Chapter 40 #2
"Do you really think so?" she asked, smoothing the silk skirt with careful fingers. "I felt a little dizzy when the nurses helped me get dressed, but I really wanted to wear it for you."
"You're the most beautiful princess in the entire hospital," I said, settling into the chair beside her bed. "In fact, I think you might be the most beautiful princess in the entire city."
She beamed at that, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. "The nurses said I could go to the ballroom for a little while if I felt up to it. They got me a wheelchair that matches my dress."
I glanced at the elegant wheelchair parked beside her bed, noting how someone had decorated it with pink ribbons and small silk flowers.
“Well then,” I said, standing and offering her my arm with theatrical gallantry, ‘shall we have our royal dance, Your Highness?”
Her eyes widened with delight. “Here? In my room?”
“A princess should have her first dance in private with her prince,” I declared, helping her carefully to her feet. The post-check up weakness was evident in the way she gripped my arm for support, but her determination was fierce. “Before she makes her grand entrance to the ball.”
I activated the room's music system, finding a classical waltz that filled the small space with gentle melody. Mallory's face transformed with wonder as I took her hands, positioning them properly before beginning a slow, careful dance around the limited floor space.
She was lighter than air in my arms, fragile but radiant, her laughter echoing off the walls as I spun her slowly.
The IV pole moved with us, a constant reminder of her condition, but she didn't seem to care.
For these precious moments, she was just a fourteen-year-old girl living out her fairy tale dreams.
“This is perfect,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for being my prince, Lively.”
“Thank you for choosing me,” I replied, meaning every word. The pure joy on her face was worth every moment of my parents’ disapproval, every tedious conversation with donors, every second of pretending to be someone I just wasn’t and didn’t want to be.
“Don’t tell Hailey,” Mallory continued and I forced myself to relax at the mention of her name. “But you’re my bestest friend in the world, you know.”
And, for a second, my heart broke for the kid. She should have friends her age, but all she had was…me and her sister. Not that I wasn’t honored, because I totally was. It was just…a bit sad.
I smiled down at her though, and said, “Don’t tell her, either, but I think you’re way cooler.” I said, and she giggled, eyes bright.
So adorable . Being so damn adorable just ran in the family, didn’t it?
This. This was what mattered to me.
My phone buzzed with what was probably the fifth text from my mother, but I ignored it. Let them find me. Let them drag me back to their performance. For now, I was exactly where I needed to be.
“Lively?” Mallory's voice had gone quiet, thoughtful in a way that immediately put me on alert.
“Yeah?” Was something wrong? Was she feeling pain somewhere?
“Are you and Hailey no longer talking?”
That question nearly made me miss a step, but I managed to catch myself in time and execute the dip that made her squeal, even as I scrambled to think of something to say that wasn’t a complete lie.
But, like, was lying really off the table here?
“What…What makes you ask that?” I managed, proud that my voice came out steady even as my brain whirred in different directions, trying to come up with some plausible explanation that didn’t sound fucking stupid.
She studied me with those too-knowing eyes, seeing right through whatever expression I was trying to maintain.
Fourteen years old and she could read me like a book.
“She came to visit yesterday, and when I mentioned you, she got this look on her face.
Like she was sad but trying to hide it. And you've been different too. Sadder.”
She… what ? Could that…Was there…Was there a chance that she—
No. I cut off that line of thinking before it could take root. I couldn’t afford to hope. Hope was a luxury I’d used up and exhausted weeks ago.
“We're not fighting,” I said carefully, picking my words like I was navigating a minefield. Which was technically true—you couldn't fight with someone who barely acknowledged your existence. “Sometimes people just... need space.”
“But something's wrong,” she pressed, her eyes boring into me.
Ah, shit. She wasn’t going to let this go, was she?
Before I could figure out how to respond without lying to her face, though, I heard the soft whoosh of the door sliding open behind us. I didn't turn immediately, assuming it was probably one of my parents’ minions who’d found me, but then I heard a familiar intake of breath.
“Oh!”
I turned, still holding Mallory’s hands, and found myself staring at two people I’d never met but recognized immediately from Mallory's countless stories. David and Karen Hartley stood in the doorway, both dressed in elegant evening wear, their faces radiating the kind of genuine warmth that made my chest tight with longing for something I just knew I’d never had.
And behind them, in a vision that stopped my heart entirely, was…Hailey. The mere sight of her sent dopamine rushing through my bloodstream, effectively knocking the breath from my lungs.
Good God. She was absolutely devastating in a deep blue dress that hugged her curves like liquid silk, the fabric flowing over her body in ways that made my mouth go dry.
Her dark hair was swept up in an elegant twist that exposed the elegant line of her neck—the one I’d dreamed about pressing my lips to more times than I could count.
She looked like something out of a fairy tale, a total opposite to the athletic outfits or her practice gear that I’d seen her in on campus. And I seriously didn’t know what to do with myself.
Mallory might have been the most beautiful princess in the room. But Hailey…Christ—Hailey was a goddamn queen.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Mrs. Hartley said, her voice gentle as she took in the scene before her. “We didn't realize Mallory had a visitor.”
“Mom! Dad!” Mallory's delighted voice cut through the sudden tension in the room, her small hand squeezing mine with surprising strength. She beamed at the people in the doorway, pride radiating from every inch of her small frame. “This is the prince I told you about! Isn’t he handsome?”