by Imani King
We dress then head out. She’s vibrant. Even having just woken up, she’s full of energy. There are shops a short distance from the apartment I got for us, so we walk. I watch her eyes as she takes in the surroundings.
“This is beautiful,” she says.
“It is,” I agree but I’m looking at her.
She smiles, and I think she caught what I really meant. The sidewalk grows crowded as we get into the business district. We hold hands as we walk. The Corner Rooster is just ahead. I’ve heard they have a very good breakfast though I haven’t tried it. There’s a line waiting to get in which is usually a good sign that a place has food people are willing to wait for.
“What will you do after the year?” she asks.
I shrug, noncommittal.
“Go home, I guess,” I say, deflecting her question. Hopefully staying here. Or she could move to Sorenia. Wherever it is, I’ll be with Abby. I’m sure of it. “Heard this place was good, have you eaten here before?”
Two girls in line ahead of us are staring at me. One of them points, then leans in and whispers to her friend. The friend turns and looks. She shakes her head at first but then she holds up her phone. The two of them look at the phone then at me. This isn’t good.
“I haven’t eaten here before,” she says, oblivious.
I grab her hand and pull her out of line. The two girls step out of line on the opposite side.
“Let’s try a different place,” I say, taking off. “The line here is too long. I uh, don’t like crowds.”
Abby struggles to keep up with me as I take off. Trying to seem casual I glance over my shoulder. The girls that I suspect recognized me are on the wrong side of the line ,which slows them down. We’re across the street and heading down the block by the time they work their way through.
Please forget it, please don’t follow us.
They snap a couple of shots with their phone then return to standing in line. Good. I slow down then.
“Are we running from something?” Abby asks.
“What? No,” I say. “Just didn’t want to wait too long for breakfast, you know?”
“Okay,” she says, looking suspicious, but she lets it go.
“Abby?” someone says.
I look through the crowd for the one who spoke. When I see who it is, I’m pissed. Instant and immediate anger.
“Roger?” she says in surprise.
“Why are you with this asshole?” Roger asks pointing at me.
He looks disheveled. His shirt is un-tucked, stained and he has several day’s growth of beard. When he turns to look at me, his eyes are bleary, and I’d guess he hasn’t slept recently. Then his breath hits me, and I almost fall over. He’s drunk, really drunk. Hungover from last night but still drunk kind of drunk.
“Roger, go home,” she says, stepping closer to me.
“I’m not leaving without you Abby,” he says. “Look, I’m sorry! I screwed up, and I know it. I want to make it right with you.”
“It’s over, Roger,” she says, her face flushing red. “It was over when you sent me that text. And I never should have given you the time of day when you showed up here.”
People are looking at us now.
“Hey, Roger,” I say, stepping in front of Abby. “It’s obvious you’ve been drinking. Why don’t you go someplace and sleep it off? I’ll get a cab for you.”
He looks at me narrowing his eyes as he weaves back and forth in place. He raises a hand and points a finger at me. “This is your fault.”
“Fine,” I say, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you a cab.”
“No, you… I know what you are. I know the truth about you!”
That stops me in my tracks. I stare into his drunken eyes.
“Roger, you need to go, right now,” I say.
“I’ll go when I damn well want to!” he yells.
People are pulling out their phones and holding them up. This entire event is going to be on the internet before it’s over.
“Roger, enough,” I say, then duck as he swings at me.
“Roger!” Abby screams.
Roger spins around with the force of his swing then stumbles and starts to fall. I catch him and steady him back on his feet. He tries to swing at me again, but this time, I catch his arm and turn him around. Just as he tries to move away, I capture his other arm. I hold him in a headlock while he struggles.
“Roger, you need to let this go,” I whisper in his ear. “You had your shot. It’s over.”
“Not with you, you asshole!” he shouts.
He twists so hard in my arms I’m afraid I’ll hurt him if I don’t let him go, so I do. He stumbles then trips over a crack in the sidewalk and falls to his hands and knees.
“Let’s go,” Abby says, grabbing my shoulder. “Roger, go home!”
I back up with her, keeping an eye on Roger to make sure he doesn’t do anything else stupid. He climbs to his feet, but the fight seems to have gone out of him. Abby and I move back then turn and head away.
“I know who you are!” Roger yells behind us. “Have you told her? Have you told her you’re just using her? You can’t marry her. You’re royalty! You’re a goddamn prince! I read all about it. How you won’t settle down, how you use women. How is Sorenia this time of year, you fucking fraud? I know you’re just using her. Abby, when he throws you aside, I’ll be here. I still love you!”
Abby stops, turning to stare at me.
She turns again and storms off without another word. Rushing to catch up, I try taking her hand in mine, but she jerks away. She doesn’t stop until we’re standing outside our apartment.
“Royalty?” she asks. “I should have asked you—I should have known. What the hell is this?”
“Let’s just go inside,” I say, taking her hand back in mine.
She jerks her hand out of mine shaking her head.
“What did he mean?” she asks.
“Abby, please, come inside with me, and I’ll explain it all, I swear. Let’s not do this here in public, please.”
She shakes her head. Tears appear in her eyes. “He’s not lying? He’s not saying this shit to try to hurt me?”
This is all going wrong. Damn it this isn’t the way for her to find out! My stomach ties itself into a tight knot. Ice water floods my veins. I’m not ready to tell her the truth. She’s not ready. Scrambling, I try to come up with a lie, anything that will defuse the situation but I’ve got nothing. But I’m a man now—I have to be if I’m with Abby. She’s a real woman, and she deserves the truth.
“No,” I say.
“The money, the apartment, the expensive clothes, all of it, because you’re what, a king?”
“A prince, like he said,” I say. “It’s not a big deal—”
“The family business? I thought you might have noble blood, but Jesus—”
“Yes. I am a prince. That is indeed the family business.”
“You lied to me.”
“No! It doesn’t change anything,” I say.
“Yes it does!” she yells. “You’re a prince. What the hell? How does that not change things? Can you even legally marry me?”
“Yes, sure, I think so, I don’t know… it doesn’t matter. I did. So I think I can—”
“Why? Why did you lie?” she asks, tears streaming down her face.
Each tear feels like it’s slicing into my soul. It hurts me deep inside seeing her like this, knowing that I caused it.
“I didn’t mean to,” I say. “Well, at firs,t sure but then things were going well. And then there was the marriage,” I say, trying to explain.
“At first you did?” she pounces on that like a cat on a ball of string.
“Look, I don’t just tell girls who I am. I don’t like leaning on it for, you know, to get things.”
“Oh so you don’t use your status of royalty to get laid. Well isn’t that sweet?” Her words come out in a sarcastic snarl. I can’t say I blame her.
“It’s not like tha
t,” I try to counter. Guilt sweeps over me. I’m not half the man I thought I was.
“Oh really? Tell me, what is it like? To lie to women like that? Goddammit, I knew better than to trust you. I knew something was off.”
“Abby, please, let me explain. I just wanted you to like me for me, not for my money or my status or for anything like that.”
“And I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” she snaps.
“It’s only one aspect of my life, okay? I don’t tell women because I don’t need to.”
“I’m not just any woman. I thought we were more than that. I am your wife.” She pauses and puts her hand to her face in exasperation. “I was stupid. So stupid. I can’t believe I just said we were more than that—we aren’t, are we?”
“We are,” I say, all but begging. “We’re so much more than that.”
How could this go so wrong? She shakes her head, clearly furious with me.
“Forget it,” she says her voice choking.
“Abby, no, you can’t—”
“I can do what I want,” she says, turning. “And what I want is to find a way to divorce you and be through with all of this. I was willfully ignorant. Not asking you anything, not pushing on the divorce.” There’s a long pause, and she’s still turned away from me. Her voice is heartbreakingly quiet when she speaks. “I thought I was in love with you.”
She storms down the road, and I stand frozen.
Chase her, run after her, don’t let her get away. I scream in my head at myself, but my body stays still like a statue.
“We have to at least talk about this! The divorce! We need to figure it out together!” I yell in a moment of not so brilliant insight.
She doesn’t even look over her shoulder as she storms the corner and disappears from sight. An empty blackness fills me inside as the one thing in life I finally found that’s worth living for walks out. I’m alone, and there really is no one to blame but myself.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“I can’t believe he lied to me,” I say, tears streaming down my face.
Eva refills my wine glass then leans back on the couch. She doesn’t say anything, but what is there to say? I knew something had to give. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him. And furthermore, I’ve known for a long time I needed to know more about him. I thought it would be another woman or that his parents were, I don’t know, drug lords or something.
It had to be something, but royalty? That’s one I would never have guessed. He shouldn’t even be married to me, and yet he is.. I’m an American girl and definitely not royal blood. Yet we are. And the worst part? I like him, a lot.
Maybe something even more.
“Maybe it’s not so bad,” Eva says. She looks at me sympathetically.
I take a long gulp of wine. “How do you figure?”
“He’s not cheating on you.” She shrugs and gives me a faint smile.
“True,” I snort.
“So he’s royalty, so what? What does it really change?” She looks away when she says this, and it’s clear to me she’s thinking about Aidan.
“Everything!” I shout, sloshing wine onto our couch. “Ah, dammit.”
I get a towel and dab at the spot, then plop back down.
“Like what?” Eva asks.
“We can’t be married for one,” I say. “Or we shouldn’t be married. His parents wouldn’t want us to be married. I know that one for sure. I always vowed that I wouldn’t marry a white man whose parents disapproved of me.”
Eva shrugs again and gives me a wry smile. “Well, they probably won’t approve of you because you’re American. At least that’s something. And fuck what they think anyway. Kian obviously doesn’t care. Not like his brother does.”
“Yeah but the marriage isn’t… legal or something.”
“Seems it was pretty binding,” she says, picking up the marriage certificate that I left sitting on our coffee table when I moved in with Kian. “This is legit. And now it’s on record in Europe. It might negate his claim to the throne or something, but it’s certainly legal for you to be married.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Drop everything and move to Sorenia? I barely even know where it is! I couldn’t point to it on a globe.”
“An adventure,” she observes. “I hear it’s pretty this time of year.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as I look at her. She shrugs but something is off. I can feel it. “What do you know of Sorenia?”
“I hear things,” she says. “Why don’t you just give him a chance?”
“Don’t change the subject,” I say. “How do you know anything more than I do about Sorenia?”
“Television?” she asks. She looks down and away, picking at her jeans.
“You knew,” I accuse. I watch her and see the expression change on her face. She absolutely knew.
“What are you talking about? Knew what?”
“You knew! About them! About the royal bloodline! And all that shit!” I’m in shock. She knew and didn’t tell me. The world is upside down and wrong.
“Abby—”
“No, tell me, when did you find out? How did you find out?” I cut her off.
She shakes her head but doesn’t meet my eyes. There’s a tick in her left eye that’s going crazy. Eva is a terrible poker player. She has too many tells, and I know them all. I stare her down waiting.
“Okay,” she says at last. “Aidan.”
“When?” I pounce. She shrugs and avoids my eyes. “When, Eva?”
“The first night,” she answers. “He told me then, but he made me swear not to tell you or anyone else. He just wanted me to know he couldn’t be serious—”
“You’re kidding me!” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe it.”
Confusion wins out of all my emotions. How did she know for this long and not tell me? It’s unexpected, surprising, and more, it’s hurtful.
“I’m sorry, Aidan swore me to secrecy. And when Kian got here, he promised me he was going to tell you.” She pauses again and sighs deeply. “It was supposed to be a fun holiday, and I was going to tell you after it was over but then you ran off and got married, and he was here. And oh hell, the time just never seemed right. Can you forgive me? Please?”
Disbelief. I feel like I’m walking through one of those dreams where you know you’re dreaming, but you can’t wake up. Except it’s not a dream. If it were, this would have to be a nightmare of epic proportions. I’m married to a prince, but I can’t tell anyone because he’s not supposed to be married to me. How did my life get so messed up?
“Fine,” I say. “I forgive you.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
I think about it a minute longer, but I can’t stay mad at her. She’s my best friend, and I know she was only trying to do what she thought was best. We never thought these guys would pop back up in our lives. And yet, Kian is here. And I bet anything Aidan has kept on texting Eva. The way those two looked at each other…
“Yes,” I say, relaxing.
“Good,” she says. “Now, about Kian.”
“Ugh,” I groan.
“I know but look, I didn’t think he was right for you at first either. There’s a whole lot of growing up for that man to do, and I’ve told him as much.” She bites her lip like it’s painful for her to say. “But he does care about you. Maybe even more.”
“Yes. I’m not sure about that last part. He’s definitely here. I give him that.”
“And probably avoiding his parents and the entire Sorenian guard,” she says. “He’s a bad boy. But when it comes to you, it looks like he’s changing. Don’t tell him I said that. I’m on your side, Abby. But he hasn’t run off yet. He hasn’t done anything stupid. And I expected him to.”
It hurts. A sharp stabbing pain that drives straight into my core. We sit in silence, avoiding looking at each other. I’m angry. Angry at Kian and angry at myself. I knew better, which is what makes it the worst. I knew there was someth
ing wrong. No one has the money he has without there being a catch.
“Why didn’t I see it?” I muse out loud.
“Because you didn’t want to,” Eva speaks softly, but her words are true.
I shake my head trying to fight against the tears that are threatening to fall.
“I’m an idiot,” I say.
“No,” she offers. “Blind? Sure. Naive? Absolutely. An idiot, though, no honey, you’re not.”
“And I suppose naive is better than being an idiot?”
“Sure it is,” she offers helpful as always. “Who wants to be blind and dumb?”
I laugh, and she does too. Sighing, I stand up and stretch, then go to the kitchen and rummage through the fridge for something to eat.
“We need to grocery shop,” I comment looking at our fridge.
“There’s ice cream,” Eva replies.
“Oh!”
“Perfect thing for a broken heart, right? Double fudge too,” she smiles.
I find the ice cream, grab two spoons, then and sit down close to her.
“What am I going to do?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.
“What do you want to do?”
Cold double fudge ice cream freezes my mouth as I take a spoonful. As it melts on my tongue, I think about that.“I don’t know.”
“Well, how do you feel about Kian?” she says.
“The worst part of all this is, I like him.”
“Uh-huh,” she says. “Have you really thought about this?”
“What do you mean?”
“What I was saying earlier. I think Kian has a serious case of foot-in-mouth disease. He started down a path and went too far to get out of it easily. He felt trapped, but more, I think he wanted you to like him for him.”
“Or he just wanted to see how long he could play out some sick game.”
“Or that, I suppose,” she shrugs. “How much do you like him?”
I think about it before answering her. I might have loved him if we’d met under different circumstances. I might have fallen for him… All the times he’s surprised me with little gestures, those are the things that stand out the most. He pays attention to me. Listens to what I say even when it’s just a casual remark. When he looks at me, the look in his eyes, the way they smolder and burn. It makes me feel beautiful. The sex is, well, mind-blowing as well. Is it more than liking? Do I…
