“Not like this. Please, don’t go like this.”
He looked so unlike himself. He wore the same tailored clothes, but they appeared crumpled and disheveled, as if they were a signifier of the panic she saw covering him.
“Regina, I promise you, if you want to leave, I will have my pilot take you to Nyeusi first thing in the morning. But please, please don’t leave me like this. I couldn’t survive it if something…”
He let the rest of his words die off in the silence. Nonetheless, she was certain he’d intended to finish that sentence with the words,happened to you.
Puzzle pieces clicked into place as she read between the lines.
“They died on a boat, didn’t they?”
He couldn’t seem to speak. Instead, he gave a single nod as an answer. His breathing started coming fast.
“Please,” he stammered. “Just don’t—” Again he couldn’t finish his sentence. He was almost frantic with fear and nervous energy. This man was truly afraid. Seeing him like this, it broke something in her. Suddenly she forgot how hurt and angry she was, and she found herself pulling him into her arms, holding him and rubbing his back in an attempt to get him to calm down before he started hyperventilating.
“I’m fine. The baby’s fine. You don’t need to be afraid. I’ll get off the ferry.”
He held her tighter. His body was literally shaking in her arms. This was so out of character for Aléx. He was always calm to the point he was almost stoic. Yes, he’d come out of his shell more as they’d spent more time together. Never, not one single time in the eight months of their marriage, had he ever come this undone in her presence.
He stood there holding her for a long time until he could get himself together, and then he took her hand and helped her onto the dock.
“I promise, I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave. I just need you to give me a chance to explain before you make up your mind. I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m not above begging for that grace.”
There was a car waiting for them, and he helped her inside before he walked around to the driver’s side and got in. The drive was silent, both too afraid to break the fragile truce that had her agreeing to return to the palace with him.
Truly, there was no other choice. He had looked as if he were going to explode with fright if she’d refused to get off the ferry. With how anxious he was, she truly believed he wouldn’t have survived if she left on that boat before he’d had the chance to stop her.
He drove with one hand, keeping the other clasped around hers as though he were afraid she would float away if he weren’t acting as her anchor.
From the time they exited the car, he took her hand again. He directed her down a path that would keep them away from the guests they’d left in the ballroom. It led directly to their private quarters.
She’d expected him to stop in the drawing room, but he didn’t. He kept walking down the corridor until they were standing in front of that door that had changed everything in the blink of an eye.
He placed his thumb on the keypad, and the lock clicked loudly. He gave her hand a squeeze, as if to tell her to prepare herself, before he held the door open and let her walk in, following quickly behind her.
He grabbed the picture frame before he walked over to the rocker in the corner, motioning for her to sit.
Refusing to let her hand go, he used his foot to position the ottoman right in front of her so he could keep hold of her. It was as if he needed this connection, partly to remind himself she was still here, and partly because he was afraid of her slipping away.
“As the heir to the throne, there are so few choices you have about your life. Who I’d become, where I’d go to school, how my coronation would be planned, even my funeral. All these things were known to me from the moment I can remember being conscious about who my mother was and, by extension, who I would be.”
She wanted to reach out to him, soothe the sadness in his voice. Yet she somehow knew if she interrupted him, he might not ever be able to tell her this story to its completion.
“The only thing my mother wouldn’t allow to be chosen for me was my bride. Jasiri’s father had won his fight against arranged marriages when he married Jasiri’s mother. She thought that her son should have the same choice.”
He looked up at her, giving her a weary smile before he continued.
“I met Farah and her sister my last year of my graduate program at university. The three of us were great friends and we became comfortable around each other. They were part of the aristocracy, so like me, they knew they had to be wary of what kinds of friends and connections they made, because there was always someone waiting in the shadows to take advantage.
“Of the two sisters, it was Farah who hated everything that had to do with life at court. Her sister, on the other hand, didn’t share the same reticence. As time went on, I began to distance myself from her sister because it became clear that she didn’t just have an affinity for court. She was angling for something greater, to be the next queen. As a result, my friendship with her sister faded. I thought that would mean losing Farah too, but ourfriendship deepened. We sort of just fell into this comfortable pattern that led to us dating seriously.”
“I bet her sister didn’t like that.”
The slight curve of his lip confirmed her suspicions. Apparently, Regina and Reigna weren’t the first set of sisters to upend this man’s life.
“Two years into our romantic relationship, I proposed. It just made sense that we would marry. We grew up in the same world. We both preferred to be out of the limelight. We got on fabulously. But when I asked for her hand, she said no. Two days later, I went to find her to try to convince her to change her mind. Her sister told me she’d left the day before, and the family had no idea where she’d gone.”
“Don’t tell me her sister decided then was her chance to shoot her shot?”
