she turns on her heels and marches down the aisle toward me, her bridesmaids frantically trying to keep up with her in an attempt to hold her train.
Once she reaches me, she throws her arms around me. “I’m so glad you made it, Aly.”
I wrap my arms around her, hugging her back. “Wouldn’t miss it,” I reply.
Sophie pulls back and narrows her eyes at me. “There’s only one problem.”
I glance behind me at the cameraman who scrambles to get his equipment back up before staring down at my attire. “Only one problem?” I ask with a nervous laugh.
Royal Attraction Page 19
