Secret Italian Prince's Baby

by Alyse Zaftig

  "You're incredible," he told me.

  "Right back at you," I panted, trying to catch my breath. He cuddled my close and kissed my neck.

  "I wish we could stay like this forever."

  I thought about just telling the pilots to land every so often so that we could take on more fuel, water, and food, and staying in the sky. The carbon footprint of this jet had to be insane. I sighed. It was a pretty dream to think about just flying around the world with Massimo, but he had to stay grounded. He had so much stuff that money could buy, but everything came with a price.

  When I woke up, we were landing in NYC.

  "How long have I been asleep?"

  "Since we...gave you membership to an exclusive club." He kissed my neck. He'd dressed me again. "You didn't wake up when we landed to refuel."

  “I was really tired,” I said. “I normally don’t sleep this much.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he said. “But we should leave now, cara.” He took my hand in his. “We can take a shower before we meet her for the first time.”

  I followed him down the stairs onto the runway. A limousine was waiting there. I crawled in before he did. He kept a warm arm around me while I leaned into him. I was still kind of sleepy. I didn’t know why I was so tired all of the time.

  When we got to the hotel, I let him support me as we got out of the car. I leaned on his shoulder as I went upstairs in an elevator.

  “Are you awake enough to take a shower?” he asked.

  “With you, if you do the work.”

  He laughed and kissed my temple. “I’ll do the work.”

  He stripped me efficiently and kissed my exposed skin as he removed each piece of clothing reverently.

  “You’re very beautiful,” he told me. Then he kissed his way up my thighs. He kissed the swell of my stomach. I was self-conscious about my softness, but he seemed to like it. He frowned a little. “This feels a little firmer than it used to.”

  I widened my eyes at him. “What?”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  I choked. I was suddenly all the way awake. “Pregnant?”

  “Have you taken any tests?”

  “No!” I yelped. “You’re crazy.”

  “It’s a possibility, isn’t it?” He looked at me and rubbed his chin. “Have you slept with anybody else since we had sex?”

  “No,” I said. “Cairns is full of people who look like they’re in high school. And everyone else is also gross.”

  “Can you humor me and take a pregnancy test? You’ve been pretty tired lately.”

  I got lightheaded. “You’re kidding.”

  “Just humor me,” he said. “I’m going to ask the concierge to send someone to the nearest pharmacy and get a test.”

  “Whatever you want,” I yawned. “But I believe I was promised a shower.”

  He turned on the water and cleaned me in the most clinical and briskly efficient way possible. I could see that he was stressed by the prospect of a royal baby inside of me. But either way, the deed was either done or not. If I didn’t have a baby inside me, I’d make sure to get an IUD or something so he wouldn’t be so stressed out.

  Later, though. I was so sleepy that I was probably going to asleep in the shower. When my head rolled forward, Massimo turned off the shower and dried me off as much as he could. He put me into the bed naked and climbed in after me, biting and then kissing my shoulder.

  “Sleep, sweetheart,” he told me.

  When I woke up, there was a box sitting on the nightstand in front of my face. I swallowed hard.

  “Good morning, darling.”

  “You really think that I’m pregnant?” I asked.

  “Only one way to find out.”

  I took the box, disentangled myself from the bedsheets, and went into the bathroom. I was sweating even though the room was air conditioned.

  “I don’t know if I want to open Pandora’s Box.”

  “It’s better to know, cara.”

  I broke the box open. My hands were shaking so much that it took me two tries to tear it open.

  “Excuse me,” I said. I didn’t know why my eyes filled with tears like I was going to cry. I felt like I was on a roller coaster as it slowly came to the top before for the steep drop.

  I went to the bathroom and peed on the stick. When I was done, I came out. Massimo was looking at the box that I’d torn open.

  “It says to wait for 5 minutes.”

  “Cool.”

  I stared at him.

  “Everything will be okay,” he reassured me, coming over to wrap me in his arms and rest his chin on the top of my head. Being squeezed and surrounded by his scent helped, but I couldn’t deny that my stomach felt like I was going to throw up, maybe from nervousness or pregnancy.

  He held me like that until the timer on his phone began to go off. He turned it off and we both went to look at the stick in the bathroom.

  My heart was beating like an 808 drum. I was surprised that it didn’t burst out of my chest.

  “Two lines means that I don’t have a baby, right?”

  “Wrong.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Congratulations.”

  I felt a spike of fear. He didn’t look happy. “What does this mean?

  “It means that for better or worse, you’re stuck with my for the rest of our lives.” He sank to one knee, right there in the bathroom. “Celestine, will you marry me?”

  I couldn’t breathe. It felt like somebody had sucked all the oxygen out of the room, like one of the specialized rooms where they kept really old books and had to keep the oxygen from destroying the paper.

  “No,” I squeaked with the little bit of air left in my lungs. “I have to sit down.”

  Despite the fact that I’d just turned down his marriage proposal, Massimo was a gentleman and pulled me into his arms. He laid me on the bed while I covered my eyes with one hand.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to get married,” Massimo said prosaically.

  “Besides that,” I said, knowing that it was a foregone conclusion. Sure, I’d said no, but Massimo could be very persuasive.

  “We’ll work things out.” He stroked the back of my hand. “Everything will work out.”

  I tried to get my breathing under control. I was seriously panicking at the prospect of some kind of shotgun wedding to a handsome prince. Yes, he had a pretty face, but he'd also vanished entirely on me. I didn't know if I could really count on him. There was no guarantee that any of this would work out.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, but we’re going to be late for meeting my mother if we don’t leave now.”

  I groaned. “Right.” I rolled off of the bed and washed my face. I put on my nicest dress, which wasn’t that nice since I was mostly on the road. But it was business professional and it wasn’t like she was expecting me to show up in an evening gown. I put on enough makeup to cover up the shadows under my eyes, which were confusing to me because I felt as if I’d slept as much as Sleeping Beauty.

  When I got out of the bathroom, Massimo was waiting, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a close-cut gray bespoke suit that fit him like a lover.

  “Is that Italian wool?”

  “Of course,” he said. “Come, cara.” He offered me his arm. I clung to him like a lifeline in a sea. I was disoriented, and he felt like that only real thing in my world.

  We took an elevator down before we got into his car. I watched people walking on the sidewalks outside before, too soon, the limousine stopped in front of a restaurant. I could hear my heart thumping in my ears.

  Meeting Mother

  The chauffeur opened the door. Massimo helped me out of the limousine. He guided me into the restaurant. I was about to say something to the maitre d’ when Massimo gently towed me to the right. His mother was already there. When I walked towards her, the temperature dropped about twenty degrees. Massimo's mother was sitting there, her hair in a perfect coiffure. Meanwhile, my hair was f
rizzing all over the place.

  "Hello, how do you do?" I said, extending my hand. "I'm so delighted to meet you."

  She did not extend her hand to me. She turned to Massimo and said, "How American."

  I felt my heart sink straight into my stomach. We were only seconds into our first encounter. I was already screwing up.

  "She hasn't met a princess before, Mamma," Massimo chided.

  "She's not from our world," his mother said.

  My stomach was tying itself into knots. I didn't want to be here.

  But whether or not I wanted anything to eat, an obsequious waiter brought over menus. I ordered a chicken sandwich. Our food came within five minutes. I picked at my sandwich, my appetite lost. Massimo and his mom were discussing implementing new taxes.

  What was I doing here? I didn't fit in with two people discussing major changes to public policy. It was so far removed from my world that it was absurd for me to be here, pinching pieces of bread off of my sandwich.

  It ended when her phone buzzed. "Excuse me," she said as she walked away. "I'll only be a moment."

  Massimo looked at me. "I'm sorry," he said.

  "We'll talk about it later," I replied.

  His mother was on the phone for only a minute. "Massimo, I need to go."

  A wave of cool relief swept over my body. She kissed his cheeks, gave me a cold, regal nod, and left us sitting there.

  "Do you want your sandwich?" Massimo asked.

  "No."

  Massimo reached for my hand as he flagged a waiter down. As soon as his mother was gone, I sprinted for the exit. I knew that Massimo was going to take care of the bill and I needed to be somewhere semi-private before I freaked out.

  I sat in the limo, waiting for Massimo to arrive. I was taking deep breaths so that I wouldn't cry and staring at the ceiling while blinking. I didn't want any tears to fall.

  Finally, the car door opened. Massimo walked in. "You did well tonight," he said. "I know my mother isn't the nicest person in the world, but you did well." He leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Thank you."

  I was paralyzed and speechless. I normally loved Massimo's sweet kisses, but I knew that I could not spend more time with a lady who had no problem putting me down and criticizing everything about me. If I stayed with Massimo, she'd be in my life forever. She was his mother. Family was definitely more important than a girlfriend, especially one who was just a commoner and an American at that. I felt as if there were a living knot behind my breastbone, dark and made of barbed wire. I couldn't breathe properly. I felt like I couldn't get enough air.

  "You okay?" Massimo asked, his hand turning my face so he could get a good look at me. That was when the first tear fell.

  "You're crying," he said, his voice full of horror and surprise.

  "Yes," I whispered, ashamed that I finally broke.

  "What's wrong?" Massimo asked me. He kissed the trail of my tears as they ran down my cheeks. It was as if by finally letting them fall, a river was starting to roar.

  "I think we should take a break," I said in a low voice. "Maybe we should talk in a week."

  "Why can't we talk now?" Massimo asked. "I'm here. You're here. I don't like seeing you cry, cara."

  His kindness and concern made me cry harder. The barbed wire tightened around my heart.

  "I don't want to," I whispered. "Please just give me a break for a week. We can have dinner next Friday, just you and me, okay?"

  "I have a gala I need to go to," Massimo said. "It's one of my mother's charity events. Saturday?"

  "Are you going alone to the gala?" I asked. I already knew the answer. I could feel my hot tears spilling down as my vision became blurry.

  Massimo seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "My mother has a friend from her school days whose daughter is only two years younger than me."

  "Right," I said, trying to swallow past the enormous lump in my throat. "Of course." Why would I ever expect anything different? I was a commoner and a little fling. In real life, he had to marry someone from his own social circle, someone with a really long name and a whole bunch of titles. I was just a random entrepreneur who was born in Camden, New Jersey and was fighting my way up. There was no room in his real life for me. I wasn't one of the glitterati. The cost of an evening gown for the gala next week represented a big chunk of my annual income and a tiny drop in the ocean for them.

  "My assistant sent the invitation months ago, before I ever met you. If I could take you, I would."

  "Sure," I said. I would fit in so well.

  "You sound unhappy," Massimo said.

  I bit my tongue to hold back a torrent of words. Of course I'm unhappy, I shouted in my head. Your mom just made me feel like a piece of gum stuck to your shoe and made it clear that we have no future. You might be okay with that, but I'm not. I thought I was falling in love with you, and now...

  "I'm really tired. That white wine was strong, so I'm sleepy."

  "The wine was de-alcoholized Moscato mixed with grape juice."

  "Oh." I felt like an idiot. "Okay, then." I closed my eyes, not willing to talk to him anymore.

  "Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it." Massimo touched my hand.

  I turned towards the window. "It's nothing that you can fix."

  I cried as quietly as I could all the way home. His hand was still on mine, large and comforting. I didn't shake him off. I tried to savor the last moments that we could have together, the warmth that he brought with him. After tonight, I wouldn't be able to have it again. Why would I put myself through the torment of meeting up with him on Saturday when I already knew what had to happen? This time in the limo was going to be our last, and I was ruining it by crying.

  I turned towards him and mashed our mouths together. I could feel the stiffness and surprise in his back before he put his hands on the back of my neck to hold me closer. I could feel the tears still falling down my cheeks, making our kiss salty. I kissed him with the desperation of someone who knew that she would never get to touch his perfect mouth with my own again. Kissing him was bliss and agony, heaven and hell. I knew that I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop. I sniffled but kept going, trying to breathe him in and hold onto this memory forever.

  When the car stopped, I broke the kiss. His hands fell back to his sides.

  "I'm sorry," I told him. "I don't want to...I just want..."

  "Tell me." Massimo jammed his big hands into his pockets. "What is it?"

  "I have to break up with you," I whispered, my voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

  "No," Massimo said, his voice as sharp as a rapier. "We're not done."

  "We are."

  "Is this about the gala? Because I can..."

  "It's not about the gala," I said. "It's about your...everything. Your family, your name, your history... I won't ask you to ignore any of that." I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. "I have to go."

  "Not yet," Massimo said. I wondered what the driver thought, idling here while Massimo and I talked in the back seat. Massimo's gigantic hand circled my wrist. "Stay until we resolve this."

  "There's nothing to resolve." I hated the breathy quiver in my voice. "You get to live the life of a prince and I get to go home."

  "It doesn't have to be like that."

  "It does." I could almost hear a giant iron door slamming shut.

  I looked into his eyes and saw pain there. I hated hurting him, but why should I put it off any longer? If we stayed together for another year or two, eventually we'd end up in the same place. It was easier to break up now, when we'd been together for just a little while. If we did it two years down the road, the memories would shred me. I already felt like I'd pulled my beating heart out of my chest and started slicing myself up with barbed wire.

  "What can I say to change your mind?"

  I felt more tears fall as I took in a shaky breath. "Nothing." I knew my makeup was ruined by my tears. Right now was the last time he'd ever see me. I was a total mess. "Thank you for everything
we shared. Goodbye." I tried to pull my wrist out of his grip.

  "I don't want to let you go." His hand was still there.

  "You have to." I used my other hand to take his off of my wrist. I could see that he was confused and upset. I had to go before my rational resolve crumbled under the emotional onslaught of even more tears.

  I yanked the door open and stumbled on the curb. I caught myself without any trouble, though, before finding my feet. I blessed past Celestine for having the foresight to wear my sexy boots instead of stilettos. I ran away from the limo, not caring that he probably thought that I was insane.

  I could've told him the truth, but it would it have helped anybody? It probably would've ended in tears and shouting. And I found myself wanting to end things with a whimper, not a bang. Prince Massimo was a good guy. One day, his perfect princess would be a lucky lady.

  I would not be her. Ever.

  My stomach told me that I was about to throw up. I tried to put my hand on it and keep myself from barfing, but as soon as I unlocked my door, I was heading for the bathroom and hurling. Barfing just added to my misery. I sank down to the floor and wished that I could jump into a time machine and never experience this night.

  Because I was an adult, I picked myself up and hopped into the shower, discarding all my clothes before going into the spray. If I was crying, the tears were mixing with the water and I could pretend that it was just a very wet shower.

  I heard my phone chime. I knew that it was probably Massimo. And I could not handle picking it up and answering.

  Instead of brushing my teeth and getting into my pajamas, I flopped on my bed totally naked. Maybe in the morning, everything would seem better.

  Running Away

  When I woke up, I checked the time. Seven AM. I could see the notification from Massimo.

  We should talk.

  It was childish of me, perhaps, but I didn't want to talk to him. I'd hurt myself twice as much as I'd hurt him last night. I'd given up anything that we could've had together, the good moments and the beautiful memories.

  I needed to get away from here. New York had nothing to offer me but heartache. I packed my bags and went to the airport. Priceline helped me fly standby on Delta. I decided to go to Vancouver. I'd be out of the country, but I wouldn't have to cross an ocean.