But he didn’t. And she blurted out, ‘Don’t be ridiculous, of course you don’t love me.’
His head jerked. As though she had slapped him. ‘Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?’
Panic had her ask, ‘Have you been drinking?’
He sat back in his chair, his expression turning to granite. ‘No.’
Alice jumped off the bed. She paced the room, trying not to give in to the temptation of opening the bedroom door and bolting. ‘You don’t love me, Luis...’ She waved vaguely between them, attempted a smile. ‘What we have is lust and chemistry.’
She waited for him to smile back and agree. She waited for him to make this simple and uncomplicated. Why couldn’t they just sleep together like other people? Why couldn’t they just revel in the physical, the passion of deep attraction?
But instead, his expression proud, he asked quietly, ‘Why don’t you believe me?’
She threw her hands into the air. ‘Why don’t I believe you? Because you don’t really mean it. You can’t. You’re telling me that you love me and want to be in a relationship despite having previously told me that you wanted to remain single.’ She paused, and looked at him for long seconds, wondering if she knew him at all. ‘Or am I giving too much significance to that word love? Perhaps you use it easily. Perhaps you have said it to every woman you have slept with.’
He walked to her bedroom window. She hadn’t pulled the curtains and had opened the window, wanting to sleep to the sound of the nearby sea. He stared out into the darkness for a moment before turning and regarding her, his expression still as hard as stone. And she was reminded that he was descended from proud warrior kings. ‘You are the first woman I have ever said those words to.’
She closed her eyes, trying to take a hold of the hot panic running through her. Love was fickle and manipulative. She had had a childhood of witnessing how it could be turned on you, how your love could be used as a weapon to destroy you. She opened her eyes. ‘You don’t love me. You’re looking for something to take the place of the career and life you’re leaving. You’re looking for something that will take the sting of returning to Monrosa away. You’re looking for a new distraction. And that distraction just happens to be me.’
* * *
White noise crowded Luis’s head.
She doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t believe me.
‘Do you trust in anything that I say?’
She folded her arms, her expression shut off. ‘Now... I’m not sure.’
His throat tightened. He should walk away. While he still had some dignity. But questions burned inside of him. ‘What has the past week been to you...has it meant anything?’
She backed away. ‘This is too much. I thought we were friends; I don’t know how to cope with this.’
‘Is that all you thought we had—friendship?’ He stalked the room, adrenaline pounding through him.
She rounded on him. ‘What do you want me to say?’ She gestured vaguely between them. ‘Why are you rushing this...why are you rushing me? Why are you backing me into a corner?’
He had to get out. Now. Before he said anything else. Shame was creeping along his veins, shutting down his capacity to think. ‘Forget that I said anything.’
She dropped her hands. ‘Oh, Luis, why did you have—?’
He cut across her. ‘You’re leaving tomorrow?’
He didn’t know himself if that was a question or a statement.
She looked at him with a helpless expression. ‘That’s what was planned.’
He nodded. ‘It’s for the best.’ It felt as though he was watching himself from a distance. The pain inside of him shutting down everything but a forceful need to protect himself.
* * *
Alice watched Luis walk to the door, place his hand on the door handle.
Go. Give me some space.
She wanted to crawl into bed and hide under the bedclothes the way she had used to as a child to drown out her parents’ arguments. She longed for a dark, warm space where she wasn’t under attack. She wanted to curl herself into a tight ball and hum. Calm the panic that was crowding her head.
His hand twisted the handle.
No! Don’t go. I’m sorry. I believe you. But am I crazy to even think that? I want to believe that you do love me. I want to trust you. I want to trust myself... I think I’ve fallen in love with you too. But is all this misguided, so full of misjudgement and crossed purposes, all so rushed and forced that we’ll only hurt one another?
He opened the door. Looked back in her direction. As though waiting for her to say something. But no words would come to her. She was frozen by indecision and the fear that she was being used and manipulated.
He closed the door, his expression rigid. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. What had she done?
CHAPTER TEN
THE WINE BAR door opened, letting in a blast of icy air. Alice craned to see if it was Toni but let out a disappointed breath when she saw that it was a group of office workers. She checked her phone. Nothing. She settled back into her seat, still pretending to be checking for messages and not unintentionally listening in to the conversations of the couples seated either side of her. She sipped her coffee. And tried to process the fact that she had done it. She had submitted her thesis that very afternoon. She still had the last hurdle of the PhD defence presentation to face in a few months’ time, but for now she was going to celebrate.
Her phone pinged.
A message from Toni appeared on the screen. She was still in London. She had missed her flight to Dublin. Concerned, Alice typed back a message, asking if everything was okay. Toni messaged back saying that she was stuck in work and couldn’t talk but that she was so sorry to let her down.
Leaving the bar, Alice shivered at the biting wind. She had managed to lose her new red hat somewhere in the university and her coat was no defence against the arctic cold sweeping through the streets of Dublin.
A celebration party in honour of Luis’s championship win was taking place right now. Alice ducked her head down, fighting to walk into the unrelenting wind. Had it been sunny in Monrosa today? Would they still have daylight? Kara had sent her an invite. She had been taken aback by just how happy she had been that Luis’s win was being celebrated in Monrosa...and how desperately sad she was that she wouldn’t be there. For a few hours she had contemplated accepting the invite but in the end she had messaged her apologies to Kara, not wanting to take away from the day for Luis...and not sure she could handle seeing him again.
She missed him. Despite having buried herself in her PhD for every waking moment, she missed him with every fibre of her being. She missed his smiles, the way he stirred her tea. She missed catching him regarding her with what seemed like open affection and fondness. She missed the feel of his hand cradling the back of her head when he hugged her. Was that what being in love meant? Missing the other person so deeply you felt as though you had lost yourself? Waking in the middle of the night thinking you heard their voice whispering something to you? She didn’t know what love was. Her dad had said he loved her mum. And she had so desperately wanted to believe him. She had wanted to believe that things would get better, that they could be a family. But her dad had used their love and turned it on them, crushing their hopes and dreams. What if Luis really did love her, for now, but what if that changed? What if he stopped loving her? What if he left her with all the scars of panic and zero self-esteem that her mum was still battling?
The entrance door to her apartment block was sticking again and it took her ages to force it open. Inside she gathered up a scattering of mail, which one of her fellow apartment-block dwellers had clearly stepped on, given the boot-shaped imprint that was across some of the envelopes.
She spotted his envelope immediately. It wasn’t hard. The heavy cream paper was in stark contrast to the cheap white envelopes from various bank
s and telecom companies.
She studied the handwriting, the same large, looping letters that she had first seen on the gift card attached to his Christmas present to her. Would she ever find peace? Would her life ever stop feeling so empty? One day, would she learn to face the future with enthusiasm again? Would colour replace the now constant greyness?
Her studio apartment was like an icebox. She checked her boiler and as she suspected the water pressure had dropped again and it was out of action. She topped it up, knowing she should contact her landlord to complain but she didn’t have the energy.
Coat still on, she opened the fridge and shut it. From upstairs came footsteps and muffled music and laughter. The girls who shared the apartment were getting ready for a night out. There went her night’s sleep.
She contemplated ringing her mum for a chat but instead switched on a side lamp, flicked off all the other lights in the room and collapsed onto her bed.
When would the feeling of numbness leave her? It was six weeks since she had last seen Luis and it felt as though she was living life in a daze. She had somehow miraculously managed to finish her thesis and not get fired from her job, but it felt as though she was sleepwalking through life.
She missed him. It felt as if a part of her was missing. She missed his touches, his laughter, his teasing, his energy, his kindness. But had all those things been real? Had they all been an act, a way of distracting him from his own life? She rolled onto her side, curling her legs up. Had he been using her...perhaps not even consciously? Maybe he had somehow misguidedly convinced himself that he loved her...but that wouldn’t have stopped him from breaking her heart at some point.
Her eyes settled on the pile of cream envelopes peeking out from the top of her kitchen cupboards. She should put the newest one up there...but that meant dragging out a chair to reach the top. The reason why she had stashed them there in the first place was that if they were easy to get to then in a moment of weakness she would succumb to reading them.
What was she going to do with them? She had said she would decide once she had submitted her thesis. Including today’s letter there were seven letters in total. If she binned them, she could move on with her life. She closed her eyes. But would she always be haunted by not knowing what was in them?
Seven letters. It had to mean something that he had taken the time to write them all to her.
She dragged out the kitchen chair, climbed up and took the letters down. Sitting on the sofa, she placed his newest letter to the back of the pile. They were all now in date order. She pulled the first letter open.
She read it. Checked the envelope to see if she had missed a page. And then read his brief one-page letter again. Dated just under a month ago, it described a trek he had taken with Edwin and Kara into the mountains of Monrosa. And that was all. She opened the next letter. This letter described his agreement with Edwin and his father as to what his new role would be. She nodded as she read the letter, seeing what a good fit his appointment as Chair of Monrosian Sports and Tourism was. The third and fourth letters described his travels throughout Europe as he promoted Monrosa and spoke at mental-health conferences about the benefits of sport and exercise to well-being. She was happy for him. She really was. But not once did he talk about them...about their week together. Sure, he asked how she was, asked if she would write to him, but apart from that, these letters were distant. Why had he even written them in the first place?
She ripped the fifth letter open. Irritated. Disappointed.
What did you want, Alice? Did you really expect them to be love letters? Letters begging to see you again?
She took the letter out of the envelope, a photograph falling onto her lap. And her heart melted. It was a photo of Luis with the cutest ever dachshund. His letter said that he had adopted him from a local shelter and that his name was Elfo. She stared at the photograph. Stared at him, the man who had insisted on staying in London to keep her company. The man who had made her laugh, sigh, feel more alive than she had ever done in her entire life. She stared at the photo and wondered if somebody was capable of pretending care, kindness and generosity to the level he had, without the mask of pretence slipping? She stared at his photo, tears blurring her vision. She was in love with him. She was in love with him for everything that was magnificent about him. But she still didn’t know if his love for her was real.
She opened the next letter. Tears blurred her eyes again when she read about the meeting he’d attended in the Young Adults Together London office to officially launch Stay Strong, their exercise-for-health programme, and his devastation as he fully grasped the pain some of their clients were battling on a daily basis. The feelings of otherness, of not fitting in or belonging to the world, the loneliness. And she cried even more to read of his determination to try to reach as many people as possible, to let people know that they were loved and valued and cherished for their uniqueness.
The seventh letter was short. She read it time and time again, trying to take every word in.
Dear Alice,
Our last time together was not how things should have ended. There are so many things I still need to say to you. Will you consider meeting me in Paris? In the hope that you will, I’ve enclosed flight and hotel details for you.
I dearly hope you will come, but if you don’t I will not write again.
I hope you find the happiness you deserve.
Thank you for a Christmas I will always cherish.
Luis
She stared at the dates on the tickets. He wanted to meet her next week, on February the fourteenth. Valentine’s Day.
She held all seven letters in her hands, weighing them, weighing their significance. He had taken the time to write to her. He had made no demands. Instead his letters had been considered glimpses into his life. They had been generous and kind.
And what had she done in return? Shame crept along her limbs. She had accused him of looking for a distraction. When the same could be levelled at her. Weren’t his appearance and the days they had spent together a distraction from her PhD? She had embraced his company and the chemistry between them as eagerly as he had. She had initiated and participated in all those emotionally and physically intimate moments as equally as he had. And when he had opened his heart to her, she had shut down like a coward. She hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him of the fears that held her hostage to a life so carefully led it was devoid of all colour and hope.
She looked again at the flight ticket. Would she go? She stood and paced the room, a burning anger towards her dad and her own inability to leave the past behind growing in intensity.
* * *
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’
Luis turned to Kara’s quietly spoken question, excusing himself from the group of sports agents and travel-company CEOs he had been speaking to.
Kara waited for his answer expectantly, this party having been her idea. At the beginning, the garden party had had a dual purpose—to celebrate his World Championship win and to formally announce his appointment both as Chair of the Monrosian Sports and Tourism Department and Global Sports Ambassador for Young Adults Together. But then, realising that the party could serve a wider purpose, he had expanded its scope to act as a showcase for everything that Monrosa could offer as a sports and wellness destination.
But the party was also Kara and Edwin’s way to privately acknowledge his return to Monrosa...and the family. And Kara’s attempt to cheer him up. Even though he continually insisted that he was perfectly happy, they both knew that that was a lie.
He hugged Kara into him and said, ‘Immensely.’ He gestured about him; the palace’s gardens had been transformed into a celebration of everything that was wonderful about the island. ‘How couldn’t I when you have given me the best party since time began?’
He might have suggested that the party celebrate Monrosa, but it had been Kara who pulled it together
in his absence, as he had been travelling abroad for much of the past month, promoting the island as the perfect destination both for professional athletes and amateurs, thanks to its climate and already excellent sports facilities that would be expanded in the next five years in line with the new sustainable-tourism strategy he was devising with his senior department strategists.
In the food area, all the island’s leading chefs had come together to produce a five-course tasting menu, using ingredients only sourced on the island. The food producers and their families were helping serve the food to the guests, using the opportunity to promote and educate on their produce. Local choirs and musicians were providing the entertainment. Staff and volunteers from the Monrosian Environmental Protection Agency were giving walking tours of the palace’s waterfront, explaining the importance of Monrosa’s unique biodiversity and Edwin’s strategy for protecting it. And down by the marina, in the late evening sunshine, the various sports bodies were giving demonstrations of the facilities available in Monrosa.
Kara smiled at him, but he could tell that she didn’t quite believe his insistence that he was having a good time. ‘I sent Alice an invite...she messaged to say that she was tied up with her thesis.’
He shifted away from Kara, closing his eyes for a moment, letting the winter sun heat his face. Trying to shift the knot of disappointment out of his throat. He could have told Kara that Alice wouldn’t respond. He had sent her numerous letters over the past month and had heard nothing in return. Not even a message telling him to stop writing to her.
It was close to six weeks since he had last seen her. On the morning of New Year’s Day he had escorted her to the car that was waiting to bring her from the palace to the airport, both of them pretending that the night before hadn’t happened, and that they were simply friends...or perhaps acquaintances, saying goodbye to one another after spending a few uneventful days in one another’s company. They had shaken hands, kissed each other on the cheek and said goodbye, only sharing a fleeting glance before the car had pulled away.
Christmas Encounter with a Prince Page 14
