30. “Waiting for Love” - Avicii
“Waiting for Love” - Avicii
Sleep is not coming easily tonight. While Henry is out like a light bulb with a blown fuse beside me, I’m kept awake by the dilemma of what to do with Elizabeth’s confession. Before leaving, she begged me not to tell Henry.
Maybe it makes me a cold-hearted bitch, but I don’t give a damn what Elizabeth Gable wants. She marched into our lives, blew them up with her nuclear bomb of an announcement, and now that I know she lied about the whole thing, has the audacity to ask me to keep it a secret?
If I choose not to say anything, it won’t be for her sake.
It will be for his.
I look over at Henry’s dreaming form, the newly formed lines on his face softened with sleep.
He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.
If this is what being a father does to him, I wish I had been more willing to consider a baby before now.
It’s not as if I’m opposed to the idea. It just felt too inconvenient and too terrifying.
If I tell him the truth—that Axel is in fact his brother and not his son—he’ll be devastated. He’s become so attached to him. He’ll also break into prison and kill his father, and that could get messy.
But if I don’t say anything and he finds out later, he’ll be angry that I kept this from him, especially since we agreed not to keep any more secrets.
The easy thing to do would be to tell him, to announce from the rooftops that the royal family isn’t as scandalous as everyone has been led to believe. This news would go a long way toward keeping our image with the public.
But it would destroy Henry.
I stroke his thick hair, twining it between my fingers. I can’t do that to him. I can’t ruin everything he thinks he has. Elizabeth is right—if I truly love him, I will keep this from him.
So I fall asleep with the resolution to be the best possible stepmother I can be to a child who isn’t even my husband’s.
While on my way to cut the ribbon for a new bypass, I get a message from Henry. Parents’ meeting at Axel’s school tonight.
Dread settles over me like a blanket. Is this what it’s going to be like from now on, the four of us traipsing to all kinds of events for the next fifteen years? Soccer matches and award banquets and spelling contests.
I type out He’s THREE but delete it instead of sending it. I write back Okay! with a smiley face that conveys the exact opposite of how I feel. It’s a good thing we’re texting, because Henry would see right through me otherwise.
“Do you still want me to stay late tonight?” Maisie asks from the seat beside me.
I glance up to see if she is reading over my shoulder, but she’s engrossed in her own phone. “Actually, it looks like I’ll be attending a parents’ meeting tonight.”
We were planning to draft my quarterly newsletter, which goes out in a few weeks to the two million subscribers on my email list.
A look of relief washes over her face. “So I don’t need to stay? Beck has been pestering me about trying this new place down on Twenty-Third.”
“Yeah, go. Sounds like I’ll be stuck looking at blobs of modeling clay that are supposed to be dragons and listening to a teacher drone on about what a gifted child Axel is.”
Maisie shoots me a grimace that says “sorry about that, but I’m glad it’s you and not me,” even though she rubs her stomach as if she’s thinking “I can’t wait until it’s me.”
I leave my office earlier than usual, intent on showing Henry that I can be the kind of woman who raises a family. I may not know exactly what to do yet, but I’m willing to try.
He’s already changing when I get to our suite, and I take a few moments to appreciate the sculpted muscles in his back as he bends over to pull his socks on.
“Hey,” he says when he catches me staring. He yanks me against him and gifts me with a long kiss. Just when I think it’s going to develop into more, he breaks it off with a reluctant grin. “Don’t want to be late, but maybe afterwards.”
“What does one wear to these things anyway?” I stare at the row of colorful jackets that are my usual go-to when I need a boost of confidence.
“I’m just going casual,” he says over his shoulder.
No suit, then. I close the closet doors and move to the next one, pulling out a dress with a small geometric pattern and tiny buttons down the front. It looks like something Elizabeth might wear. I hold it up. “Do you think this would be okay?”
Henry turns around, and for a second, he looks confused. Then his face falls into what can only be described as pity. “C, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—” He drops the shoe he’s holding and walks over to me. “There are only two spots per kid.”
I frown at him, but then it hits me what he’s saying. Two spots for the parents. And since both of Axel’s parents will already be there, I’m only a third wheel. Unnecessary.
I ignore the giant lump of emotion that has suddenly formed in my throat and nod. “Oh, okay. I assumed we were both going, but that makes sense.” I turn to hang the dress back in the closet.
His hand slides up my arm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
“It’s fine. Honestly.” I force a smile onto my face as I turn back to him. “I’ll be fine. Relieved actually. This will give me a chance to catch up on some reading. I haven’t read a book in forever. Besides, I’m super tired.” I’m rambling, so I snap my jaw shut.
His eyes travel over my face as if trying to determine whether I’m telling the truth or not. Finally, he presses a kiss to my temple and murmurs, “Hopefully not too tired.”
My chuckle sounds false, and I pray he doesn’t notice. “Never.”
He finishes getting ready, and ten minutes later, he’s gone and I’m left here with nothing but an empty suite and the knowledge that I could have prevented all of this if I had just told him Elizabeth’s secret. Regret swirls through me like an ocean eddy.
The media responded with hesitant acceptance to our announcement that we’re making Axel part of our family.
It feels like they’re waiting for the punchline.
Some reporters have gone so far as to paint me as the poor, betrayed wife.
Much as I shared that sentiment a few weeks ago, having the people feel sorry for their queen is not good for any country’s morale.
But aside from revealing that Elizabeth has been lying this entire time and completely destroying Henry’s dreams, what else can I do?
I call Bea to invite her to join me for a movie night.
She’s fully recovered, but I know she’s still grieving the baby.
A distraction will be good for both of us.
While I wait for her to arrive, I text Henry to ask how it’s going.
I can only imagine how bored he must be right now, gazing at so many crayon drawings his eyes are starting to glaze over.
Several minutes later, he still hasn’t opened my message.
Bea arrives with a giant tub of popcorn and a thermos of hot chocolate. I let her pick the movie, and she queues This Means War. I’ve seen it before, but it’s been years. I could use a good laugh.
We do laugh, so hard I spit hot chocolate back into my cup on multiple occasions.
At least until Tom Hardy and his son take over the screen.
All I can think about is Henry and Axel.
I already know how this one ends, too. Tom doesn’t get the new girl.
He gets back together with the mother of his son.
I look at my phone again, but there are no new notifications.
“You need to stop checking that thing,” Bea says, eyes still on the TV.
I push it under my leg. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right.” She shoves another large handful of popcorn into her mouth. “You’ve been looking at it every thirty seconds.”
“He still hasn’t texted me back.” It’s been over an hour.
“Maybe he’s busy. It happens occasionally, you know,” she says, even though when she’s the one waiting on a text from a man, she goes on a rampage until she finally hears from him.
“He’s with her,” I say.
She turns to me then, brows pulled together. “Who?”
“Elizabeth,” I say. “They’re at some thing at Axel’s school.”
“So they’re in public.”
“I think so?” I don’t know a thing about parents’ meetings.
For all I know, this could be a private meeting between both parents, orchestrated by Elizabeth herself to get Henry alone.
She did confess to being in love with him, after all.
And we’ve already established that she has no trouble lying, so there’s no way I’m going to believe her when she says she won’t act on her feelings.
“Celia.”
I glance at Bea’s face before dropping my eyes back to my lap. I sneak another peek at my screen. Nothing.
“You have to get out of your head,” she says, placing a hand on my leg.
“How long does it take to text back ‘all good’?”
She sighs. “He probably hasn’t checked his phone.”
“Who doesn’t check their phone in an hour?”
Bea raises a brow and stuffs another handful of popcorn in her mouth.
“Okay, fine. Who besides me doesn’t check their phone for that long? Definitely not Henry.”
“Maybe they have a no-phones policy. Or maybe he’s just trying to be present. Either way, you shouldn’t be worrying about it. You should be ogling Chris Pine with me.”
She’s right, of course, so I turn my attention back to the movie and the eye-feast that is two attractive men rolling through broken glass over the girl they both want. But it does little to keep my thoughts there.
What are Henry and Elizabeth doing right now?
Did they stop for a bite to eat afterward, is he tucking Axel into bed, are they sharing a nightcap and a heart-to-heart at Elizabeth’s pristine kitchen table, which probably looks like something directly from the set of one of those home renovation shows?
I wonder how beautiful she looks tonight, and if he feels a flicker of attraction for her. Of course he does. There isn’t a heterosexual man who wouldn’t. She’s gorgeous and sexy. I wonder if she’ll go to press a kiss to his cheek that will “accidentally” turn into something more.
The final credits roll on the movie, and there’s still no response from Henry. If there was an accident, I would have been notified immediately, which leads me to the only other plausible conclusion. They are out together, doing god knows what.
I may not know much about parents’ meetings, but I know they don’t take this long. My veins flood with adrenaline, and I rub my hands up and down my thighs, trying to convince my body to relax.
Bea traps one of my hands against my leg. “Relax. He’ll be back soon, and you’ll see that you were worried for nothing.”
My eyes stay focused on my lap. “What if he’s cheating on me?”
She sets down the popcorn tub and grabs my face. “Look at me. Do you really think Henry would do that?”
I consider this for a second before shaking my head. “No.”
“Then trust him.” She drops her hands. “And if he does, I’ll be first in line to help you dispose of his favorite body part.”
I can’t stop the small smile that lifts the corner of my mouth. “Thanks for the offer. I’m sorry for suspecting that you and he—” I break off as all my blood rushes to my face.
She rolls her eyes. “You should apologize to him for that, not me. Personally, I’d have done it if he’d been interested.”
I gasp and smack her arm. “Beatrice!”
She grins and pops another bite into her mouth. “Just kidding. I lost my chance a long time ago.”
I shake my head, still unsure whether she’s serious or not. “I’m also sorry for the way I pressured you before. About . . . you know.” I gesture to her empty belly.
Her brows pinch together in pain. “I don’t blame you for it. You were just trying to protect me, to protect all of us.”
“That doesn’t mean I should have tried to make decisions for you.”
Her eyes skim over me, and she gives me a sad smile.
“Something good did come out of all of this, you know. I realized that it’s time for me to grow up.
I was a mother for a few short weeks, and that experience changed me.
It made me realize I want a family of my own, someone who loves me even when I’m acting like a bitch, and a baby I can raise to be a good person. ”
My little sister has out-matured me. She has been through things no less trying than my own experiences, and she’s allowed them to shape her into the person she is today.
“I’m so proud of you, Bea.” I squeeze her hand.
I hope she finds that person at the right time. I hope he treats her the way she deserves. I hope he doesn’t come with a love child packed away in the closet, ready to destroy everything. And I hope he doesn’t stay out with the mother of that child the way my husband has for the past three hours.
Where in the bloody hell is he?