Chapter Twenty
Dominic
I stand in my office. New York glitters outside my window. It was my home for decades. I’ve only been gone a month, but I feel disconnected. Like I’m in a strange, foreign world. It’s odd how much things have changed in the last four weeks.
I was so fixated on making sure I would still be a part of the baby’s life. That’s why it was so easy to let Hawke Security go. But I don’t think even I had fully realized how much of a rut I had fallen into, a routine that filled my days but left me without a purpose.
I was looking forward to the challenge of training the palace security team, was starting to get engaged in some of the meetings, looking forward to doing more visits with Sophie the way we did at the hospital.
I had started to enjoy Siravelle, too. It was slowly becoming the one thing I’ve never allowed New York to be: home.
I’ll still visit, even live there for stretches at a time. But it won’t be the same without her.
I glance at my phone. I’ve heard nothing from Sophie in the days since I left St. Lucia. Nothing came of Wilford’s article. A few phone calls, a few requests for interviews. But most dismissed it as a wild, baseless story by a disgraced reporter.
It also helped that when Sophie had deplaned in Siravelle, she had played her role perfectly for the reporters gathered to welcome her home from our honeymoon.
“My husband is in New York,” she had responded to one question, “overseeing preparations for his family’s foundation’s gala. ” It seemed so natural, so positive.
And when another reporter had asked about the article, she’d simply smiled and said, “When my husband and I expand our family, I know he’ll make an excellent father.”
Except I’m here, and she’s thousands of miles away. I don’t feel like an excellent father. I’m failing as a husband. At first, I thought leaving was the right thing to do, both of us were upset, hurt. But I pushed her away first, then got angry when she did the same.
I wander over to the windows, stare down at the city below me.
The streets I ran for years, the ones I made my own.
And yet they don’t inspire me now, don’t make me feel anything.
Not the peace I experienced sitting out on my balcony, gazing out over the pine forest and the ocean.
Not the rightness I felt when I went shopping for Sophie’s ring.
I should have stayed. I should have fought for her.
It took a few days for my anger and hurt to go away, for me to accept that Sophie hadn’t pushed me away because she wanted to, but because she thought it was the right thing to do.
Always committed to her duty and doing things for others, never herself.
My mother had attempted to call. Thankfully, Todd intercepted. I have no interest in learning more about her, her reasons and excuses for why she did what she did. If she’s found happiness, then that’s her business. But I’m not going to continue to let my past rule me.
I thought I had been strong, keeping everyone at a distance, protecting myself. But really, I’ve been letting my parents and their actions rule my life.
I had a realization when Todd told me about the call. So, I did something incredibly uncomfortable. I reached out to Aiden and Cassian and asked them to meet me for dinner.
Instead of sitting and listening to them talk and giving noncommittal answers, I opened up. I told them about those early years, about my grandmother. I shared more with them in those two hours than I had in over twenty years. It hurt. It really hurt.
But in the end, when Aiden clapped me on the back and Cassian told me they would always have my back, I realized the value of breaking down my walls and letting people in. They didn’t run, didn’t judge. They accepted me.
I glance down at my phone again. It’s time for me to stop waiting. I’ve always been a man of action, and I’ve been dragging my feet for the past few days.
I miss my wife. I want her back in my life. I want to support her, be her partner. I want us to be able to find happiness not just in the quiet moments when we’re alone but in public, too.
The truth that’s been pushing against my defenses finally breaks through. It’s not just wanting to be there for her. I love my wife. I love Sophaya, and I can’t imagine the rest of my life without her. I’d rather live with her under a microscope than be alone and safe.
I stalk across my office. It’s not just going to be enough to tell her. I need to show her in some way. Inspiration strikes.
I know what to do.
Sophaya
I sit in the library, curled up in one of the wingback chairs by the fireplace. A fire crackles in the grate, the only sound in the otherwise comforting quiet.
My eyes stray to the window seat where Dominic first made love to me as my husband. It hurts to remember. But I wouldn’t change it for anything.
I miss him. I wish I hadn’t pushed him away.
I didn’t do it just for him, although I told myself that in the moment.
No, I did it because I was scared. Because all I could see was my life becoming like my parents’.
All I could see was shoving Dominic into a role the way my father had been pushed into his.
But I should have talked to him. Should have given him time. Instead, I made a knee-jerk decision I’ve been regretting almost since the moment he walked out of the guesthouse and into the limo that whisked him away from me.
I know he’ll come back eventually. I don’t doubt his commitment to being a father. But whether or not we can recapture any of the magic we discovered is a question I’m afraid to ask.
The door creaks open. I glance over my shoulder, surprised when my mother walks in. I’m too tired to feign my usual indifference.
“I thought I might find you here.”
“Just resting for a moment.”
Mother walks over and sits in the wingback chair across from me. “I owe you an apology.”
Surprised, I sit up. “For what?”
Her laugh is strained, broken. “Where to start?” She stands again and paces over to one of the windows, crossing her arms as she stares out at the gardens. “I once loved a man. Before your father.”
The pain in her voice shocks me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her display any emotion to that depth aside from the loathing she feels for him.
“But when your father approached me and told me about the arrangement with his family, I did my duty. I hoped love would come in time.” Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. “When it didn’t, even after I gave him a son and a daughter, it turned me cold and bitter.”
She turns back. There’s no mask, no smooth aloofness. Just a deep sadness.
“I always saw him when I looked at you.” Tears well in her eyes. “I should have been looking at you all along.”
My own eyes start to burn. “Mother…”
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you love. I thought if I held back, if I made you strong, then you wouldn’t suffer the pain I did—first from the man I thought I’d spend my life with, and then from not being loved by your father. Instead, I hurt you. Over and over again.”
I’m not going to say it’s okay. Nothing will ever make the years of distance and coldness okay. But a part of the armor I forged in my early years living in this palace cracks. Just a small one. Enough to let in the possibility of something I never imagined would happen.
“I know what it’s like to have your heart broken.” Mother’s smile is sad. “I know you loved him.”
“I do. But I’m so afraid this life is going to crush him.”
“He’s a strong man. If he chooses you, you need to respect his choice.
Don’t make my mistake.” Her voice lowers.
“I don’t want him to resent you the way your father and I resent each other.
I haven’t seen much of Dominic, but what I have seen…
” She smiles faintly. “I believe he loves you.” She crosses to me, kneels before me.
Tentatively, she lays a hand over mine. My throat tightens.
“What do you want? Not as princess, not as queen. Just Sophaya.”
The answer is instant, so clear. “I want to be with Dominic.”
Her hand tightens over mine. “Then that’s what you should do.”
The same urge I felt that night in Venice—to get out, to do something wild and reckless—seizes me again. I stand. Mother rises with me.
“I need to go to New York. But I have a couple of meetings this afternoon, and several tomorrow.” The words stick on my tongue, but then I force them out. “Can you cover for me?”
“Yes.”
I hesitate. “Why are you being so kind to me?”
“When Dominic showed up, I realized it was the first time I could recall seeing you happy in private since your grandparents died. It showed me how responsible I’ve been for your unhappiness.
” She reaches up and places a hand on my cheek.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But in time, if you can see that I’m genuine about wanting to change and make things right, I’d like to try to be a better mother to you before it’s too late.
” Her eyes drop down to my stomach, emotion glinting in the depths.
“And a grandmother to my grandchild. If you’re comfortable with that. ”
Years of pain well up inside me; long nights, lonely days. But as I look at my mother, at a face so much like my own, I realize I want to try. Not just with Dominic but with the rest of my life. My mother. My role as future queen.
Even if Dominic and I don’t figure things out, knowing I have someone to turn to, to talk to, already makes me feel stronger.
I give in and hug my mother.
She freezes, then hugs me back.
“It’s going to take some time.” I squeeze tighter. “But I want to try.”
Hot tears fall on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
A frantic knock on the door has us pulling apart a moment before our press secretary, Helen, rushes in.
“Have you seen it?” She turns to me. “Did you know about this?”
“What are you talking about?”
She grabs a remote off one of the end tables and turns toward the flat-screen TV built into the far wall. “This.” She flicks it on.
Dominic’s face fills the screen. Longing hits me hard.
His hair is combed back, the same stubborn strands falling over his forehead.
His beard is neatly trimmed, his face calm and assured as he addresses a group of reporters in front of a podium.
An elegant-looking mansion soars behind him in the background.
“I can confirm that due to flooding, the annual autumn gala I host for the Hawke Foundation has been moved to the Dudley Mansion along the Hudson River.” His voice ripples out from the TV.
Deep, bold, gravelly. “In addition to our regular charities, we’ll also be financing the opening of a new youth shelter in New York City. ”
My heart twists. My chest swells with pride.
He fields several questions about the location, the construction, the opening date.
“What prompted this?” one of the reporters asks.
“Actually, the recent report that came out.”
My lips part in shock. What is he doing? He’s one of the most private people I know.
“Although the author of the article may not be my preferred choice, the facts about my childhood are true.”
Helen twitches beside me. “He can’t say things like that.”
I smother a smile. No, it doesn’t follow protocol. But I doubt Dominic will ever fully adhere to royal rules and regulations.
“One thing I did appreciate is that it brought attention to people like my grandmother. I only had a few years with her, but she made a huge impact on my life.” He glances down at the podium, then back up. “I hope one day I can be half the parent she was.”
The tears hit again, spilling over.
“Does that mean the rumors about the pregnancy are true?” another reporter shouts.
Helen goes into full-blown panic mode next to me, swearing in French and then Spanish as she starts pacing.
Dominic smiles. “My wife said it perfectly when she arrived back in Siravelle after our honeymoon. When we do have a family of our own, I will be forever grateful to have her as the mother of my children. She’s made me a better man, and I know she will bring the same care and compassion she exhibits in her role as a leader to the role of mom. ”
Love swells inside me. Never in a thousand years did I think Dominic would address the press in such a manner, let alone speak about me that way. Does this mean there’s hope? Is he just playing a role, or does he feel something more for me?
My mother wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “I’d say my guess was right.”
Even Helen is dabbing at her eyes as Dominic steps away from the podium. “I suppose that could have been worse,” Helen says, her voice strained.
I turn to my mother. “I have to go to him.”
She nods. “Go. I’ve got things covered here.”
A band loosens around my chest as I hurry out of the library. I’m not alone.
I move into the hall, heading for the elevator. I need to go upstairs and pack, then get hold of Amelie and have her book me a plane ticket.
I press the button for the elevator.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
I still. I know that voice. I just heard it on the television. There’s no way…
Slowly, I turn.
Dominic is standing just a few feet behind me.