Carrie
If I’d had any doubts about how different my life was from Genny’s this conversation with her parents was a timely reminder.
As they discussed meeting at their private plane to head to the island country that they literally owned so that her sister could become queen – it was all surreal.
It was very different from anything in my reality.
I could tell her parents were intensely curious about who I was and why Genny was here with me, but they were too polite to ask any questions. I wondered if they’d be grilling her once they were alone. I was betting yes.
Genny’s parents finally left, their bodyguards at their side as they slid into a black Town Car parked on the street. We watched out the front window, standing there long after they disappeared from view.
When Genny finally turned to me, I could see the turbulent emotions crossing her face. She was leaving. Heading back to her home country and while I knew she’d likely come home eventually, it sounded like she’d be gone for a while.
I wasn’t sure where that left us, but I suspected it wasn’t anywhere good. Then again, we both knew going in that this thing between us was temporary.
“Let’s finish our breakfast,” I said.
I’d put the plates in the oven to keep the food warm while her parents were here. We headed into the kitchen, eating in a somber silence until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“So your sister’s about to be queen,” I ventured. “That’s cool.”
She popped up out of her chair. “Oh shit, let me text her.”
She rushed out of the room, returning a few minutes later. She took a bite of waffle while her phone powered up, wincing as it connected with the cell tower and started beeping with message after message.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning down the volume before scanning her messages.
She typed something out, a message to her sister presumably, then returned to her breakfast, ignoring the phone for the time being.
“It was fun having you here,” I said lamely, like she was an old college pal who’d come in for the weekend. “You’re the best stowaway fugitive I’ve ever harbored.”
She smirked but didn’t respond. I could see her gathering up her courage and decided to head it off before she cut me loose.
“I know what you’re going to say. It was fun, but we come from different worlds. You have responsibilities in your country, and you’re going to be gone for a while so it’s best for us to just say goodbye and part as friends.”
Her eyes widened like I’d slapped her. “That wasn’t what I was going to say at all.”
“What were you going to say?” I asked curiously.
She put her fork down and took a deep breath, her words coming out fast.
“I was going to say that I’ve had a lot of fun with you and I…
uh, I really like you and I’d like to see you again.
When I get back I mean. I think we have something…
well, I think we have something special here and I’m not ready to just give up on it.
I want us to give this a shot. I want us to date when I get back. ”
My heart thumped painfully in my chest. She was saying what I wanted to hear, but I knew better than to believe it.
I could see it all before us – a month or two of calls and texts that gradually taper off.
She was young and beautiful, and no doubt would have suitors all over her when she went home.
Suitable suitors. I hadn’t needed to see her mother dripping in diamonds and her father in a designer suit to understand how unsuitable we were for each other.
I wasn’t the woman she could take to some fancy ball.
I hadn’t worn a dress since my college graduation.
Genny might have been able to fit into my world, much easier than I would have predicted in fact. But I would never fit in Princess Genevieve’s world. The best thing for us to do was to put an end to things now before either of us got hurt.
Hurt any more, that is, because her going away was going to hobble me. There was no way it wouldn’t.
“Genny,” I said gently. “This hasn’t been real. We were thrown together and while we obviously have a strong attraction between us, that’s all it is. I know it feels like more than that, but once we aren’t living together what we are feeling right now will fade.”
I wasn’t sure which one of us I was trying to convince.
“It won’t fade,” she said stubbornly. “I love you, Carrie. I know I’ve only known you for less than a week, but…”
“You don’t love me,” I denied, even as I felt the truth of her words in my chest, right where my own feelings of love burned for her, bright and strong. “It’s just infatuation.”
“I may be younger than you, but I’m old enough to know how I feel,” she said, anger threading between her words. “Don’t tell me I don’t know when I do.”
“I’m sorry Genny, honestly I am, but it’s going to be easier on both of us if we can just make a clean break.” My stomach twinged painfully.
“So this is it?” she asked incredulously. “We eat waffles and say goodbye? You’re not willing to try dating, try being out together in the real world, openly?”
“You won’t be here to date,” I reminded her. “Who knows how long you’ll be gone?”
“We can talk while I’m gone,” she said. “And if we still feel the same when I get back to Seattle…”
I shook my head. “There’s no way this is ever going to work. We need to say goodbye.”
“We can’t even be friends?”
“No.”
I made my voice firm, the only way I could protect myself, the only way I could keep from saying what I really wanted to say…
that I wanted to be friends, that I wanted to try a relationship, that I wanted to see her when she got back.
I couldn’t say any of it because I knew it was never going to work.
She was young enough to believe it would be okay, but I’d never seen a long-distance relationship work out.
And while none of my friends had ever dated an actual princess, I’d seen how it went when they dated women out of their league.
Genny was as out of my league as she could be.
The best thing was to rip off the band-aid. It hurt now, but I was saving us both a much worse hurt later on.
Genny got up so fast her chair fell over. “Okay fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
I couldn’t let her think that. I jumped up, grabbing her elbows, holding her close.
“You’re wanted Genny, but one of us has to be sensible. I’m a middle aged caterer who holds her breath at the end of every month, hoping I’m going to have enough money to cover everything. You’re a young and vibrant princess who lives in a goddamned castle. We just don’t fit.”
“We fit just fine when I’ve got my head between your legs.” She was crying now, thick tears that tracked down her cheeks and dropped off her jaw. “We fit fine when we’re cuddling on the couch or taking a bath together.”
“None of this is real,” I protested weakly. “We were thrown together and everything feels intense, even for me, but this isn’t a relationship. It was… I don’t know, a fun fling. A diversion.”
She took a deep, heaving breath. “Okay then, I guess I should go.”
“Stay a little while longer,” I said without thinking. “We can have one last night together before you go.”
She shook her head sadly. “I can’t spend more time with you, knowing that I love you, and you don’t feel the same.”
“I never said I didn’t feel the same,” I said softly.
“You love me?” she asked.
I nodded.
“But you said it’s not real.”
“It’s not,” I protested, even though I didn’t fully believe it myself. “This doesn’t happen in real life. People don’t fall in love in the space of a few days. And even if they do, we’re not all princesses. We don’t get happily ever afters.”
She studied me for several seconds before she pulled back.
“You might not believe in happily ever afters Carrie, but I do. And you and I are going to have ours, I’m sure of it. I’m going to prove it to you eventually.”
She stepped away, then took a few more steps before lifting her chin and meeting my eyes.
“I’m going to grab my stuff and go. But mark my words Carrie Owens, you haven’t seen the last of me.”
She jogged down the hallway, returning a few minutes later with her purse. I was still standing exactly where I’d been when she walked away. Setting her purse on the ground, she stalked towards me, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me towards her.
She kissed me then, her mouth hard and rough, her tongue sweeping against mine, hot and possessive. I wrapped my arms around her waist and returned the kiss with everything I had, and when we finally pulled back, we were both gasping for breath.
“I’ll be back,” she said softly. “Wait and see.”
And then she was gone.
I stared into space for a long time, replaying everything that had happened this morning. I knew our little bubble would burst eventually, but even though I’d expected it, I wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt.
With a sigh I headed into the bedroom to change into my painting clothes, determined to work out my emotions on the canvas. But as I stared at the painting that I’d started the day of her hike, I couldn’t do anything but sink down to the floor and let myself cry.