by Alyse Zaftig
I saw that it would be a few hours before I could leave. I went into the airport lounge that I could access with my Priority Pass and sat in a corner. I stared at a spreadsheet full of numbers I knew I had to crunch. I didn't want to.
I shut my laptop and took out my Kindle. But I couldn't focus on the nonfiction book that I had to review within a few months. The words were meaningless. I wasn't going to cry in this lounge in full sight of all these businessmen. Instead, I headed towards the shower stalls fully clothed. I sat on a bench in the changing area, wiping away my tears. I shouldn't have invested so much of myself into my relationship with Massimo, who was a prince but didn't tell me when we met.
I just wanted to find love with someone who was uncomplicated. But it seemed that it was impossible, really. I cried until my eyes hurt.
My phone rang. I saw that his name came up. I did not accept the call. I dried my eyes. It was hard to stop crying, but I was in public. I needed to go to my gate.
Still sniffling, I pulled myself together, put Visine drops in my eyes, and headed for the gate. I had barely gotten there when the gate agent said, "Paging Celestine. Celestine, if you're in the area, please contact the nearest gate agent."
I hustled to the desk. "I'm here."
"Celestine?"
"Yes."
"Great," she said. "Security just has a few questions about your luggage. If you could come this way, we'll get everything sorted out."
"Yeah, of course," I said, yanking my suitcase behind me. She used her badge to go into the back corridors and took me to a security center.
"Totally routine, nothing to worry about. I'll see you soon." She closed the door behind her. I realized as it slid shut that I couldn't get out of this holding room. I looked around. It was sterile and white. I sat down on a chair. One time, my aunt had gotten stopped because she had carried home a lot of scented candles from France. I didn't think that there was anything in my luggage that would set off alarms, but I was willing to ditch anything that airport security deemed dangerous.
When the door opened, my jaw dropped.
"Massimo?"
"Hello, cara," he said without his characteristic warmth.
"What are you doing here?" I looked around. There wasn't anybody else. "You can't be back here! It's airport security."
"I donated money to their retirement plans in order to get some time with you."
"I'm busy," I hissed. "I'm heading to Vancouver."
"Not today," Massimo said, running his hand through his hair.
"You can't just keep me in New York."
"Look around," Massimo said. "I think I can."
I crossed my arms. His eyes went to my cleavage. I hastily uncrossed them. "You have no right."
"I have every right." He leaned forward. "And you're not leaving this room until you tell me what's going on."
I set my jaw. "Snowball's chance." I was willing to wait until he gave up.
One hour passed. It was definitely past my boarding time.
Two hours passed. He was sitting down.
Three hours.
Four.
I was asleep on the table when I heard the door open. I groggily tried to open my eyes.
"There's a limit to how long we can reasonably detain anybody who hasn't been charged with a crime, sir. We have to let her go. And we're responsible for paying for her flight to Vancouver since we made her miss it."
"Thank goodness," I said, getting off of the table. I was sure that there was a red mark on one cheek.
"This is not the last time we'll see each other," Massimo said. "You will talk to me."
As a prince, I knew that he was used to getting his way. But he could not force me to hurt him. In this case, ignorance was bliss. I was going to leave NYC for a little while to regroup and maybe find a boy who came with less baggage. I didn't think that anybody could ever make me feel that Massimo did, but I hoped that I'd one day find a boy who made me feel a fraction of it.
"Bye," I said. I walked out of the security center, following the guy who'd set me free. He helped me talk to a Delta agent and grab a flight to Vancouver. And then I was headed out of the country.
As we were landing in Vancouver, I looked out the window. I could see the water, which was really nice. It was a beautiful city. I couldn't wait to get off of this plane. My legs felt so cramped. If only I had the money to fly first class and blow tons of money to alleviate temporary discomfort. We all lined up to get out of the cabin. I pulled my luggage out of the overhead compartment, trying not to hit anybody. The last thing I needed was to be detained in Canada for accidentally hitting someone with a heavy suitcase.
As we walked out, I thanked the flight attendants. The mark of a good flight attendant is for everything to go smoothly, and the flight was unremarkable. I walked out of the gate and was overwhelmed by the number of people ready to board a plane to NYC. I didn't know when I'd go to America, but I doubted that I wanted to run into Massimo anytime soon.
As soon as I got out the doors, I went to the taxi queue. I looked at the last-minute hotel booking app that randomly placed you where they had space, so I could go to LeSoleil. I'd have a bed to sleep in and probably cry in tonight. Tomorrow I'd figure out stuff to do in Vancouver.
I walked into a cab. The driver helped me get my suitcase into the trunk before we were off. I was trying not to cry as we went further. I tried to read a book to pass the time.
When I finished the book, I realized that we had been driving for a long time. I tapped Google Maps to figure out where we were. "Excuse me," I said. "Where are we?"
"Going to LeSoleil."
"But that's north of the airport. We're passing White Rock right now."
He hit the lock button. I tried to open the door, but nothing happened. The child locks must be engaged.
"What the fuck?" I asked. "You better stop right now."
"Sorry, miss," he said, as he reached under the radio for a gun. "I don't want to use this, but you should relax a little bit."
I felt panic flower in my stomach. I was being kidnapped by my taxi driver.
"I can report you, you know." I took a picture of his certificate, which had his name.
"Thank you for reminding me." He flicked a button on the radio. I lost all connectivity on my phone. I was trapped inside of a taxi with a crazy and armed driver. My phone wasn't going to save me. My breath was coming in fast pants.
"Where are you taking me?" I tried to keep panic out of my voice, but it was very clear that I was freaking out.
"You're safe," said the armed taxi driver and kidnapper.
"You have to be joking. You have a gun!"
"I'm not here to hurt you," he said soothingly. "Just enjoy the ride."
I saw a sign that said that we were approaching the Canadian-American border.
"I will scream at customs," I warned him. "You need to let me out."
"Good night," he said before pressing a button. There was a mist that seeped through the taxi. As my eyes slid shut, I saw him putting on some kind of gas mask. I had just enough time to wonder about what customs would say to that as I heard the whir of the windows opening.
When I woke up, I was in a room with a picture of white tulip buds over the bed. There was an ensuite bathroom to my right.
Also Massimo sitting in a chair.
"You're awake," he remarked.
"I am," I said. "You sent the taxi driver?"
"One of my security guards," he said. "I'm only lucky that you were so eager to get to LeSoleil that you didn't recognize him."
I cursed the fact that I'd been so distraught that I hadn't taken a good look at my taxi driver's face. "Let me go."
"You're free to leave this house any time you like. Your suitcase is there." He pointed to the corner. It hadn't been unpacked.
I pushed my hair behind my ear and walked out with my suitcase with as much dignity as I could. As soon as I stepped out of the house, I understood why he'd gone to the trouble of kidnapping m
e and would let me leave freely.
I was on an island. It wasn't terribly large. I could see the wide expanse of water in front of me. I brought my suitcase back into the house. Massimo was still sitting in the room where I'd woken up.
"You trapped me on an island."
"Welcome to one of my vacation homes, cara. I like the taste of fresh salmon."
I ground my teeth. "You're joking."
"Nobody has ever tried to leave before I was done with them before."
"Maybe you've never lied to someone to the extent that you lied to me, Prince Pietro." I spat out his title like foul black licorice, which I hated. "I thought you were a businessman."
"I am," he said.
"Lies of omission are still lies."
He ran a hand through his hair. "I wanted...I told you what I wanted."
"What about what I want? Someone who's honest with me, huh? What about that?" I didn't want to cry.
"We'll just spend some more time together," he said. "And you'll see reason."
I crossed my arms. "I hope you know that you'll be waiting for a long time."
"Bella," he said.
"Nope," I said. "You can't recreate the magic of when we were just two people falling in love. Stuff doesn't work like that."
He shrugged. "We have a lot of time. You'll come around eventually."
I was extremely stubborn. "When I was in kindergarten, my mom bought me a fuschia coat that I hated."
"And?"
"And I got pneumonia that winter because I wouldn't wear my coat. I spent a few weeks in the hospital."
Massimo massaged his forehead. "Please don't," he said.
"I won't wear my coat," I warned.
"I have to go," Massimo said when his phone buzzed.
I watched him walk away and just felt incredibly cold. I couldn't run away from this island, so I just went to walk outside. I thought of all the times that I'd wished as a kid that I could go on vacation on a sandy beach where it was warm during a cold winter in Camden. Here I was, in paradise, but I was still unhappy. Nothing was ever actually as picture perfect as it seemed.
My boyfriend had kidnapped me. Actually, I wasn't sure if he was my boyfriend. He was more like an aggressive ex who wouldn't accept that it was over. Then again, there were worse things than being kept in paradise. At least there'd be fresh salmon.
When I got tired of walking, I went back into my bedroom. I had toiletries in my suitcase, but instead I just flopped facedown on my bed. I felt tired enough to fall asleep a few seconds later.
I could smell fish as I woke up.
"Hello, ma'am," the chef said. He was wearing a stained apron that had seen better days. "I hope you like salmon chowder."
"I love it," I said. I'd fallen asleep fully clothed, but I was startled that people were bringing me food.
He put the food down on a table. "Please eat. I'll send someone to pick things up tonight."
"Okay," I said.
He smiled and bowed to me before walking off. I tasted just the tiniest spoonful of the chowder. The salmon exploded in my mouth. Then I was staring at an empty bowl, wondering if I could get more. I poked the bottom of the bowl to figure out if it was a trick bowl, but it appeared that I'd just consumed the chowder faster than anything I'd ever eaten in my life.
There was a fresh bread roll on the side, which I started eating. I loved the soft inside. While I was still eating the roll, Massimo strolled into my room.
"Hungry, I see," he said, looking at my empty tray.
"Very," I said. I felt a little sick from how quickly I'd eaten but I wasn't about to tell him that.
"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you, but I'm not sorry that you're here with me." His hand settled on mine.
"I want you to take me back to the mainland so I can forget about you." My voice was flat.
"I'm not going to let you go," Massimo said.
"You have to marry a princess or at least a noble. I don't have any of that blood in my veins. Your country will never accept me as a princess. You have to think of your citizens, the ones who need to know that their crown prince will one day produce heirs who can take over the throne."
"That's years away."
"It's right now," I said. "With how sick your dad is, it's a matter of time before you ascend to the throne and your mother becomes the dowager princess. They aren't going to accept me."
"Don't judge everyone by my mother," he sighed.
"She's the only one I've met," I said.
"Cara, I promise you that we can work this out."
A single tear made its way down my face. "I'm telling you we can't."
"You made me chase you to another country," he said.
"I did," I admitted. "But you brought me back to the US. You know that false imprisonment is a crime, right?"
"This island is one of my territories. My claim to it pre-dates the creation of your country. You're on my land."
I sucked in a breath. "When you kidnap a girl, you do it right, don't you?"
Massimo smiled, although there wasn't any laughter in it. "I just wanted to talk to you."
He slid to his knees in front of me and took my hands in his. I hated the chemistry that I felt even now as his captive. He could spark a fire in me any time he pleased.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked. "Why did you run away?"
"I can't be with you," I said. "I didn't know how much time I had. Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow. But you'll never be my forever."
"Is that all?" Massimo asked, relief evident on his face. "Because I'll be your forever."
I about fell out of my chair. His hands held me in place. "What?"
"You want to get married? We'll do it in America. Say the word and you'll be my wife."
A shard of icy fear pierced my heart. "Your parents will annul it."
"They can't annul an American marriage, cara. It doesn't matter that I'm one of their citizens. If I were getting married back home, I'd need their permission. There are old laws from the days of European theocracy that give them religious power over me. But we recognize international marriages. If we get married in America, they can't do anything besides declaring our marriage morganatic and making sure that one of my cousins inherits. And if you’ll marry me, I’ll promise to make your life as normal as I possibly can.”
"You mean it?"
"I wouldn't have proposed if I didn't."
"You can't tie yourself to me forever. What about your country?"
"It'll stand whether or not I marry you."
"What about the girl you're taking to the gala?"
"You're the only girl I'll have on my arm from now on, besides my mother or our daughters or various relatives. I can't promise that my great-aunt Isolde won't cut you out."
He made me laugh.
"That wasn't a joke, bella."
I looked into his eyes and saw his sincerity. I kissed his mouth. "I don't want to ever leave you again," I said.
"Is that a yes?"
I thought about how it had felt to get on a plane to Vancouver, about the desolation inside of me while I tried to hold it together. I could barely do it once. I definitely couldn't do it twice.
"Yes."
He whooped and pulled me into his arms, kissing me ferociously, like he was afraid that I'd disappear at any moment.
"We're going to Vegas," he told me.
Vegas Wedding
Less than two hours later, we were in his private jet and heading for Vegas. A lot of other places made you wait for a marriage license and a lot of paperwork. As many people regretted the morning after, you could get married very quickly in Vegas. Massimo didn't let go of my hand once as we drove through the Vegas streets to a 24-hour chapel. There was an Elvis there marrying an inebriated couple.
"Come with me," an entirely too cheerful lady said. "We have wedding dresses you can rent so that our photographer can send you nice pictures afterwards."
"I'll see you soon," I told Massimo. Most fairytales didn't includ
e a Vegas chapel, but whatever. We were making our own.
Two minutes later, I'd miraculously found a wedding dress that fit me. There were snaps inside of it to adjust the width. These people were professionals. The cheerful lady helped me make the dress fit properly. Then she motioned for hair and makeup people to attack me with various tools.
A half hour later, I was as good-looking as I was going to get. My hair was curled into submission. A glossy red lipstick was on my mouth. I looked like a bride.
"You're glowing," the cheerful lady gushed. Looking at myself in the mirror, I knew that I'd never felt more beautiful. She draped a string of pearls around my neck. She gave me a form to sign with the prices of everything they'd done. They had to make money, after all. It cost me twice what it otherwise might have, but you only got married once. I signed an authorization for the charges.
Then they were bringing me straight to Massimo.
"You look beautiful, bella."
"You look pretty good, too." I knew for sure that Massimo had his own tuxedos, but he was wearing a rented one. It still fit him like a glove.
Then there was music as the two of us walked down the aisle together. Nobody was here to give me away. I was here to bind my life together with a man who was too good to be true.
And he was all mine.
The officiant started speaking. There were two bridesmaids on my side who were acting as witnesses. A lot of times, Vegas weddings were considered sordid affairs that were annulled as soon as the couple woke up the next morning and came to their senses. I knew that I was entirely sober and didn't want to annul it.
Both of us confirmed that we wanted to be married to each other. Honestly the entire world felt like a colorful blur. But I felt his hand pushing my wedding band on my finger. I put a band on his. And then his mouth was on mine as his arms gripped my waist, wrapping around me like warm steel bands and lifting me off of my feet as he crushed his mouth to mine with my feet a foot in the air.
"Ahem," the officiant said.
