Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale

by Hayley Faiman

  The dispatch stays on the phone with me until the police arrive. Then, as they’re checking out my apartment and door, I call James.

  “I’ll be there in two seconds,” he grunts, his voice gravelly from sleep.

  I stay completely out of the two officer’s way as they look around, check my door, and look somewhat bored by the whole scene. I have to admit, it’s not very exciting. Nothing really happened, and nothing was taken.

  “It looks like your lock was picked. It’s easy to do with these cheap ones,” one of the officers informs me.

  “What happens now?”

  “Anything taken?” he asks.

  “No, I don’t know if he even came in. I was hiding in the bathroom,” I say.

  “Do you have any idea who it could be?” he asks, pulling out a small notepad.

  Instead of verbally answering, I shake my head.

  “Old boyfriend, anybody like that?”

  Again, I shake my head. I haven’t dated in forever.

  “There were some reporters outside my door when I got home. Do you think it could have been one of them?” I ask.

  “What were they doing here?” the other officer asks, furrowing his brows.

  “I was seen with someone famous over the weekend and my bosses sold my name to the paparazzi,” I mutter.

  “You’re the girl who partied with the prince?” one of them asks.

  My face heats with embarrassment at his question. I whisper an almost inaudible yes before James bursts through my door.

  “Holy shit, Cait. Are you all right?” he asks, running over to me and pulling me into an embrace.

  “I’m fine, James. Nothing happened. It just scared me is all,” I admit before taking a step back.

  “And you are?” one of the officers asks.

  “This is my friend, James Beck,” I introduce.

  “Who was it? Did you catch the bastard?” James rattles off, demanding to know.

  The officer explains about the paparazzi at the door, the fact that they don’t see any damage or stolen items, and that they have no real leads. James insists they write up a report anyway, and it takes another thirty minutes of questions to gather their information for the report.

  “You’re coming back to our house,” James announces.

  “James…” I start to say. He glares at me and the look instantly shuts me up.

  I pack a small overnight bag with just a few days’ worth of clothes and together we lock my front door and leave my shitty little apartment.

  “Why didn’t you call me when those reporters were swarming around you?” James asks once we’re settled into his pickup truck.

  “I honestly just wanted to go to bed. Did Mads tell you what happened?”

  “She did,” he nods.

  “I just wanted to be alone,” I mutter, staring out the passenger window.

  “Yeah, you wanted to wallow and feel sorry for yourself,” James announces.

  “I can’t have one day to feel sorry for myself?” I ask defensively.

  “Madison and I are your family. We’re here for you, Cait. You don’t have to do anything alone, and that means braving those fucking vultures who were at your door.”

  “I didn’t think anything like this would happen. I just wanted to forget about it all and put off dealing with it,” I sigh.

  “No more, Cait. That right there scared the shit out of me,” he grunts as we pull into the driveway of his and Madison’s house.

  I love their place. James owns his own custom home building company, and he completely remodeled the main house and the pool house as soon as they purchased the property a few years ago. The details he added and the love and care they both put into the project pours out of the house itself.

  We don’t say a word as we walk inside of the living room, and that’s when I see Madison sitting on the sofa in her robe. Her hair is in a messy bun and she’s makeup-less, a sight nobody on earth has probably ever seen aside from James and me.

  “You are going to move into the pool house. We’ll clear it out this weekend. You’ll give notice to your landlord, and you’ll live rent free for forever and be right in my backyard, just as you should have always been,” Madison announces, her eyes staring straight at me and her voice never wavering.

  “Madison, I can’t mooch off of you and James. I wouldn’t feel right.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you feel, Cait. Tonight was the scariest night of my life. Not to be a bitch, but your apartment is shit, the neighborhood is worse than shit, and it terrifies me on a regular day. If you’re in the pool house, then James and I are close enough to help if you need us and vice versa. You can help out with cooking, laundry, housework, and yard work if it makes you feel any better. But you’re staying. You need us, and God knows I always need you, Cait. I won’t take no for an answer and neither will James,” she states.

  I don’t know how to respond to that.

  What is there to say to her?

  “I want my best girls close by,” James mutters, finally speaking.

  He hasn’t called us his best girls since high school. I turn to look at him and see that he’s obviously concerned. This move wouldn’t just be for my benefit, but it would make the two people I love most in the world feel and sleep better.

  “You guys are crazy and too much,” I whisper as my eyes fill with tears.

  “We’re having a packing party tomorrow after work, and some of James’ guys can help you move on Saturday,” she grins.

  I nod, unable to say anything else. I can already feel the tears falling from my eyes.

  Once we’ve loaded up one pickup full of my things, I look around my apartment and realize I own nothing decent. Madison and James have fully furnished their pool house, so the only things I need to really bring are my personal items.

  Originally, I thought about putting everything in storage, but as my eyes scan the space, I realize it’s all worthless.

  “I think I’m just going to have a donation place pick up everything else,” I announce.

  “Really?” James asks.

  “Oh, thank god,” Madison sighs.

  “Yeah, it’s not really worth storing,” I shrug.

  “Cait, I love you, but it’s crap,” Madison announces. If I didn’t love her, I’d probably strangle her.

  She’s right, though. All my stuff is second hand, and the things she and James have given me were all used as well. The few things I’ve bought were because I needed them, not because they were pretty and I wanted to make my house a home.

  As we carry boxes up and down my staircase, I’m thankful that the paparazzi aren’t hanging around today, and I’m hopeful that they’ve moved onto someone else.

  Though, the clients at my work haven’t. We were busier today than we have ever been, and I seemed to be the resident side show. Stares, giggles, and silly questions one right after the other all day long were aimed toward me.

  Driving my crappy blue car, following behind James’ pickup, I can’t believe that I’m moving. I can’t believe that I just packed everything I wanted, donated the rest, and now I’m going to be living in James and Madison’s pool house.

  It’s crazy to me.

  Completely and totally crazy.

  Before we can pull into the driveway, I let out a gasp. The paparazzi weren’t at my place because they’re gathered at James and Madison’s.

  “Get the fuck off of my front lawn,” I hear Madison screaming as I open the front door of my car.

  “Go around the back, don’t let them see you,” James whispers loudly toward me.

  I glance over to where Madison is. She’s keeping them busy by ranting and raving about her marigolds. I hurry as fast as I can toward the back fence, and slip into the backyard, latching the gate behind me. I close my eyes and let out a breath as I let my head fall against the back of the closed gate.

  I can’t believe the nightmare isn’t over. It’s here, and it’s in my face, and now I’ve brought it to my f
riends’ home—their beautiful home.

  “Don’t even stress about it,” Madison says, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

  “On your yard, at your home, Mads,” I mutter.

  “I hate marigolds. Fucking did me a favor,” she chuckles.

  “Mads,” I whisper.

  “You’re home now. It’s fine. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t know you were going to be safe. There’s too many weirdos in the world.”

  Madison wraps her hand around mine, giving it a squeeze before she leads me toward the newly remodeled pool house. I’ve never actually been inside, not since James re-did it, finishing construction only a couple of weeks ago. I saw it in its original state, which was pretty sad. It was just a big empty room they used for storage that happened to have a bathroom inside.

  “Now it’s only one-bedroom, but it’s all yours, Cait,” Madison announces as she opens the door and steps inside.

  My mouth gapes at the sight in front of me. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever lived in my life. I turn to my left and see the small kitchen with granite countertops and top of the line stainless steel appliances. The granite is a deep blue with white and gold swirls throughout. The cabinets are white with gold glass pulls on the drawers.

  The floors are a deep mahogany, rich and beautiful throughout the entire house. There is a dove grey sofa, and a deep blue chair and ottoman, with a white coffee table to tie in the kitchen cabinet colors. There’s even a small dining room that has a tall, dark blue table with four chairs.

  Madison takes my hand and pulls me toward the room that’s to be my bedroom. It has a queen sized bed with two nightstands and a matching dresser, with a flat screen television that is mounted to the wall right above it. The bed’s comforter is a deep purple with turquoise and gold throw pillows.

  “You are too much,” I whisper as tears steam down my cheeks. “This is all too much.”

  “You should have moved in as soon as it was finished. It’s yours. You’re our family,” James murmurs, walking into the bedroom.

  “We love you, so much,” Madison whispers as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me in for a hug. James follows suit, pressing his front to Madison’s back and wrapping his arms around us. This is my family.

  When James and Madison go into the main house for the evening, that’s when I climb into bed and my mind drifts toward Henrik.

  I close my eyes, imagining his smile, his messy hair, and if I concentrate really hard, I can still imagine his smell. I’ve never had a man be as nice to me as Henny was.

  I just wish that it could have all been real.

  I wish that we could have had more, even if it was just one more day.

  I flip a coin in my hand while my friend Rueben talks about a new car he’s just bought himself. Apparently, it’s fantastic. I don’t care about it, though; I don’t care about much.

  “Hen, what is your deal?” he asks.

  “Huh?”

  “Is it the black-haired Vegas girl? Is that what’s got you all twisted up?” he asks. I lift my eyes to look at him and he’s grinning like a fool. “She was quite the piece.”

  “Shut up, you arsehole,” I growl.

  “You ready to marry, Eugenie?” he asks, changing topics.

  “And have my cock freeze off and break into a million shards?” I ask, arching a brow. He shivers at my words and shakes his head.

  “Right.”

  “Yeah, right,” I grunt.

  “You’re really going through with it, then?” he asks.

  “I am,” I shrug. “Family, country, and all that shit.”

  “You’ve been lost since Vegas. In all seriousness, the girl?”

  “She’s gone. It doesn’t matter,” I shrug.

  “The look on your face says she does. You sure you can’t try and make a go with her?” he asks, sounding almost hopeful.

  “She’s sweet, yeah. She’s soft and warm, and nothing like the acceptable women I’m allowed to consider. She’s also American, which makes her so far from acceptable it’s ridiculous. So, yeah, I’m sure I can’t try and make a go with her.”

  “Fuck. I used to want to be you, you know?” he admits. “Now, the older we get, the more shit responsibilities that get thrown at you, I don’t envy you at all. Does that make me a shit friend?” he asks with a grin.

  “That makes you smart. You see past all the smoke into the truth of it all. I don’t have control over anything in my life, and that is the fucking worst.”

  I close my eyes for a second, seeing Riona when I do—wishing I didn’t, but glad at the same time that I still remember every single curve of her soft body. Fuck. I want her again, and again, once more wouldn’t be enough.

  “What would happen if you just, took control?” he asks.

  I think about his words. What would happen?

  I honestly don’t know. But I kind of wish I had enough fortitude to find out.

  IT’S BEEN FOUR WEEKS SINCE I moved into James and Madison’s pool house. The paparazzi still haven’t left me alone, though it’s died down a bit. They’re sticking to bothering me while I’m at work, or walking to and from my car in public, not so much James and Madison’s house anymore—which I’m extremely thankful for.

  Tonight, we’re eating together around James and Madison’s dining room, a family dinner of pasta from James’ favorite restaurant. While I’m loving it, I can tell that there’s something up with Madison. She’s bouncing all over her chair and can’t sit still.

  “Mads, what is going on with you?” James finally asks, taking a sip of wine.

  “I’m pregnant!” she blurts.

  I stand as quickly as I can and run over to my friend, enveloping her in a giant hug. It takes us a minute to realize that James hasn’t said anything. Both of us stop and look over at him. He’s sitting across the table, a wine glass in his hand and his mouth hanging wide open.

  “Go be with your husband. I’m going home,” I murmur, giving her one last hug.

  “No, stay and celebrate,” she urges.

  “Absolutely not. We’ll celebrate soon with loads of chocolate and ice cream. Tonight, be with your husband.” I turn and take my plate of food and fork, placing my hand on James’ shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Go to your wife, James.”

  I don’t turn around to even catch a glimpse of their happiness on my way out of the house. This is a private moment between them. I’m so happy for my friends, but they need to be alone and relish in their joyous news. They’ve been trying so hard and have been stressing out so much about this, they deserve to relish in the happiness together, without a third-wheel.

  Once I’m back in my own home, I turn on the television and, like a train wreck, I can’t look away. There, in bright colors, is Henrik. He’s standing with his brother and his brothers fiancée.

  How had I not recognized him? I feel so foolish now, looking back. The security, the VIP treatment at the club, and the surprise in his eyes when he told me where he was from—it all makes sense now.

  I turn up the volume and listen to the news on the royal family.

  They’re announcing his brother Philip’s wedding date and, at the same time, Henrik’s engagement. The camera pans over to a woman standing at Henrik’s side.

  She’s absolutely stunning.

  The announcer says that she’s tamed the badboy of the castle.

  She’s blonde and petite, dressed in a skirt suit with perfectly styled hair and makeup. She’s everything I’m not, including from a royal family herself.

  I can’t comprehend anything else the reporters are saying. My focus is solely on Henrik. He’s standing next to his brother and his new fiancée, in a sweater, with not a hint of the fun loving man I met just over a month ago in Vegas. My heart aches at the news and the sight of him.

  I turn off the television, unable to hear anything else, unable to look at him a second longer—it hurts too badly.

  One night shouldn’t hurt this bad.

&nb
sp; To see him with someone else shouldn’t affect me the way that it does.

  We had a connection.

  I fell for him instantly.

  As I chew on my bottom lip, the truth slaps me in the face—he wasn’t single. I am the other woman. He cheated on her with me; he had to have.

  I decide to change into my pajamas and go to bed. Today is a happy occasion for Madison and James, I don’t need this dark cloud above our home. That’s what thinking of Henrik does; it brings this dark cloud of doom over me. I can’t have him, and I shouldn’t even think about him.

  Standing next to my brother, in the hot as fuck sunshine, and trying to smile for the television cameras, in a fucking sweater, is my version of hell. Luckily, I like Philip’s fiancée, Bee, so I’ll endure this paraded shit show, just for her. I do not, however, like the woman at my right.

  “You know now all attention will be on you, don’t you?” Philip murmurs out of the side of his mouth.

  “Yeah,” I shrug.

  “You should try and pick your own woman,” Philip urges, trying to keep his voice down so the icicle standing next to me doesn’t hear him.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Henrik.” He sighs but then, thankfully, drops the topic.

  What I neglect to tell him is that it doesn’t matter because I can’t have the only girl I have ever wanted. Caitriona would never be accepted by my father and grandfather. I wouldn’t be allowed to marry her, and though it’s been five weeks since I have seen her, I’ve wanted nobody else since I had her. She’s the only woman I desire. I’ve gone over the possible scenario in my head a million times and there’s just no way in fuck my family would accept her.

  I can’t forget her—her infectious smile, her thick dark hair, or her gorgeous full body. She’s nothing like I’ve ever had before, and yet she’s everything I desire now.

  Nobody else will do.

  Nobody else is even appealing. And isn’t that the fucker? I don’t even know her. She was supposed to be my one last hurrah before settling down with the ice bitch, my one last shot of fun.