70. Unexpected Arrival
70
UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
ODETTE
I drunkenly played the piano to pass the time, taking requests from Alex and Astrid. Astrid arrived from the UK directly, having boarded a plane to celebrate Celeste’s death faster than I ever imagined. They lay on the couches, giggling like school girls as they hadn’t in years. It was all very bizarre. Alexandra was day drunk and trying to make it through. In my delirium, I texted Wyatt a thank you for the flowers but mentioned none of them to the gallery. I knew my sisters would inflict their opinions on me.
The butler appeared. I assumed he checked to see if we needed more refreshments, but he had a message.
“Your Majesty, a visitor for Princess Odette is at the gate. Given procedures, they would like guidance. Mourning means no guests, and… though he is on the list of authorised guests, we should turn him away. I am here to request your opinion.”
My heart stopped. Somehow, that stupid text changed everything. I knew it was Wyatt. Alexandra was about to learn the same.
“Who is it?” Alexandra asked.
“Mr Worthington, ma’am. He would like to speak to your sister.”
Alex and Astrid sat up, staring .
“I didn’t ask him to come,” I said. “I merely thanked him for the sympathy card and flowers. I told him he shouldn’t have bothered.”
“Oh, that lovely bouquet over there is from him?” Astrid asked. “Lucky bitch. Parker is dreadful at such things.”
“I didn’t want them,” I said. “You could have them.”
“Let him in. He’s important.”
“Alex! Oh my god! You cannot be serious!” I flushed bright red.
The Butler hesitated.
“That is an order. Let him in,” Alexandra bellowed.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I glared at her, standing to pace.
“Odette, you’re in love with him. He’s here to see you. He still loves you. I will not sit idly by and let you waste this,” Alexandra said. “This is a good omen.”
“A death is not a good omen,” I countered. “It is a death. Can we stop celebrating?”
“Can’t stop, won’t stop!” Astrid said. “Hit me, sister.”
By that, she meant with the sparkling water on the table. Astrid was pregnant and due in autumn. Despite her protests about wanting to wait, she and Parker wasted little time getting the show on the road.
She set her glass for Alexandra to fill.
I paced until Wyatt appeared at the doorway. I stopped, making eye contact, but unable to speak. He wasn’t his clean-shaven self. Instead, he was his weekend self, where he didn’t shave and let himself grow stubble. This was my favourite version—the one who saw me on a Sunday morning and pulled me closer rather than pushed me away. I couldn’t smell his cologne, but I knew his scent.
“Odette, I don’t have a speech, but I love you. I love you so much. And I’m a fucking idiot for not just running here the minute you got home from The Netherlands to apologise and insist I loved you. Odie, I… I didn’t want to put Theo through anything, but I didn’t realise how much I miscalculated. I should have trusted you, and I am sorry I didn’t.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was everything I wanted—and needed—to hear. I didn’t deserve his words, but I wanted to tell him I agreed and apologise for pulling back. I’d probably have given him a break if he’d just run over. Instead, I took off.
“Fucking finally!” Astrid declared.
Wyatt’s eyes grew wide. He turned to see my sisters on the couches.
“Uh… fuck. I didn’t mean to… go off like that, Your Majesty and… Your Highness.”
“Alex and Asti, please, darling,” Astrid sat up. “Champs?”
He stared at her stomach, then the bottle.
“Oh, she’s not drinking,” Alexandra giggled. “She’s just offering . We’re celebrating the death of a deeply fucked up woman. Care to join?”
“Alex, can you leave him be?” I asked, finally able to talk.
I needed to get Wyatt alone, but suddenly, my feet wobbled. I stepped forward, falling towards the hard floor below, twisting my ankle as I did. Wyatt rushed to catch me, gently lowering me to the floor. He bent next to me. Astrid came over. Alexandra sat up, probably too drunk to be of much use.
“You okay?” Wyatt asked.
“I’m… broken,” I giggled as Grieg jumped in his lap and licked his face. “I’m so sorry.”
“Your leg is broken?” Wyatt panicked. “Oh, God!”
“No, she’s pissed,” Astrid said.
“I am apologising?—”
“Not pissed in the American sense,” Astrid clarified. “She’s drunk, mate.”
“Astrid, less British, please,” Alexandra groaned.
“British isn’t a language, Lex!”
“Just be less British, alright?”
The two argued as Wyatt checked my foot, intensely focused like a medic.
“You can wiggle your toes?”
I wiggled my toes, then giggled again. “Oh my God, you’re so cute when you get worried and flustered.”
Wyatt cocked his head. “You are drunk, aren’t you?”
I realised he’d rarely seen me drunk—certainly never this drunk.
“I’m sorry. Blame Alex. I am. I should lie down. ”
He helped to hoist me back, supporting me. I winced.
“C’mon. You should lie down,” Astrid said. “Come on.”
Gesturing at Wyatt, he frightened me by picking me up.
“I’m not going to drop you. Promise. But if you hop like that down the hall, it will take a fucking century, Odette,” Wyatt said.
“We love an efficient king,” Astrid declared, passing a footman who stared, gap-mouthed. The place was a fucking circus.
Wyatt tried to keep up with Astrid and failed. “Why do all you women walk so fast? And how… you’re pregnant? When did you get pregnant, Astrid?”
“Oh, just before Christmas. Honestly, I was probably in that room?—”
TMI, Astrid!
She pointed to her bedroom before rushing to open mine. Grieg shuffled after us.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Astrid said, closing the door.
Wyatt slowly lowered me onto the bed and tucked me in. Sitting at my feet, he gave me a sympathetic look.
“I’m sorry for all of this, Odie. I regret yelling and?—”
“I shouldn’t have pulled back, but I didn’t know how else to protect Theo. I suspected you hated me and… that this would never work.”
“I still don’t know if it can,” Wyatt said. “But I want it to. I want to try. You made me the happiest I had been since we lost Isla and… I cannot imagine spending time with anyone else, my love.”
My love . It was like we never stopped. The booze took over. I let out a sigh and curled up.
“Can you spoon me?” I murmured.
Wyatt kicked his shoes off and climbed into bed next to me. “When you ask me in that sweet voice, I cannot deny you.”