They’re surrounding me on all sides.
“Zara, are you sleeping with the prince?”
“What’s James like in bed?”
“Will you be the future Queen?”
I’m being pushed from side to side. A violent shove from behind sends my bag skidding across the sidewalk. Everything is flying out. Bending over, I try to scoop it all up when it happens in quick succession. A camera gets shoved right in my face, throwing me to the side. I can’t focus on the jolt of pain, because my violin is next to hit the ground. The crunching sound of the bag over the crowd is crushing.
“No!” The initial shock has worn off as I start to push my way through. “Back up, you vultures!” Grabbing the case, the tinkle of wood stings my heart. My most prized possession is likely damaged beyond repair. Shoving everything in my purse, I hurry to the security of my house. Thank God for the gate.
The chaos behind me fades away as my trembling hands unlock the door and I rush inside. Tears prick my eyes. Setting my violin down with all the care in the world, I grab my phone and dial James.
He answers on the first ring. “Hey there, fiancée.”
“J-James?” I stutter, not hiding the panic in my voice.
“Zara. Are you alright?” All lightness in his tone is gone. “Is everything okay?”
“No. There were paparazzi waiting for me at my house.”
“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up before I can get another word in.
Looking in the mirror, an angry red cut mars my cheek. What in the world will the students think tomorrow?
Hot tears stream down my face. It’s a struggle to catch my breath as I collapse into the safety of my sofa. How in the world did they find me? The house isn’t listed in my name. Will I have to fight my way through them every day now? Will I have any privacy anymore? Panicked thoughts race through my head as the commotion outside hits a new high.
A pounding on my door has me hiding behind the wall. Are they able to get on private property? Aren’t there laws against this?
“Zara? Open up. It’s James.” Rushing to the door, I confirm it’s him and pull the door open, hiding behind it.
“Are you alright?” He pulls me into his arms, but not before I see his security officers escorting the paparazzi away.
I only shake my head, my throat clogged with emotions. I squeeze him tighter to me. The spicy scent of his cologne soothes my frazzled nerves. If I could burrow into his arms, I’d stay here.
His hands smoothing my hair back is calming. The stubble on his neck is scratchy, grounding me.
“What happened, Zara?” He pulls back, cupping my face. Anger churns in his eyes.
I walk away, seeing my violin case. My heart is in a vise as I open the case. “I was walking home from school, and they were there. I don’t know how there were so many of them on me all at once, but I couldn’t get away. They were shoving me, and then they knocked my purse and violin out of my hands.”
My stomach drops to my feet as I see the damage done. My most prized possession is broken. My mum’s violin. One of the few memories I have of my mum is her playing for me on this violin. And now it’s shards of wood and string tangled together. James’s warm hand is on my shoulder.
“Can we fix it?”
I slam the lid shut. “No! We cannot fix it!” Rage is coursing through my veins. “It is a custom-made violin from California. You cannot fix it! It was a wedding gift from my dad to my mum. I don’t know if they even make these anymore.” The tears won’t stop. Forget the ache in my face. The ache in my heart is splitting me in two.
“I’ll make this right. I don’t know how, but please, Zara, let me help.”
I stalk away from him, heading through the short hallway into the dining area. I need a drink. Pulling off the stopper, I take a swig of scotch, wincing as it goes down. I have it for when Dad comes to visit. But tonight? Tonight, it’s needed.
“I thought I’d have more time.” I’m staring down into the crystal bottle. Did my life just become public fodder for the entire world to see? Sure, my students knowing is one thing. But I’m not quite prepared for billions of people to know my name.
“I’m so sorry, Zara.” The heat of James’s body is behind me as I take another hit of the scotch. “Okay, if you don’t slow down, I’ll be carrying you to bed.” James grabs the bottle from my hand, setting it down behind me. “I usually like a woman to be sober when I take her to bed for the first time.”
He tries to break the tension settling over me. It does little to quell the racing thoughts in my head.
“How am I going to navigate my life? Will they be out there all the time now?” I wave towards the window.
