Evie offers me a sympathetic smile. If any of my friends can empathize with what I’m going through, it would be her. She dealt with something similar with her husband, Julian. Maybe not to the level of Anderson and me, but she can certainly relate.
“Do you want to know what changed my mind about Julian?” she asks, her green eyes awash with compassion.
“What’s that?”
“I realized how lucky I was. When I first learned that Julian kept this huge secret from me, that he was the subject of the article I’d been writing for the magazine, unbeknownst to me, I was absolutely furious. It was the worst kind of betrayal. But then I realized the truth.”
“The truth?” I repeat, swallowing hard through the ache burning my chest.
“I was one of the few lucky people to know Julian. The real Julian. Not this other persona he’d created. Just like you’re lucky enough to know the real Anderson, the side of this highly sought-after prince that no one else gets to see. Who cares if you don’t know Prince Gabriel? What you have is infinitely more special. Sure, when his father was up there announcing your engagement and upcoming marriage, Anderson may have not been the same man. But I guarantee you the love he has for you is the same. Don’t throw it away because you don’t think you know him. You do. You know him better than anyone. And I’m not saying that because you own his cock.”
I burst out laughing, swiping my tears from my cheeks.
“It’s because you own his heart,” Chloe adds. “Regardless of whether he’s the Anderson you met on Route 66 or the Prince Gabriel the public adores, his heart is still the same. There’s no doubt in my mind that it beats for you, and only you.”
Emotion swells in my chest, and I choke out a sob. “God, I hate all these pregnancy hormones.”
“Oh, don’t get me started,” Evie says. “I was watching Schitt’s Creek the other day and couldn’t stop crying.”
“Was it the series finale?” Izzy asks. “Because I cried during that, too.”
Evie slowly shakes her head. “No. It was that scene where David and Stevie are buying wine and equating the wine to David’s sexuality, like how he likes red wine and white wine, and sometimes a red wine that used to be a white wine.” Her lower lip quivers. “It was so beautiful how accepting Stevie was of that.”
The line falls silent for a moment before we all laugh once more. Unfortunately, my moment of happiness is cut short by a knock on the door.
“Ms. Tremblay, you need to be at the palace in ninety minutes.”
I groan, cursing under my breath. “Thank you!” I reply in a bright voice.
“You have to go?” Chloe presses.
“Duty calls,” I sing. “It was so good to see you girls.”
“It was great to see you, too,” Izzy offers.
“Let’s make a plan to do this every week,” Evie says. “You need some normalcy in your life. Let us be that for you.”
I beam. “I’d really like that.”
“We would, too,” Chloe states. “Now go. Be a fucking princess.”
“Okay. I’ll go be a fucking princess. Love you girls.”
“We love you, too.”
I blow a kiss to my friends, then end the call before dragging myself from my bed for another day of learning how to be a princess.
Or, as Chloe puts it, a fucking princess.
I like the sound of that much better.
But that still doesn’t solve my Anderson/Prince Gabriel problem.
Can I really promise my life to a man I barely know just for the brief glimpses I get of Anderson?
What if those brief glimpses become fewer and fewer until Prince Gabriel swallows him up entirely?
Is Prince Gabriel a man I want to be with?
I wish I knew how to answer that.
Chapter Twenty
Anderson
“If you ask me, it was kind of a dick move,” Esme snips out, not holding back at all. I didn’t expect her to. She never does.
“What choice did I have?” I throw up my hands as I sit in the director’s office of a local children’s home where we’ll play with some of the kids and read them a story, all to promote literacy and bring attention to the need for more families to open their homes to foster children, a cause Esme champions regularly. “Grandmother fell ill. Someone had to meet the Queen of England.”
“It didn’t have to be you,” she argues, arms crossed.
“You know damn well it did, Esme. When the Queen of England comes, either the queen mother or the highest-ranking member of the royal family must go. Since Father was out of town—”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if she wasn’t sick at all and only canceled to keep you from going to Nora’s appointment.”
I wave her off, not voicing that I had the same concerns. “It wasn’t just the doctor’s appointment. That was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.” I pull my lips between my teeth, resting my forearms on my legs as the previous night’s conversation plays on repeat, like it has all morning. “She claims she doesn’t even know who I am,” I manage to say through the lump in my throat.
“And rightly so,” Esme agrees.
I furrow my brow, darting my eyes toward her. “What do you mean?”
She smooths a few strands of her golden blonde hair behind her ear, then saunters toward me. Always one to shun expectations and protocol, she’s dressed in a sleeveless blouse tucked into a pair of skinny jeans that make her long legs appear even longer. And as a big middle finger to the establishment, she wears a pair of wedge sandals with her toes peeking through — two big no-nos.
Then there’s me, the picture of conformity — crisp suit, cleanly shaven face, tie that’s begun to feel more like a noose than an accessory.
“Since the news of your engagement broke, she’s been immersed in this world she’s had absolutely no previous experience with. She’s expected to jump right in, feet first, and become a princess, wife, and royal in mere weeks? Remember how you felt when you were pulled out of school, sent to London, and forced to learn a new way of life almost overnight?”
I lower my head, nodding slowly.
“Well, for Nora, it’s even harder. At least we had some exposure to all of this first. She never has. When we were ripped from our world, what was the one thing we had that helped us through it all?”
“Each other,” I admit, looking around the room. The linoleum floor is cracked, and some of the tiles in the ceiling show signs of water damage. Books fill the shelves lining the far wall, many of their bindings worn. It’s a rude awakening to visit places like this. Makes me even more grateful for all the opportunities I’ve had.
“Precisely, Anders.” She sits on the couch beside me, taking my hands in hers. “We had each other. With everything else in our world turned upside down, we were able to find comfort and stability in the idea that we were still the same people we were back in the country, riding horses and getting covered in mud. But Nora…” She shakes her head. “She boarded that plane expecting to start a life with Anderson North, but instead came face-to-face with Prince Gabriel of Belmont.”