Chapter 11 #2
Gabriel stepped forward and put a hand on Mr. Kaur’s shoulder and Mrs. Kaur’s arm, quietly sharing condolences as well.
He eventually took a seat next to Corrado and made some plans, and Corrado left to find a phone. Once the Kaurs and Genevieve finished consoling each other for the moment, Genevieve walked over to him.
She took his hand after she sat down, surprising him. He didn’t fucking care who noticed them together, but he did know she might regret it later.
“Shall I take you home, my dear?”
She visibly shuddered. “I…I can’t deal with my mother tonight. Maybe I could sneak in after she goes to sleep though. She’s probably still waiting up for me. Maybe. Who knows.”
He couldn’t let her vile retch of a mother destroy her after she was already so destroyed from losing a friend.
“Stay at the palace. No one will know except for Corrado and I if you don’t want them to, and we can take you back to your mother in the morning.
” He squeezed her hand. “I’m going to be selfish and ask you to let me take care you, Genevieve. ”
She stared at nothing in particular for a few moments. “In that same room you showed me before?”
“If you like. If you hated it, we have plenty of others.”
“Can I stay in your room? With you?” She looked at him, so much sadness in her eyes. “I-I don’t want to be alone tonight.” She suddenly shook her head. “Forget it. That was stupid. And I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I—”
He squeezed her hand again. “I understand. Of course you can stay with me. I won’t try anything like that with you, not while you’re grieving. Trust me, I’m not an asshole.”
She gave him a small smile and said quietly. “No, you’re not.”
They said goodbye to the Kaurs, Gabriel gently reminding them to reach out to him if they needed anything, and they left.
GENEVIEVE
Genevieve didn’t have much recollection of what happened once they left the hospital. She was too numb. If she thought of a single thing, that might make her think about other things, about her, and she didn’t want to think about anything at all. So she didn’t.
She let Gabriel escort her to a car, and she worried about getting in a car again, but then he held her close and she managed to get through it.
She let herself think only about his arms around her as they drove through the streets as the sun eased into the day.
How could another day dawn? Why didn’t the world stop? Why—
NO. She wasn’t going to think about it. She wasn’t going to think about it.
She barely noticed them going through the various palace gates. She didn’t even think about where they were going or what she was going to do, or even what she’d tell her mother about where she was.
“Shall I take you to the Rose Room again?”
It took her several moments to realize he was speaking to her and they were once again standing in the foyer of the Royal Wing. “What?”
“Would you like the same room? Or a different one?”
She frowned. “Your room. Aren’t we…I mean, never mind. That’s fine.” She didn’t want to be alone, but maybe she hadn’t told him that. Maybe he didn’t want her anymore because she’d just killed—
NO. She wasn’t thinking about it. She wasn’t thinking about it. She wasn’t thinking about it.
Gabriel hugged her and she let him, not returning it at first. Then she slowly wrapped her arms loosely around him in return.
He pressed his lips to her hair. “I’ll stay with you wherever you are. I’m not leaving you. I would love it if you stayed in my rooms, but you might be angry about it in the morning, so I wanted to double check in case you changed your mind since the hospital.”
Don’t be afraid to love him, Gen. Promise me.
SHE WASN’T THINKING ABOUT IT!
“I’ll stay with you, in your rooms.”
“All right, my dear.” He kissed the top of her head and slowly separated.
They separated but he grasped her hand and led her to a different part of the Royal Wing. They passed areas she hadn’t seen before, not that she saw much last time. Eventually he led her to another long hallway of rooms, protection agents stationed at the far ends.
When they entered, she noticed it wasn’t all that different from the suite she’d seen, simply bigger and with more rooms. He gave her a brief tour, then led her to his bedroom, where she finally put down the purses, and he showed her his bathroom.
“I’m going to call Agnes from the other room, get some clothing for you.
Do you need anything else? Something to eat or drink? ”
She frowned as she considered the last thing she ate, then remembered the diner. Her last meal with her best—
SHE. WASN’T. THINKING. ABOUT. IT.
“No.” Her voice sounded so…small. She hated it but she didn’t know how to fix it.
Gabriel kissed her forehead. “Shall I run you a bath then?”
She shook her head, even though that massive tub looked welcoming. “Shower.”
He nodded. “I’ll leave you to it then. There are towels just there and there,” he pointed to a towel warmer, then a cabinet. “I won’t come in unless you ask me to, all right? You’ll have your privacy. I’ll let you know once Agnes has brought some things over.”
She nodded, then went into the bathroom. He closed the door behind her.
It was as you’d expect the bathroom of a country’s heir to look: opulent. Marble countertops, warm lighting, gilding, even heated floors she realized as toed off her tennis shoes. Well, not her shoes, but—
NO.
She rubbed her hands over her face. As they fell away she found herself staring into the mirror. That’s when she saw it.
Blood.
Not hers. Sam’s.
She didn’t care about her incredibly messy hair or bruises and cuts. She didn’t care that her face was too pale or that her eyes looked haunted. She only cared about the blood.
The last things she had of her best friend was a battered purse and these clothes with her blood.
A few gasping breaths quickly turned to sobs and she fell to the floor. She scrunched up parts of her top, still on her body, and fisted it tightly. As if the tighter she held it, the closer Sam would be. If only she held on to it, she wouldn’t have to let it—or her—go.
A few gentle knocks and a soft female voice. “Miss Ruffin? Genevieve? May I come in? It’s Agnes.”
She couldn’t stop sobbing long enough to answer but shook her head and laid down on the floor, curling into a ball, and letting go of the shirt to bury her face in her hands.
The door clicked open, then shut, and soft clacks of female shoes echoed in the room. She sensed Agnes sit down next to her, her gentle hand resting on her upper arm. She didn’t say anything further, simply sat there, gently rubbing her arm until she sobbed herself out.
Her eyes were a mess and her nose was running, so Gen didn’t want the princess to see but she also didn’t care if she did in that moment. So she blinked her eyes open and lowered her hands.
Agnes sat there with an encouraging smile and several handkerchiefs.
Gen took one and slowly sat up, realizing that they were men’s handkerchiefs; they must belong to Gabriel.
While she cleaned herself up, Agnes rose and filled a glass with water from a glass pitcher on the counter and brought it to her, taking a seat on the floor next to her again. “I hope you won’t mind water from the sink.”
Gen shook her head as she blew her nose, making very unladylike noises. “Thank you.” Tears were threatening again but she took several deep breaths and drank the water in several long, also unladylike gulps.
“I’m so sorry about Miss Kaur, Miss Ruffin. She was a wonderful woman.”
NO. She had to stop crying for fuck’s sake. If Sam were here, she’d tell her to…
Eventually, Gen said, “Sam was the best.”
“Sam?”
“It was her nickname. She hates…hated.” She took a deep breath. “Hated when people pronounced her name wrong. They’d say Sam-eye-ra instead of Suh-mee-ruh. So she started going by Sam.”
“I always thought the name was beautiful. I do love my parents, but ‘Agnes’ is a very old-fashioned name.”
Suddenly feeling awkward, Gen wasn’t sure what to do or say, so she went to the default her mother had brainwashed in her. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh Miss Ruffin, whatever for?”
Gen put a hand over Agnes’s. “Please, call me Genevieve.”
Agnes put her other hand on top of Gen’s. “Then you must call me Agnes. I insist,” she added when Gen was about to protest.
Gen nodded. After a few moments of debating how to start, she said, “I didn’t mean to…I mean I…”
Agnes patted her hand. “I understand completely. You don’t have to apologize for anything, certainly not for your grief.
Cry all you want, yell, scream…this palace and the royal apartments are remarkably well sound-proofed.
Though Gabriel would need to let the nearby security know so they don’t storm in here if they did overhear anything. ”
At the thought of Gabriel, suddenly she remembered what she looked like. Sobbing on top of that would have only made her face puffier and her eyes swollen.
“He thinks your beautiful,” Agnes said, somehow reading Gen’s mind. “And he’s very worried about you. I could tell in his voice when he called me earlier. No doubt, he’s standing guard outside the door in case you need anything.”
“You’re both very kind. I certainly wouldn’t be so kind if someone showed up to my house, disrupting their lives, and spending ages sobbing.”
Agnes patted her hand, then let go. “Yes, you would. You don’t fool me, or Gabriel. Now, would you still like a shower? Or have you changed your mind for a bath? I’m not sure what injuries you may have, but do you need help getting out of your clothes?”
“No!” Gen fisted the top again, holding it even tighter against her body. Then the tension suddenly left her. “I’m…I’m sorry. This top…it was Sam’s and it still smells like her and I can still feel her and hear her and—”
Agnes pulled Gen into a hug. Gen didn’t reciprocate at first, startled as she was, but then she relaxed into it.