Although in retrospect, she should probably have expected him to show up. However, she had not been ready to see Prince again. Not only wasn’t she ready to face him due to all the intense feelings she still had towards him and the way things had ended between them, she also wasn’t ready to face who he had become.
She always knew the Devil’s Fighters would change him; she would have been an idiot to believe otherwise. She always knew that, whenever the day would come that they would meet again, Prince wouldn’t be Prince. But being aware of the possibility of change was one thing; seeing that change with her very eyes was a whole other story.
During the brief exchange they had, Alyssa had tried very hard to catch a glimpse of the Prince Wheeler she used to know. She had tried to find something, anything that would tell her that the guy she had once loved so fiercely was still in there somewhere. But she had found nothing. The only appearance made by Prince’s old self was when he talked about her parents—and even then, it had only been a brief peek, gone in a flash.
Alyssa always knew the Devil’s Fighters would change him, but she had been naïve enough to hope that, even though she couldn’t understand it, the life he had chosen would make him happy. The Prince she had met earlier that afternoon was not happy. Try as she might, Alyssa couldn’t get the shadows on his face and in his eyes out of her mind. They have no business being there, she thought. Prince should be happy, he deserved to be.
Alyssa wondered what had gone so horribly wrong that would cause the man to walk around with constant shadows on his features. She quickly realized that she didn’t really want to know; she was too afraid of the answer.
No matter how hard she tried to relax, Alyssa’s head continued to spin with thoughts all the way to her parents’ house. The short drive seemed to take forever, and by the time she finally pulled up she was ready to either collapse into bed or punch a wall—whichever would come first.
However, it seemed that her endless day was not ready to be over yet. As she got out of the rental car, Alyssa noticed a Harley-Davidson parked in front of the house, right off the porch’s step. She felt a renewed surge of anger. How dare they? How fucking dare they? Why couldn’t they leave her alone?
She strode up to the front porch and, with a courage given to her by emotional exhaustion, she all but roared: “Lenday! Is this you? Where are you?”
A man rounded the corner of the house, and Alyssa’s heart made a somersault in her chest. It wasn’t Lenday.
“You’re lucky it’s me,” Prince said, walking up to her with an easy stride. “Bennie wouldn’t have taken your tone all that well.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass how Bennie would have taken my tone,” Alissa replied. She was in no mood for pleasantries or game. She just wanted to go inside and shut the door on the world. “What were you doing around the house? Looking for ways in?”
Prince arched a chestnut eyebrow. “I’m not a thief, you know? I was taking a piss. I’ve been waiting here for over an hour.”
Alyssa’s eyes widened. “You took a piss in my parents’ backyard?”
“No!” Prince looked shocked. “I peed by the dumpsters in the back alley. What’s wrong with you? I’m not a savage.”
“I have no idea what you are,” Alyssa said sincerely.
Prince sighed heavily. “Here we go again.”
“Yes, here we go again,” Alyssa snapped. “What are you even doing here? What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Anything. Everything. I haven’t seen you in eight years, Aly.”
Alyssa could actually feel her own gaze harden. “Whose fault is that?” She pushed past him, fumbling for the house keys in her purse. “And I told you, don’t call me Aly.”
She thrust the key in the lock as if she was thrusting a sword into an enemy’s belly. She couldn’t help it; she had never, never felt so angry in her whole life.
“Did you ever stop to think that it might have been hard for me, too?”
Alyssa spun around so fast that she almost lost her balance. She just couldn’t believe that those words had actually left his mouth.
“Are you kidding me?” she said, incredulous.
There it went again, that raised eyebrow. She couldn’t decide whether he did that to study her or tease her. Either way, it was infuriating.
“I’m very serious,” he said. “You may not believe this, but I really loved you.”
Alyssa stared at him. “What do you want, Prince?”
“I told you. I want to talk to you. I want to connect with you again, even for one moment.”
She didn’t get it. She didn’t get him. There was something guarded about the way Prince carried himself, like he didn’t trust the world—and perhaps, she thought, he really didn’t. And yet here he was, begging to have an honest conversation with her. Alyssa just couldn’t figure him out, and it unnerved her to no end.
“I spent years trying to forget about ever connecting with you,” she said. “What makes you think I would want to throw all that hard work out the window now?”
She saw him flinch at her harsh words, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He was the one who wanted honesty after all.
“Why do you hate me so much?” he asked quietly.
He looked sad, but Alyssa couldn’t bring herself to care about that either.
“I don’t hate you,” she admitted. Things would be so much easier if I did. She took a deep breath. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’m exhausted. I can’t do this right now.”
“Can you do it tomorrow?”
Alyssa blinked. “What?”
“One breakfast. Like old times.” He offered her a grin. “I’ll bring the coffee.”
“I have coffee,” Alyssa said absently. She was staring at him almost transfixed. Because there he was, the Prince she had known; he had the same shy, sexy grin. Complete with dimples.
“Then, I’ll bring the bagels.”
Alyssa rolled her eyes, and that’s when they both knew he had worn her down.
“Fine,” she finally conceded. “Come over in the morning. But you won’t stay more than one hour.” I couldn’t take it.
Prince nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her on her cheek. Alyssa was so shocked she didn’t even protest. She watched as he climbed on his motorcycle and drove away. She watched as the Devil’s Fighters’ red Satan looked out at her from Prince’s leather-clad black, mocking her.
*****
Alyssa didn’t know what had possessed her. She awoke the next day hoping it had all been just a bizarre dream, but stepping out of her bedroom quickly proved that it was very, very real.
The house was empty, as demonstrated by the all-too silent rooms that she passed on her way downstairs. Her parents were gone, as demonstrated by the insane amount of casseroles that littered the kitchen. Prince was coming over for breakfast, as demonstrated by the text she found waiting on her cell phone when she checked it.
“I’m going to hold you to that breakfast. 8 a.m. sharp. X.”
Alyssa groaned. That text made her uneasy for a number of reasons. First, Prince had never signed himself “X.” in his life, and she thought it was incredibly lame. Second, she had no idea how on Earth he had gotten her number. Third, Prince was coming over for breakfast.
She glanced at the clock on the kitchen’s wall and was relieved to find that it was only 7:15 a.m. That gave her forty-five minutes to prepare.
Thirty minutes later, and with only another fifteen minutes to go, Alyssa was anything but ready. She had showered, and she had the first cup of coffee of the day. She even had an apple to boost her energy. Nothing worked. Nothing cleared her mind enough to prepare her for what she was going to say to him.
What was she going to say to him? How would this work? Could they really just sit down at the kitchen’s table and pick up where they left off?
Alys
sa didn’t think so. She was pretty certain Prince didn’t think so, either; he may have changed, but he sure had not turned into an idiot. He must know that her agreeing to have breakfast together—again, why did she have to go and do that?—didn’t change anything. He must know that she was still furious. He must know that her heart was still broken.
The roar of a motorcycle’s engine approaching took her away from her reverie. Alyssa sighed and got up. Spying from beneath the curtains at the kitchen’s window, she could see him riding his Harley towards her.
She shook her head. Prince used to be afraid of motorcycles. Seeing him riding one was shocking, surreal, and heartbreaking all at the same time. When he pulled up in front of the house, she noticed that he had changed his clothes from the previous day, but that he was still wearing his Devil’s Fighters vest.
His knock came shortly after, and Alyssa had to take a few moments before she could finally bring herself to go and open the door. True to his word, Prince was holding a paper bag from Lynn’s diner.
“Bagels,” he said, holding the bag up for her to see.
Alyssa nodded. “Thank you,” she said awkwardly. “Come on in.”
He followed her back to the kitchen. For a moment, they just stood there, not quite knowing what to do.
“I should probably toast those,” Alyssa finally said.
Prince held out the bag to her, and she set out to the task, grateful to have something to do.
“Did you get some sleep?” Prince asked from behind her, as she busied herself at the kitchen’s counter.
“Amazingly, yes,” Alyssa said. “I guess I was just too exhausted to lay awake in bed.”
“That’s good. At least you got some rest.”
She nodded and turned around, leaning back against the counter as she waited for the toaster to do its job. “You know, you could’ve taken that thing off,” she said, unable to stop herself. “The vest, I mean. I would’ve much rather you had come in civilian clothes.”
“I’m sorry,” Prince said. “I can’t. We have to wear it all the time.”
“Club rule?”
He nodded.
Alyssa arched an eyebrow. “God forbid anyone forgets who the Devils are?”
Prince sighed. “Alyssa, don’t do this. Please.”
Alyssa nodded. “Fine.”
Mercifully, the toaster picked that moment to beep, and for the next few minutes, she busied herself with serving breakfast. It allowed her to avoid his eyes. Eventually, though, they sat across from each other at the table, with cream cheese, bagels, and coffee separating them—along with eight years’ worth of pain and unspoken words.
“Are you happy in Vancouver?” Prince asked out of the blue. He asked it casually, but his eyes were searching.
“Yes,” Alyssa said sincerely, because she was.
Silence descended between them then.
“You’re not going to ask if I’m happy?” Prince asked after a few moments.
Alyssa smiled sadly. “I already know the answer to that question.”
“Really?” Prince challenged her with a small smile. “Do you?”
“I do.” Alyssa really wished she didn’t.
“Tell me, then,” he said. “What’s the answer to that question?”
“You don’t look happy, Prince.”
There. It was that easy, and that hard. Apparently, even after eight years, they still didn’t know how to do small talk—they never had. They always talked about anything and everything, and they always did so honestly, whether they were talking about the latest movie they had seen together or about something intimate. It looked like that one thing had not changed, and Alyssa found herself being glad about it; she didn’t think she could have taken small talk with Prince, of all people, on top of everything else.
On his part, Prince didn’t even try to put on a mask.
“I guess I’m not,” he admitted. “Although I could have it worse.”
“How so?” Alyssa blurted out before she could stop herself.
Prince shrugged. “I could be dead.”
The matter-of-fact way in which he said it chilled Alyssa to the bone.
“That dangerous, huh?” she said, attempting to give a lightness to her voice that she didn’t feel inside.
“Well, it’s no picnic.”
Alyssa sighed. “Why don’t you just run away, Prince?”
Prince stared at her. “I can’t.”
“Why?” she asked in frustration. “Is this really what you want to do with your life?”
Just like that, she was being sucked back in. Just like that, she was back to caring about him in a painful, all-consuming way. She realized right then and there that she had never stopped caring, no matter what lies she had told herself. She didn’t know how to stop. She had never known how to stop.
“It’s not about what I want,” Prince said. “I have obligations.”
“To whom?” Alyssa cried in disbelief. “A bunch of bike-riding criminals?”
“No.”
She shut her mouth then and stared at him. He had spoken quietly, and that quiet had thrown her. She was expecting him to defend his lifestyle fiercely and hotly, but he didn’t. It wasn’t fierceness that was making his eyes even darker than they had been before. It was resignation, the hopeless kind that leaves you with nothing but a dead end.
Alyssa’s stomach clenched in concern and sudden panic. “What do you mean, no?” she asked in a much gentler tone. “Whom do you have obligations to?” She paled as a sudden thought struck her. “Oh my God,” she said, her voice choked. Of course. How could she have been so stupid? Did she really think he had not moved on with his life? “You have someone, don’t you? A woman? Maybe…a child?”
“What?” He looked at her like she had suddenly gone mad. “Do I look like a family man?” He shook his head. “You’ve watched too much Sons of Anarchy, Alyssa. There is no child.” He hesitated. “There is no woman either.”
“Oh.” Alyssa couldn’t have said why, but the news filled her with immense relief. (Or rather, she knew exactly why, but she was never going to admit it.) “Who, then?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Prince said dismissively. “Suffice it to say, I can’t just up and leave.”
“I don’t understand,” Alyssa admitted.
He gave her a sad smile. “I know you don’t. You never understood.”
And just like that, the rage was back. Alyssa glared openly at him. “You couldn’t really have expected me to.”
“It was never about you,” he said. “You took it personally, but—”
“How else was I supposed to take it?” Alyssa said in disbelief. “It was me you turned your back on! And while we’re at it, what about your obligations to me? Didn’t they matter to you?”
She knew she shouldn’t be doing this. This was not the place—and most importantly—this was not the time. It had been eight years ago. There was really no point even bringing it up. Then again, it was their very own elephant in the room and ignoring it would have been impossible.
“They mattered,” Prince said, his voice quiet once again. It seemed like the angrier Alyssa got, the quiet Prince went. “You mattered.”
Alyssa couldn’t help the loud snort that escaped her. “Clearly, I didn’t matter enough.”
He sighed. “Do you really want to do this? After eight years?”
“What, you think that because it happened eight years ago, it doesn’t count anymore?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Prince took a deep breath. “I’m saying, it’s been eight years. Perhaps we would both be better off if we just started from scratch.”
Alyssa looked at him in disbelief. Who was this man? Who was this man who thought that he could knock at her door eight years after shattering her heart and expect it not to matter anymore? Who was this man who did not realize that her heart was still in pieces?
“I’m sorry,” Alyssa sa
id. “It doesn’t work like that.” She really was sorry. She really wished it would work like that.
“Then, how does it work?”
Alyssa sighed. “It doesn’t,” she admitted. She knew that now; it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work. She couldn’t do this; it was too hard. “You should go.”
Prince stared at her. “Why, Alyssa? Why can’t we just—”
“Because we can’t,” Alyssa snapped. Did he really not see it? Could he really be that oblivious? “OK? We just can’t. I can’t. You broke my heart.”
Prince deflated then. He ran a hand tiredly over his face. “Jesus,” he muttered, his voice muffled by his palm. He pulled his hand away and looked at her sadly. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, you did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care.” Alyssa wasn’t even angry anymore. She was exhausted and frustrated, and she just wanted him to get out of her life again—and stay out this time. “It’s still broken, you know?” she said. She had no idea why she was saying that to him. Perhaps she was just too tired to muster up the strength to cover any of her emotions; perhaps she was just too tired of hiding the truth—from the world as well as from herself. “I don’t think I ever really got over you.”
Prince looked crestfallen. “Oh, Alyssa—”
“Please.” Alyssa held up a hand to stop him. She didn’t want to hear it; she’d heard enough. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want your pity. I just want you gone.”
“Is that really what you want?”
It wasn’t. Alyssa wanted to reconnect, too. She wanted for him to touch her. She wanted for him to kiss her. She wanted for him to tell her he loved her, and she wanted for him to mean it. But she knew that was a slippery slope, and she wasn’t willing to fall ever again.
So she said: “It is.” Even though she didn’t really mean it.
Prince nodded. He stood slowly, like every movement was painful.
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