by Marci Fawn
It’s not just the prince who got wed in secret, with the runaway bride. It’s Faith and me, and despite what people seem to think about us, I know what we shared is real.
This becomes even worse when someone gets hold of our wedding photos, and the first image that I see of my wife and me are in the newspaper.
I spend that day a total and utter wreck, sobbing and screaming on and off all day long. She’s mine, my wife, and I do not understand why she just wouldn’t be there anymore, and it makes no sense.
That being said, the evidence is stacking up against me, and I’m starting to feel like Faith might have left me by choice, and that I’ll never get to see her again.
I don’t think it’s as simple as that, I really don’t think that she just left – especially as there can be no reason for it since she’s got absolutely nothing from me, not even on penny – but I don’t know what it is, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever find out.
The police have helped me as much as they can, but there is only so much that they can do with absolutely no evidence of any crime whatsoever, and with the media getting crazier every single day, it feels like my time in Greece might be coming to an end.
I don’t want to leave, I really don’t, because it feels like giving up, like I’m accepting that my wife really is gone forever, but I don’t know what other choice I have.
Mother is getting on my back more and more with each passing day anyway, she wants me back under control where she can keep an eye on me. Even though she found out about the wedding a few days ago, she hasn’t calmed down one bit and I know that she’s hoping I won’t do anything as silly ever again.
“Oh God,” I mutter to myself, staring out of the window of our apartment, just waiting for the car to come along and pick me up to take me to the airport.
“Where are you Faith? What happened to you?”
And the fact that it feels like I’ll never get the answers to these questions is going to be the hardest thing to move on from.
7
Faith
I sit in the economy seat of the plane ride back to America, wondering what the hell it is that I’m doing. My head is all over the place, and I cannot decide if I’ve made the right decision or not by running away.
I know that there are so many things that I should have done differently. But it’s too late now. I didn’t feel like I was left with any other choice anyway.
I just have to hope that Edward recovers from this quickly, and that he moves on with his life. When I’m safely back home I won’t see too much of it anyway, unless I specifically go looking online which I’ll have to try not to do, so I’m sure that it’ll be fine.
It might be crazy, but Edward will be so much better off without me, and he deserves to have everything that his life is supposed to be.
If he stays with me, he runs the risk of losing all that he is heir to, and I really don’t want to be responsible for that.
I know that I really should have thought about that before we got married, but I was far too swept up in the romance of it all to be smart. It was a mistake, and I just hope that it isn’t one that ruins our lives forever.
I don’t want him to ever look at me with resentment in his eyes, and I know that if I stay, one day I’ll have to. There’s no way that he can go through his entire life without wanting some of the things that he gave up.
There’s no way that we can go through the normal trials and tribulations of life without him hating me for what I made him sacrifice.
At least, this is the mantra that I keep repeating to myself over and over again, trying to convince myself that everything will be okay in the long run, but that doesn’t stop the tears from pouring down my face, and the black sadness from consuming me.
As the plane crosses the ocean, and it takes me back to the life that I once had, I feel my mood sink lower and lower until I wonder if I can ever be happy again.
I end up back at my parent’s home, having nowhere else to go, which of course doesn’t help me cheer up at all. My family drives me mad, interfering in ways that I never expected them to, and I start to miss the life that I could have had, but I don’t want to focus on it too much.
I’m trying to build myself a better future. There’s no point in dwelling on something that might have been, when it’ll never be again.
I’ve been trying to get a job, but after applying for everything that even slightly interests me and that my education relates to, but I’ve ended up in the kitchen of the fast food restaurant around the corner from where I live.
Flipping burgers and dealing with a family that I have nothing in common with is torture, but that isn’t the worst of it. My misery is so bad that it’s actually making me sick. I’m constantly hot, dizzy, and very nauseous. It’s making my job very challenging, and even harder to get on with.
It isn’t until I’m throwing up for the fifth day in a row, that one snarky comment gets me thinking.
“God you puking again?” One of the bitchy teenage girls who always chews gum snaps at me.
“You must be knocked up or something… either that or you’re seriously ill.”
My heart falls down into my shoes, so much so that I can’t even begin to form a normal reaction. If I was thinking straight, I would have tried to laugh it off or something, but I don’t. I just stand there like an idiot, opening and closing my mouth like a fish.
Luckily, none of the other girls pay any attention to me, they are already onto the next subject, but my mind is still reeling.
Sure, Edward and I didn’t manage to have sex on our wedding night, but we did in Paris, and that was about four months ago now. If that was the case, then chances are I would be starting to realize by now.
The problems is I am showing signs, I just haven’t thought of them as that.
“I… I have to go…” I announce breathlessly to the shift manager.
“I’ve been sick; I think it’s a virus.” I announce, knowing that will buy me some time.
We have to take two days off for sickness, so if I do find out the truth, and it is what I suspect, then at least I’ll be able to at least try and adjust to it.
Can I really be pregnant?
What the hell will I do if I am?
I think about Edward’s face, wishing that I could tell him, but of course, I can’t. I’ve cut off all contact, blocked all of his ways of contacting me, and I’ve flatly refused to look him up online – however hard that’s been. I’ve forced us both to move on, and I cannot go back on that now.
Oh my God, Oh my God, oh my God.
My mind is everywhere as I stagger down the street, trying desperately to hold it together while I get to the pharmacy.
I need a pregnancy test now, even if it’s just to rule out the possibility. I won’t be able to think until I’ve done it. I’m petrified, but I need to know. Even my fear won’t hold me back from finding out the truth.
I pick up the pregnancy test and a few other random items just for show before quickly heading to the counter. The man charges me for my purchases, and I race from the shop not wanting to be in the public for another second longer.
I feel like I’m a zombie, and I need to get away from people before someone realizes the truth about me.
But I quickly realize that I can’t go home to do this test. I don’t want to be in the eye of people who already disapprove of me when I discover this news, so I find the nearest public toilets and I scurry in there. It isn’t an ideal situation, but I don’t see what other choice I have.
Once inside the cold, slightly dirty environment that has to be the most unfriendly in the entire planet, I scan my eyes over the instructions, trying desperately to make something go in, but nothing is.
Keep the color changing tip facing downwards.
Hormone Chorionic Gonadrophic.
Determine the gestational age.
It’s all Spanish to me, and it’s making me crazy.
“Oh God,” I mutter to myself.
“Just pee on the damn stick, everyone knows that’s what you do.”
So with a trembling hand I do what needs to be done. I feel a little like I’m having an out of body experience, and it takes all that I have to keep myself breathing.
In… out… in… out….
Tick, tick, tick.
I feel like the minute waiting for the result to show itself is the longest of my entire life. My heart races, my emotions flood all over my body, and I can’t even pace because there isn’t enough room in this damn cubicle. I’m locked in a crazy box, and I’m scared for my entire life.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I pant, hoping that I’m alone in these public toilets.
If someone else is in here, then they probably think that I’m a crazy person…
“Oh shit.”
There it is. The blue cross that can only mean one thing.
Positive.
I’m pregnant.
The dizziness starts to consume me and I start to feel my body slumping towards the ground, and everything goes black…
The pregnancy hasn’t been the easiest in the world, but I’ve got through it by myself.
I had to move out the second I told my parents, but luckily because they were so desperate to get rid of me and the shame that I brought upon the family (and they don’t even know about the wedding yet!) they gave me the money that I needed to get myself started.
I don’t have the best place to live in the world – it’s a tiny apartment in one of the rougher areas of town – but it’s mine, and that’s all that matters. I’m getting through this, even if it is difficult, and I have to proud of myself for that.
Of course there have been numerous times that I’ve wanted to tell Edward about our baby, especially when I was in the hospital having the scans and my appointments, but I can’t.
I made my choice and now I have to stick to it. I cannot go back now with this news after leaving in the way I did. I wonder all the time how his life is doing, but I don’t look him up. I almost don’t want to know, just in case it breaks my heart all over again. I’m sort of doing okay now, and I don’t want to ruin that.
Of course, I’m not really doing all right, but I have a brave face on for the rest of the world, so at least others can assume that I’m surviving. I don’t break down until I’m alone, which feels like a huge step in the right direction for me.
I kept my job at the fast food restaurant for as long as I could throughout the pregnancy, but as my bump became too huge I had to quit because I was a health and safety risk, so I’ve spent the rest of the time just waiting for my due date to arrive.
It finally happens just as I’m setting up the best nursery that I can afford, which isn’t amazing but it has all the essentials that my baby is going to need.
It’s all in gorgeous whites and yellows because I’m not sure of the gender of my unborn child yet, and I’m proud of it because I’ve done it all by myself – even as much as building the crib.
As my waters break and I yell out in agony as a contraction racks through my body, I grab my phone as quickly as I can to dial an ambulance. I need someone to take me to a hospital right away before I lose my freaking mind…
Eight hours later, I find myself holding the most beautiful bundle of joy that I ever could have imagined. The intense rush of love that crashed over me the second that my baby girl was placed in my arms hasn’t subsided even slightly.
I’ve never felt anything like it before – if I thought that I ever loved anyone before then I was wrong. It’s never been anything like this – it’s unconditional, powerful, and it’s already changed everything about me.
“Do we have a name for her yet?” The midwife asks me carefully.
She sort of knows a little about my situation, and she’s been very delicate about it. I haven’t told her who Edward is, but I’ve told her that my baby’s daddy is no longer in the picture and that I’ve done everything completely by myself.
“Lily,” I reply happily, with shining happiness in my eyes.
I remember the flowers that Edward gave me at our wedding, and although I will never be able to feel that happiness with him again, it’s nice to just have some memory with him. I want our daughter to have a link to her dad, even if she’ll never see him.
I snuggle into Lily, wishing that I could share this moment with her father, but glad that I’m having it all the same.
“Well Lily,” I whisper to her.
“It looks like it’s just you and me against the world now, baby girl.”
I decide to take her gurgling reply as an agreement to what I’ve just suggested.
8
Edward
7 years later
The years that have passed have been very sad and very lonely.
After the aftermath of my very short-lived wedding passed me by, and the media lost interest in me, my life returned to an even worse version than what it was before.
Mother has controlled my each and every move, and it’s been absolute hell. Even Marcus can no longer help me – he keeps his distance these days, and just does as he’s told.
Mother now has him, which makes me feel lonelier than anything else. I now have no one, not one single person to support me, and that feels horrible.
It’s taken me almost seven years, but I’ve finally managed to catch a break again and get a few days off from my royal duties.
I know that I shouldn’t be wasting my time in America, but that’s the only place that I feel I can be. Just in case. I know that it’s pathetic, but I can’t help myself, I haven’t managed to get over Faith and I really don’t think I ever will.
Even though she left me with no explanation, and I haven’t been able to speak to her since, I still love her. No one else even comes close in my mind, and without any closure to this situation, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to recover.
As I wander through yet another historical museum, keeping half an eye out in case she’s there, I feel as morose as ever. I have felt like there is a black cloud hanging over me for the last few years, and I’m not sure that it’s ever going anywhere.
A flash of blonde hair catches my eyes, but I don’t allow my heart to get too excited.
There are so many blonde women out there, that if I get wound up by each and every one then I’ll end up a hot mess.
But there’s something a little different about this one, something that keeps my attention that little while longer, and I can’t stop my eyes from flicking back…
“Oh my God,” the words burst from my lips before I can get hold of myself.
“Faith?”
As she spins around, I start to tremble with a weird sense of déjà vu. This isn’t just my imagination, this is real, somehow I’m actually standing right in front of her.
It’s like a dream – and a nightmare come true – and I’m just standing there staring like an idiot.
“Is that really you?” I gasp, wanting to step closer, but it feels like my entire body is frozen in ice.
She looks just as stunned as me, her eyes flickering everywhere and her face heating up in humiliation.
I can tell that she has no idea what to do with herself, and I feel exactly the same way.
The rest of the world melts away, almost to the point that there’s no one else there, only Faith and me left. We’re stuck in this bubble and there’s no escape – not that I want to go.
There are so many questions flowing through me, and I really want to ask them, but my mouth is zipped shut, unable to consider speaking.
What happened?
Why did you leave me?
Do you still love me?
But then my eyes scan down her body, and I quickly see a mini Faith holding her hand.
A young girl with the same shock of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. My heart flutters sadly at the prospect that her life has moved on somewhat, but at the same time she’s here alone with no man, which means that there might be a chance for me after all.
I don’t want to get so hopeful, to think that way, but I can’t stop my brain from automatically jumping to that conclusion. I wish that I could be totally cool and collected, seeing her as only a woman that I once knew, but my heart is pounding too painfully to even begin to think straight.
Maybe we can be together once more…
And if not, at least I’ll get the answers that I so desperately need to move on with my life. Until I have them, my life will remain in this weird limbo that it has been.
Sure, I’m hoping that things will go in the way that I want them, but I need to prepare myself just in case they don’t.
“Edward?” She eventually responds, tentatively stepping closer to me.
I feel all of the years that have passed us by shrinking into nothing. All the hurt and the pain just melts away, as she’s back in my life once more. The nearer to me she gets, the more connected to her I feel all over again.
A million and one thoughts spin through my mind, but I don’t vocalize any of them. I’m too shocked, too stunned and confused to say any of them.
I’m still just standing here like a dazed and confused mess, wishing desperately that I’d planned a speech or something for this moment. I’ve been praying for it, but never actually believing that it would happen, so I’m completely unprepared.
“Can I talk to you?” I ask desperately, not wanting to give her the chance to get away from me.
I’ve waited so long for this moment; I don’t want to let it slip through my fingers now that it’s here. I can’t lose her again, not now, it might just kill me.
“Can we grab a cuppa?”
She starts to shift from foot to foot, looking incredibly uncomfortable which intrigues me even further. It feels like she’s hiding something from me, and I really want to know what it is. It’s connected to me, I’m sure of it, and I need to know what it is.
“What do you want to talk about?” She asks cautiously.
