by Tee, Marian
The prince had heard enough.
He started to walk away, ignoring the part of him that felt it was too damn soon, too damn quick. It was as if he had only a taste of what life could be, of how it was to be loved, and how it was to love-—
But the other part of him told him he was only fooling himself.
You knew.
You always knew it couldn’t last.
You always knew you would have to leave her one day.
Yet he had still allowed her to get under his skin anyway, and now they were both paying the price.
A shuddering breath racked his body as the coldness of the dark started to spread inside of him. The cold would keep him in line, the dark would make him strong, and he needed both to break her heart before he broke his.
Pretensions made the world go round.
By the time the prince made it out of the hallway, emotions no longer existed for him.
He motioned for a guard, asking him to deliver a message to the student council’s vice president, and when it was done—-
He couldn’t remember the darkness feeling this cold.
The prince walked past his friends, impervious to the grim gazes that went his way.
Wheels had already been set in motion.
And there was no turning back.
****
Heartbreak was like having to live through bad weather, and there were always signs that foretold it. The only problem was, some people didn’t know what these signs were. And some of those who did know didn’t want to see them.
Heartbreak was like a storm that didn’t seem to want to leave you alone, making you think that it could last forever, even though the mind knew better. Its taste was of endless raindrops dripping past your lips, the terrifying feel of wind whipping against your body, capable of blowing you away anytime it wanted to.
Heartbreak, once experienced, could never be forgotten.
And yet the heart was a curiously strong little thing.
It was able to mend, to piece itself back together, and to beat for another person.
It had the most powerful ability to forget the pain of breaking—-
It had the most incredible ability to blind itself to all the signs it should have seen the first time, the second time, the third time, the signs it should have seen now—-
But perhaps that was where its strength lay.
The heart’s impossibly tenacious hold on hope was why it survived.
No matter what it saw, heard, felt—-
No matter what it sensed—-
It would always want to believe that things couldn’t be as bad.
Any time now, Fawn told herself. And yet despite time moving so slowly, the prince still hadn’t appeared.
People started filing inside the trade hall, and there were only five minutes left before the opening waltz.
Craning her neck, she tried looking for the prince in the crowd.
Where are you?
The opening notes of the waltz began to play, and her head snapped towards the orchestra in shock. What did they think they were doing? The prince wasn’t here yet!
Grant suddenly appeared in front of her, a harassed expression on his face. “Lou’s not here,” he told her, “and the president says we should partner instead.”
“But—-”
Applause filled the trade hall, leaving Fawn no time to ask any questions. She took her position alongside the other girls, and screams from the females in the crowd were earthshaking as they saw the BBFs—-
Fawn couldn’t help looking, couldn’t help hoping.
But the prince was still nowhere to be found.
The orchestra gave their musical cue for the dancers to begin, and the men bowed while the women curtsied.
And then they started to dance.
It was a magical, glittering moment, an electrical display allowing brilliant beams of light to shower down on the couples waltzing on the dance floor. The orchestra’s instrumental introduction slowly faded, and when they started to play again, everyone gasped as they recognized the next piece being played.
So This Is Love.
Fawn’s own smile started to wobble.
Holy sweet Jesus, is this your way of telling me that I should keep hoping?
“Don’t w-worry,” Grant said under his breath as he pulled her for a spin. “The p-prince h-has to have a r-reason that he c-couldn’t m-make it.”
A tiny ache squeezed her heart at his attempt to reassure her. It was like having the old Grant back again, the one that didn’t flinch at every shout, didn’t whiten at the sound of people laughing, didn’t look like he wanted to throw up every time he saw any of the security personnel with their guns on their holsters.
As Grant spun her back to him, she told him brightly, “I’m not worried.”
As if he hadn’t heard her at all, Grant continued, “She’s n-not the prince’s type.”
Fawn was startled. “Who?”
Now, Grant looked equally surprised. “Lou, of course.”
Oh.
The two of them began sweeping across the dance floor with the other couples, and Fawn wondered numbly why it had never occurred to her at all that the prince and Lou could be together.
Looking up at Grant, she said unevenly, “I r-really must be an idiot, aren’t I?” Hysterical laughter threatened to escape her throat. “I d-didn’t even think of that scenario.”
“You’re n-not,” Grant reassured her. “You’re j-just too nice...” He stopped speaking as he concentrated on assisting her make a quick dip in the dance floor, making sure to synchronize their movements with the other couples. When he pulled her up, he said quietly, “You w-weren’t able to i-imagine me doing s-something you c-couldn’t p-possible do y-yourself.”
When the music ended, they bowed to the audience with the rest of the couples, and thunderous applause rose to the rafters. The host stepped forward then, officially opening the casino to ticketholders.
As Fawn rushed towards the back stairs, thinking that perhaps the prince had held Lou off from causing more trouble, Grant caught up to her, saying, “I’ll h-help you look for them.”
She shook her head quickly. “That would be awkward—-”
“Not r-really. If you do f-find them together, I’ll b-be able to get her off t-the prince’s hands, and you g-guys can...talk.”
That made sense, but—-
She laughed nervously. “Right. Talk.”
Grant’s eyes bored through hers.
“We’re really just going to talk,” she protested weakly.
“D-do me a favor, and just please shut up?”
“Grant!” But she was far from offended and instead grinned up at him. “You almost sound your old arrogant self!”
“S-shut up.” But he was grinning down at her, and for that one single moment – it was as if they were back to where they started, and they were just good friends that looked after each other.
Together, they raced up the stairs, and Fawn tried not to let her mind dwell too much on how surreal everything felt. She and Grant were together looking for their respective lovers, and neither of them was trying to kill each other for it.
How crazy was that?
“Thanks for doing this,” she blurted out as they reached the landing for the second floor.
“Remember what I said?” Grant glared at her over his shoulder. “You’re m-making me sound more like a loser with every word you speak.”
She flashed him a peace sign, saying weakly, “Sorry.”
They checked the offices one at a time, with half of them empty while the other half was occupied by interns from Derek Christopoulos’ staff. They all had their headsets on and were in front of their laptops, furiously typing as they monitored bids for the ongoing online auction.
When they reached the office at the end of the hallway, Grant and Fawn looked at each other.
“L-last one,” Grant muttered under his breath.
Her smile wobbled. “I know.
And either they’re both here or they’re somewhere else.”
Grant gave her an odd look. “A few m-minutes ago, you were convinced they w-weren’t together.”
She looked at him steadily. “It’s the only plausible reason, isn’t it?” Another tiny little ache in her heart, but it hurt a hundred times more now. “But I trust him.”
This time, Grant didn’t say anything, only turning towards the door, and Fawn swallowed behind him as he reached for the knob.
Grant opened the door slowly, and her heart began to play a staccato beat out of fear.
And then she heard the prince say, “Come in, Bennett. I’ve been waiting for you two.”
Ah.
Pushing past Grant, she tumbled inside the room—-
One second.
One second for her to memorize everything she saw inside the room—-
Matte gray walls.
A low ceiling.
White blinds drawn shut over four pairs of windows.
A pile of empty boxes next to a gray couch.
A money tree on the opposite corner.
And at the center of the room was the prince, dressed in his beautiful black tux, and there was something hurtfully nostalgic in the way he was perched on the edge of the desk.
His green eyes collided with hers.
Surreal, everything was so stupidly, painfully surreal.
He was alone, but it didn’t matter.
Lou wasn’t with him, but she almost wished it were the other way around.
Because the way the prince was looking at her now—-
One second, Fawn thought numbly again.
One second for her to immortalize the scene in her mind.
One second for her world to crumble.
One second for the ground to disappear under her, and then she was falling, falling, falling—-
Heartbreak was viciously cruel like that.
“I paid Lou Merrill a million dollars to stay away from you.”
The prince’s voice was perfect in its cadence, perfect in its absence of emotion. Listening to it made her feel faint, and Fawn wondered numbly if heartbreak could be an actual illness.
“I’ve made sure she’s aware of the consequences if she chooses to break her word.”
She heard the words, knew what it meant, but she couldn’t make herself care. All she could do was stare at him.
Why, why, why do you have to do this?
She watched the prince shove his hands deep into his pockets, knew he was going to tell her it was all over.
She started to open her mouth—-
To beg, to demand, to cry—-
But the prince forestalled her. “Don’t do this, Fawn.”
His quiet, sharp command sewed her trembling lips shut.
“You know I could have done this in a more hurtful way, don’t you?” The prince’s tone became quiet, almost weary, and oh, how it magnified her hurt, making it a thousand times worse, making it impossible for her to speak—-
Yes.
Yes, she did know.
She knew this could have been so much worse, knew he could have made it the way he had once told her—-
Pay Lou Merrill a million dollars to fuck her in front of Grant, maybe another million if Fawn was there, too.
She knew he could have made that happen.
She knew.
“But I didn’t.” The prince looked at her, and all she could do was look back at him—-
Oh, prince.
Just because he didn’t make it worse didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.
But she locked the words away, knowing if she let one slip, the tears would come with it.
“Because I’m fond of you.”
Ah.
He was fond of her.
Oh, prince.
You have to know I love you, and you—-
Her hands crept up to her mouth, forcing everything back.
“I wish you and Bennett a happy life together.”
Ah.
Her vision wavered, his beautiful face began to multiply, and she found herself numbly wondering if heartbreak could be an actual illness.
A thousand things rushed to her mind—-
Do what you couldn’t do earlier.
Beg. Cry. Scream.
Stop him from leaving.
Tell him you love him.
But when she saw the prince come to his feet, it was the words that weren’t planned at all that fell from her lips.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
The prince stilled.
“D-did you really think I was that much of an idiot?” A tremulous laugh escaped her. “Did you really think I loved you so l-little I wouldn’t know?” Her voice broke. “When you came here tonight, you didn’t have to tell me anything. I saw it in your eyes—-”
She stared at the prince, willing him to deny it, begging him to tell her she had it all wrong—-
But the prince only stared back at her.
“You’ve decided it was time to leave me,” she choked out. “Didn’t you?”
The prince’s gaze didn’t leave her as he said simply, “Yes.”
Oh God.
“Because it’s become painfully obvious that you’re no longer in love with Bennett.” The prince’s tone was flat. “You were in love with me.” The impenetrable mask on his beautiful face told her what he felt behind the words.
And it was nothing.
He felt nothing.
Nothing.
He knew she loved him, and he—-
And he—-
She forced herself to laugh. “It’s not going to be that easy, p-prince. You won’t be able to push me away that easily. Been there, done that, and since it didn’t work then—-” Her voice started to rise. “Why would you think it would be different now?”
“I already told you,” he said gently.
“And I’m saying I don’t believe you!” Fawn knew she was being hysterical. But she couldn’t stop herself. “You’re pushing me away because of a fetish?” A hollow laugh slipped past her lips. “Bullshit.”
The prince’s gaze became veiled.
“You may not l-love me now, but I can make you love me. I can, and you know it—-”
“If that’s what you’d like to believe,” the prince said quietly, “that’s your choice—-”
She charged to him, slapping him so hard her fingers left an imprint on his cheek. “Stop it!” Her voice shook. “Just stop with the b-bullshit, okay?”
Staring at him, Fawn forgot about Grant being in the same room with them, forgot that the door was still open and that the whole world could hear them. She forgot about everything except the need to make him realize she had to be beside him.
Her fists clenched.
There was nowhere else for her to go.
Staring up at the prince, she said brokenly, “You made me so happy. So happy, prince, without even trying.”
But the prince didn’t say anything, only pulling her into his arms, and this time she could no longer stop the tears from falling.
She felt his lips brush against her hair, and it was almost like hearing him speak.
I’m sorry.
She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could pretend she didn’t understand, wishing she didn’t love him so much that she was able to hear even the words he wasn’t saying.
“Please,” she choked out. “Please just think about it.”
But the prince only started stroking her hair.
The tears fell faster, and she found herself clutching his shirt. “D-don’t you think that means I can make you happy, too?”
The prince’s fingers slowed, threading through the strands of her hair one final time.
Goodbye.
And then he was pulling away.
“Baby, don’t go.” The words were torn out of her.
But the prince still turned his back on her, and all she could do was stand there, crying.
Surreal, everything was so painful
ly surreal—-
When the prince started to walk away, her body started to shake with uncontrollable sobs.
Igor, you were wrong.
I’m not his special lady.
And then he was gone.
Time slipped past her, and she started to sway.
Grant caught her before she fell. “Fawn—-” He lifted her up and hurriedly laid her on the couch. Kneeling next to her, he turned her face to him—-
Shiny, shattered eyes stared back at him.
God, God, oh God—
It was like looking into the mirror.
Grant yanked her to him, his arms closing around the only girl he loved.
This was his fault, he thought sickly, all this was his goddamn fault.
His arms tightened around Fawn. She would have never fallen in the prince’s clutches if he hadn’t betrayed her, wouldn’t be hurting if he hadn’t—-
“He’ll come back, w-won’t he?”
The sound of her voice made Grant want to weep, and he could only hug Fawn more tightly, telling himself that he was just imagining it.
Dear God, please let me be just imagining it.
Please let her not be as broken as me.
“You b-believe the same thing, don’t you?”
Oh God.
Fawn pushed him away, her shiny, shattered eyes looking up at him with the need to hear a lie. “He’ll come back. Right?”
God, oh God.
Once, Grant had thought nothing could be worse than what he had gone through at the prince’s hands.
But now he knew he was wrong.
Seeing someone as kind and as innocent as Fawn drowning in a sea of pain the same way he had—-
This was worse.
A thousand times worse—-
“You b-believe me, d-don’t you?”
Grant swallowed hard. “I b-believe you.” He might be broken beyond repair, but he wouldn’t let the same thing happen to Fawn. “He’ll come back.” His voice tightened. “I promise.”
****
The prince didn’t allow himself to think but instead threw himself into work, both the real kind and the secret type, saving and destroying lives, knowing from experience that it was the only way to move on.
It was how he had survived the loss of his parents.
It was how he had coped with Georgie’s death.
And this one wouldn’t be any different.
One day, the devastating pain that kept him awake every damn night would pass.
