She moved towards the door, her gaze focused on the dark corridor behind him. The media would camp outside her Brighton apartment. ‘I need to call my dad.’
His hand reached out as she neared him. ‘It’s five in the morning.’
She pulled her arm away so that he couldn’t touch her. ‘I can slip out of Monrosa before everyone wakes. We can go to my Aunt Nina’s house—it’s in the middle of nowhere. The media will have a hard time tracking me down there.’
His hand shot further out, blocking her from leaving the room. ‘Hold on. Why would you go and stay with your aunt?’
Remain dignified. Don’t cry, don’t plead. Don’t think you can change his mind. Don’t do any of the things that stripped Dad of his pride and self-worth.
‘You can say I’m ill...or whatever excuse you want to use for me not attending the enthronement. I’m guessing there’s nothing your father can do once you’ve acceded to the throne.’
Edwin stood squarely in front of her. Pale and horrified. ‘You’re leaving?’
She winced at the distress in his whisper, her threatening tears turning to ones of pure confusion and anger. ‘Isn’t that what you want?’
He stepped back, and then strode into the room, raking a hand through his hair. ‘Of course I don’t want you to leave. Dio, Kara!’ His voice was rising all of the time, his horror replaced by dismay. ‘I have told you time and time again that I would never want to separate from you. Why won’t you believe me?’
‘Why won’t I believe you? Oh, give me a break, Edwin. We both know you’re only in this marriage to succeed to the throne.’ She threw her hands up into the air.
Stop it. You said you wanted to leave with dignity.
Well, I don’t care now. I want to lash out. I want to be angry. I’m so fed up with pretending and being nice. I’m too upset and heartbroken to shut up.
‘We both know it makes you deeply uncomfortable—we barely speak, you can’t bear to look at me and at night you turn your back on me.’
Turning away, she ran into their bedroom and then into her dressing room next to it. She flung back the sliding door of the wardrobe where her weekend bag was stored, wincing at the sight of her wedding dress, which was being stored there temporarily. The national museum wanted it for a special display to celebrate their wedding. They wouldn’t now.
‘It’s not the marriage that’s the problem, it’s me.’
The bitterest, most cynical laugh she had ever made erupted from deep inside of her. She whirled around to face him. ‘Oh, please—not the It’s not you, it’s me line.’
Why was he looking so upset? He had no right to be. She grabbed some T-shirts and bundled them into her weekend bag, burning humiliation torching her skin. She was failing everyone. Failing the charity. Failing Michael’s memory. Failing all of the people who relied on the charity. Failing everyone who had come to their wedding in good faith.
‘I never wanted to fall in love with you.’
Her hand stalled where she had grabbed a pile of underwear. The white, pastel, bright red and pink colours of her underwear blurred together. He had never seen her wear any of them. How many wives could say that of their husband? She closed her eyes. Pushed down on the hope that stirred somewhere deep in her stomach, disappointment making her feel faint and nauseous. She placed a hand on the frame of the wardrobe to steady herself, reality and memories fortifying her. ‘I’m sorry to tell you that I’m well versed in I love you being used as a get-out-of-jail-free card. It was a speciality of Nick’s any time I tried to break up with him. He would suddenly transform from being indifferently cruel to being the most loving and thoughtful boyfriend a girl could wish for. He was a master of manipulation. What had you expected, that you would waltz in here this morning and we would have a nice little chat about being honest and I would just say okay and agree to staying in a marriage that was destroying me?’
* * *
White noise crowded his head. Panic crawled beneath his skin. Why did it physically hurt so much to talk, to express everything that was swarming inside of him?
Making an angry sound, Kara hurled some underwear into her suitcase, the light cotton landing like confetti. Then, yanking at her hand, she shoved her engagement ring towards him. ‘Here.’
Dio! She really was serious about leaving.
‘No...it’s yours.’
The brilliance of the blue stone caught in the sharp light of the recessed lighting. He had spent hours working with Alberto Enciso, the head designer at the royal jewellers, Frechilla & Rouet, designing the ring and picking the exact shade of stone to match Kara’s eyes.
‘It will never belong to anyone else.’
Her mouth tightened, her eyes blazed with disdain. ‘Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten that it would never be part of the royal collection. A fake ring for a fake marriage.’
‘It’s an eight-carat sapphire! There’s nothing fake about it.’
Her nose wrinkled, her mouth twisted. ‘That’s not what I meant. My point is it’s not from the royal collection.’
Lost, he stared down at the ring she was still thrusting towards him. Her hand was shaking, her fingertips white where she was grasping the ring. He had thought his choice of ring would symbolise to Kara his desire to create something unique just for her. Instead she had clearly seen it as a form of rebuttal. Dio, he had got so many things wrong. ‘Why did you refuse to wear jewellery from the royal collection?’
Her nose wrinkled even more, her cheeks grew hot. ‘Because I thought you wouldn’t want me to.’
Aghast, he leant against the door frame, ran a hand against the screaming tightness in his temples. ‘You don’t believe that I see you as part of this family now, do you?’ It was as much a question to her as a realisation to him.
Her bottom lip trembled for a split second before she whipped around and tugged open another drawer in her wardrobe. This time, sweaters in her favourite colours of cobalt blue, bright red and pure black hit the suitcase.
He was so tired of living a lie. Tired of being terrified of losing her. So tired of being terrified by emotional intimacy because of the potential pain of growing close to a person and losing them. So tired of closing his heart, of hiding himself from her in fear of appearing foolish, of failing in his promise to protect her.
He opened his mouth, a hot sensation running through his body. ‘I have things I need to say to you,’ he paused, lost for words, ‘things about me and my life I’ve never shared with you before. Or with anyone else.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘You see, that’s the problem—there hasn’t really been anyone else in my life except you for the past decade. You have been the star around which my life has revolved.’
She turned with a sneer, folding her arms.
She wasn’t buying it. And he couldn’t blame her. Not after Nick’s games. And especially given just how closed he had been with her throughout their friendship and especially since they had made love.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and scared he was going to get this wrong. ‘I swear I’m not trying to manipulate you. I’ve been living a lie for so long, and I’m tired of it.’
She made an impatient sound before brushing past him. Out in the bedroom she pulled back the curtains to the early morning sky and went and sat on the sofa in the sitting area. She crossed one leg over the other, her dressing gown parting to reveal her thigh. Seeing his gaze, she tugged the material back in place. Folded her arms and waited for him to speak with a cynical eyebrow raised.
He sat beside her but after a few seconds stood again, needing to move.
He paced the room, his shoulders on fire from tension. He rolled them but found no relief. His skin burnt. He came to a stop, forcing himself to sit and talk to her at the same level, eye to eye, even though he felt sick with the thought of having to open himself up to her. ‘I’m in love with you. Not as a friend. As your husband.’
He glanced at their bed, his chest tightening. ‘The night we made love...’ He paused, the horror, the slamming disappointment of her words the following morning, coming back to him. He cleared his throat. ‘I thought we spoke then, not in words but in our lovemaking. But the day after, you said it was a mistake.’
Kara shifted forward in her seat, her arms dropping to her sides. Stared at him.
Dio, she had seen his tears.
He wanted the ground to swallow him up.
‘Edwin.’ She said his name as a sigh. She ran a hand down her cheek, closing her eyes for long moments before opening them again. ‘It was a mistake because it shifted my love for you from being a friend to being your wife.’ She sighed deeply, shook her head. ‘I don’t know why I’m saying these things, but I get it when you say you’re tired of lying. So am I.’
What was she saying? Was she saying she was in love with him? He worked his jaw, the adrenaline of panic sending his pulse into a frenzy. He opened his mouth, closed it again.
Dammit, just ask her.
‘Are you saying you love me?’
Her hand, trembling, moved against her mouth, her cheeks flaming. ‘I’m in love with you...’ his heart soared, but crashed to the floor at the pain etched in her eyes ‘...but I can’t stay in this marriage.’
‘Why...if you love me and I love you?’
‘But they’re just words. I love you, Edwin. I love your honour, your sense of duty, your drive to do the best for your country, your inherent decency. But I’m lonely. I’m lonelier in our marriage than I have ever been in my entire life. You feel so distant from me.’ A large tear dropped along her cheek, and she gave an unhappy laugh. ‘I swore I wouldn’t do this. I can’t live in a marriage where I don’t feel safe, and I don’t feel safe with you because you shut me out.’
Her words cut him in two, their honesty searing his heart. His throat was on fire. It felt like a monumental task to even open his mouth to speak. Years of silence and denial had made him psychologically mute. But he had to speak. Or else he was going to lose her. ‘I’m terrified of losing you, but the crazy thing is I shut you out because I’m scared of the pain that would come if I did lose you—it’s this crazy circle of avoidance that feeds itself and it’s out of control.’
Her hand trailed over the soft lace edges of her dressing gown. ‘You won’t lose me.’
He smiled at that. ‘You were just packing your bags.’
She gave a guilty smile. ‘I was running away, embarrassed by my feelings for you. I wasn’t really thinking, but deep down I was hoping we’d stay friends...that maybe with time and a small miracle we’d be able to go back to where we were.’
He held her gaze. The blue-eyed gaze that had spat fire all those years ago when he had plucked her off a muddy pitch. ‘I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be your husband. And not just in name.’
* * *
Such beautiful words. Words that could turn a world upside down. But meaningless if they weren’t backed up by action and truth and real connection. Her parents’ marriage had been destroyed by a lack of truth and connection.
If their marriage had any hope of surviving then they both needed to speak the truth, expose what was really in their hearts. She felt faint and, no matter how hard she tried to breathe in, she wasn’t capable of dragging in enough air to feed the panic pushing her heart to near exploding point. ‘I’m in love with you, but relationships, marriage, terrify me.’ She wanted to stop but knew she needed to continue and blurted out without drawing breath, ‘Losing Michael, my parents’ marriage imploding, my relationship with Nick have all made me wary of trusting that people will be there, will be truthful and honest with me. And so far in our marriage it doesn’t feel like we’ve had any of that.’
Grimacing, Edwin shifted his gaze away from her. He bowed his head. Studied his clasped hands. A long silence followed. Her heart raged in her chest. He was doing it again, closing down on her. She wanted to weep with frustration. He had spoken his oath to her, saying he wanted to be honest with her. And yet he kept shutting her out, as though he didn’t trust himself, or simply want, to fully open his heart to her.
‘I learned at a very young age that I have to present a mask to the world. When my mother died I was scared and angry, I wanted to rebel, to walk away from everything. But how could I? I was the heir to the throne, the oldest son. I had to be responsible. I had to be the one who remained in control while Luis went crazy and Ivo went silent.’ He clasped and unclasped his hands, tension radiating from him. ‘And the mask I had learned to pull on when in public soon became a private mask too.’ He cleared his throat and stared unseeingly at a point beyond her shoulder. ‘I used to think I could hear her footsteps outside my bedroom door. I was certain I caught glimpses of her walking around corners of the palace. I thought I was going crazy. I felt so weak. I could barely function. Princess Maria tried to help me, but I couldn’t bear to talk. I was afraid that if I did start talking everything I was holding in would spiral out of control.’
Her heart broke to hear his bewildered pain. He looked at her and inhaled a long, deep breath full of remorse. ‘With Michael, I should have helped him. I should have been a better friend but I was so closed to my own emotions I just panicked. I didn’t know how to help him.’
A tight band squeezed her chest. ‘You did help. You spoke to the university authorities and my parents.’
He shrugged away her comment.
Her stomach churned and her throat was raw. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands.
Ask him! For God’s sake, ask him!
‘Was it because of Michael that you stayed friends with me?’
Those golden eyes burnt into hers. ‘No, you had already got under my skin.’
Her heart tumbled, emotion clogged her throat. She dipped her head to meet his gaze and whispered, ‘We all feel guilt. We all wish we could have done more for him. I don’t think that regret will ever leave us.’ She paused, struggling to find the right words. ‘You haven’t been the only one hiding. I have too. I’ve been hiding even from myself.’
His hand reached out to rest on the cushion between them. ‘What do you mean?’
‘For far too long I’ve been too terrified to accept my feelings for you because I thought it would destroy our friendship. I was too proud to be honest about my feelings because I never wanted to be humiliated. I guess I need to learn from that. And the best way we can honour Michael is by trying to lead truthful lives ourselves, where we don’t hide our pain.’
‘Losing my mother, witnessing Ivo’s pain, the way my family has floundered ever since...shutting down was the easiest way to cope.’
She nodded in understanding. ‘Before our engagement, I thought I was okay with the fact that you were so private and closed off. It suited me that we had distance between us. But being married, being around you all of the time, the intimacy of it all, that distance went from being okay to just being very alone and uncertain and insecure.’
He shifted closer to her, those golden eyes searing into hers. He was only inches away from her, both of their heads bowed as though in confession. ‘Do you believe me when I say I love you?’
‘I don’t know... It’s so strange to hear you saying you love me after all these years,’ she whispered back.
He moved even closer, his mouth close to her ear. ‘But it feels completely natural for me to say it. I love you. I love you, Kara Duffy, with your sexy laugh and glittering blue eyes. I love that you always try to beat me to the peak of every mountain we climb. I love your chatter all the way up and down that mountain. I love you for your optimism and humour and imagination. I love that you treat me like a normal human being, never pandering to me.’
She tilted her head, dizzy with the intimacy of his whispers, dizzy with the desire to believe him.
>
His hand touched against the silk material covering her leg. She pulled away from him, doubts suddenly crowding in.
* * *
He moved back towards her, a quiet determination in his eyes. ‘When we slept together, it was the most right and real night of my life.’ His voice was low, tender. She wanted to weep in relief. ‘There was a truthfulness and honesty there that I desperately wanted to ignore, desperately wanted to pretend I didn’t crave. That’s why, despite it feeling like a kick in the teeth, I tried to pretend to myself that I agreed with you that it was all a mistake, when in fact it felt like the best thing that would ever happen in my life.’
‘Are you really saying all of this because you love me—or is it due to the enthronement?’
He studied her with a quiet determination. ‘I won’t succeed to the throne in order to prove to you my love. Princess Maria can succeed instead.’
She leapt out of her chair, her mouth working like a goldfish’s before she finally managed to spit out, ‘You’re kidding me. You’re not about to give up the throne, the role you were born for.’
Edwin shrugged, his expression deadly serious. ‘I want you in my life. I want to be your husband. I want to spend every single day proving to you just how much I love you.’ His voice cracked. Pinched lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. ‘I will walk away from the crown to prove that to you.’ Taking his phone from his pocket, he added, ‘I can call my father now and tell him of my decision.’
‘No!’ She took the phone from him, threw it onto their bed. Faced him and said in low voice, ‘You do love me.’ She whispered those words as much for herself as him. Needing to hear the most amazing realisation of her life out loud.
His expression transformed into gentle delight and tenderness.
She blinked and said, ‘Love is pretty terrifying, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, that’s why I think we should ease into this.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
Best Friend to Princess Bride Page 16
