The Thrill Is Gone

“You don’t think mom and dad suspect anything, do you?” she asked as they pulled into the airport parking lot. “Because I’ve tried to be cool about it, nonchalant and stuff, but I don’t know . . . I guess it just sort of feels like I’ve got this huge stamp across my forehead saying that I’m pregnant. And it’s fucking unnerving, because I’ve tried to be fine, like nothing’s changed, but everything’s changed.” She nervously began rubbing her belly. “And I can’t help but think that everyone knows I’m pregnant. That just by looking at me, they can tell.”

“Calm down, chunky butt.” Luis told her as he searched for a parking spot. “No one suspects anything.”

“But I think they do,” she told him. “Especially since I threw up this morning, and I couldn’t eat the chiles rellenos that mom made for dinner. I fucking love those things! But when she gave me my plate, I seriously felt like throwing up because they smelled like shit. I don’t know why they smelled so bad, but it was awful, and I think she knew. Because why else would I not eat chiles rellenos?”

“You’re just psyching yourself out.” Luis said as he pulled into a free spot. “No one suspects anything, believe me. If they did, mom would come to me right away. She’d want me to check you out and run tests, but she hasn’t done that. She thinks you’re fine.”

“Well then why does she think I’m going to England so suddenly? I thought she’d suspect something since I’ve been gaining weight.”

“You’ve been gaining back the weight you lost.” Luis reminded. “And anyway, she just thinks you’re eating well again, because according to her, they weren’t feeding you right over there.”

“Bullshit!” she exclaimed.

“I fucking put it down,” he told her. “Mom was talking mad shit, kept going on about how they were starving you and that whenever they did get around to feeding you they just gave you that shit British food.”

“Hold on there, I thought you liked British food.”

“I do.”

“You just said it was shit.”

“Because mom thinks its shit.” He said, very matter-of-factly.

“Does she really?”

“Yeah.” He took the key from the ignition. “When we went over there, she hated the actual British cuisine. That’s why she actively avoided them after the second day.”

“That’s why she kept saying we should eat at Italian places,” said Paulina, suddenly realizing why her mother had been so adamant over what they ate.

“Because the Italians never fuck it up.” He knew that to be his mother’s personal mantra when it came to picking restaurants. “Man, we got way off topic, but the point I was trying to make is that mom doesn’t suspect anything. So relax. Just relax. Stressing out isn’t gonna do you any favors and it’s not good for Thea. She needs her mama to rest up.”

“I know she does.” Paulina agreed, softly. “It’s just hard though, ever since I found out I’m pregnant, I’ve been trying to figure things out and it’s getting to be a little overwhelming. You know? I need to figure out how to tell Henry, and how to tell mom and dad, and how to tell Rafa and Adrian, not to mention how we’re gonna tell his family – especially his grandma. I mean, she likes me now, but I don’t know how she’ll take the news. I’m hoping it’ll go over somewhat smoothly. She can yell at me if she wants. I’m ready for that. I only hope she’ll come around in the end, because I really want her to be a part of Thea’s life.” A little smile played across her lips. “Because the Queen might be a bitch on occasion, but she’s such an amazing woman. I know I probably sound crazy saying that, what with our history, but it’s true. Despite everything that happened between me and her, I can’t help but be in awe of her. And I hope she’ll be a part of my daughter’s life.”

“And she will be.” Luis assured. “You just have to give it time and stop worrying, because you don’t have to tell our parents or brothers on your own, and you definitely don’t have to tell his family on your own. That’s something you’ll do with Henry.” He reached over for her hand. “All you have to do is tell him.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know I’m gonna do it.” She momentarily closed her eyes. “I mean, how do you tell someone you’re pregnant? Do you try to be cute about? Clever? I’ve done a lot of Youtube-ing and Google-ing, and there are so many fucking ways to do it, but I haven’t seen one I liked.” She paused and fixed her gaze on her brother. “If you were Henry, how would you want to be told?”

“Directly,” he answered without hesitation. “I wouldn’t want any fuss. That whole cute and funny thing isn’t for me. I’d just want to be sat down and told. And I think Harry would want that as well.”

“Can it really be that simple though?” In her head, it had to be more complicated. All the stories she’d read spoke of elaborate plans that women had gone through to tell their significant others, and she felt that if she didn’t put a lot of effort into telling him, she’d be failing. “I feel like there has to be something more.”

“Then make him dinner.”

“That’s actually a really good idea. And it’ll work out since we’re gonna stay at his dad’s and not a hotel.” She pursed her lips together, thinking about which day was best. “I won’t be able to do it tomorrow since he doesn’t get off training until six, and he probably won’t get to London until after eight, but Saturday might work. Yeah, definitely Saturday . . . I’ll wake up early, go to the market, come back, we’ll hang out and then I’ll make his favorite dinner and dessert, and once we’re done with that, I’ll tell him.”

“And it’ll be fine.” He smiled reassuringly. “Now stop rubbing your belly and let’s get going. Your ass has a plane to catch.”

“Right,” she took in a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. “But before we go, I just wanted to thank you again. I know you said not to, but thanks for being there for me this whole week and for dropping me off at the airport and listening to me ramble. It seriously means so much to me. You’ve no idea, how much.” Her voice cracked. “Without you, I – well, I don’t know what would’ve become of me. This has been a tough week, and having you there for me has made it at all the better.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He ruffled her hair affectionately. “I promised to always be there for you and the baby, and I’m a man of my word. And if for any reason you don’t feel like making this trip alone, know that I’m down to fly out with you. I can call in sick tomorrow. It won’t be a big deal or anything. That way you can have some company during those ten and a half hours, and I can make sure you get to Alfred’s safely.”

“Thanks for offering, but I’ll be okay.” And she meant it. “The flight’s no big deal. I’ve been at it for over a year, so I’m definitely used to it. I’m just hoping that there won’t be any motion sickness. Not that I think I should have any, I’ve never had it during any of the flights in the past, but there’s always a chance now that Thea’s growing, but yeah, I should be fine. Alfie’s gonna pick me up from the airport. He’s gonna go straight from work, and then once he picks me up, I’ll hang out at his place until Henry shows up for me. So breathe easy, Luisito. I’ll be well looked after.”

“You better be or else asses are gonna get kicked.”

“You’re so lame!” she said with a laugh.

“Says the person who practically knows Pride and Prejudice by heart.”

“I fail to see how that makes me lame.” She took off her seatbelt. “Now let’s get going or else we won’t even be able to get out of the car without being swarmed.”

“Ugh.” He frowned in displeasure. “I’d almost forgotten about them.”

“Soon enough you’ll be able to, at least for a couple days, because once I get on that plane, they’ll get on the next one out.” She grabbed her purse off the floor. “That reminds me, would you mind taking the lead when we get out there? I figure that if you’re out in front, there’s no way that they’ll be able to bump into my belly.”

“You insult me.” He told her. “Of course, I’m gonna take the lead. There’s no way in hell I’m letting any of those fuckers bump into Thea.”

A massive grin erupted across her face. She couldn’t help but be delighted at the fact that her brother was referring to the baby as Thea. It was a silly thing to be excited over, she knew it was, but she couldn’t help it. She loved knowing that she had him on her side, knowing that his heart had already opened up to his future niece.

“What you smiling about?” he asked her when they exited the car.

“You,” she answered simply. “And how lucky she’s gonna be to have you as an uncle and godfather.”

“She’ll be the envy of children everywhere.” Luis made his way over to the trunk so that he could grab her duffle bag. “It was just the duffle bag and the blanket, right?”

“Mhm,” she replied as she slung her purse across her shoulder. “I’m traveling light this time.”

“You sure you gonna have enough clothes?”

She nodded. “I’m only staying the weekend, but if Henry wants me to stay longer, I’ve got some clothes stashed at Alfie’s. So I’m set.”

Nothing further was said by the siblings, Luis simply offered her his hand, and then led her through the parking lot. They went undisturbed in the concrete structure, but the moment they ventured into the open, they were surrounded. The press that stood outside their home had tipped off their contacts at the airport that Paulina would be traveling, and since she always flew British Airways, they were all at the entrance, anxiously awaiting her arrival. The moment they spotted her, they swarmed her, creating a paparazzi cocoon around her. Thankfully, the bastards weren’t able to get up into her face and bump into her like they usually did. Luis made sure of that. He kept a firm grip on her hand, and had her so close to his body that no one could’ve squeezed in there, and she was grateful for it, because that meant no one could bump into her belly, because if any of them had accidentally elbowed her there like they had in the past or knocked her off balance, she would’ve fucking lost it and punched someone.

When they stepped inside the Tom Bradley International Terminal, the security personnel intervened and asked the photographers to remain outside. There were a few who spoke out against that and told the security that they were allowed to be inside, that there wasn’t any rule that stated members of the press had to be out on the curb, but the security remained firm. They had the right to limit where the press had access to, and as such, they told them that they could either remain outside on the curb or in the arrivals area, or be forcibly removed from the premises. No one argued after that, and Paulina had to fight back the urge to give those security guards a big hug and kiss on the cheek. They had spared her the trouble of dealing with those bastard any further.

“The lines not too bad,” observed Luis when they reached the British Airways section. “We’ll have you through in no time.”

“And then I’ll have the pleasure of being groped by a TSA agent.”

“Why don’t you just go through the scanner?” he asked, ignorant of how silly his question was. “Spare yourself the trouble.”

“Repeat that question and try not to smack yourself for sounding like such an idiot.”

“Why would I sound like an – oh!” he exclaimed, suddenly realizing his sister’s motives for wishing to steer clear of the body scanner. “I hadn’t even fucking thought of that. I thought you were just tripping out, because – well, you know. But yeah. Your ass definitely can’t go through there.” He paused as he scratched at the base of his neck. “Don’t worry though, they won’t grope you too much.”

“They better not, because I’m not in the mood for their bullshit.” She didn’t want a stranger to pat her down. She hardly felt comfortable touching herself lately. Her body just felt off. It was struggling to accommodate the growing baby within her. “I mean, I get that they want to keep us safe. But at what cost? How much privacy has to be given up? I think that just walking through the metal detector should be enough, but no, they like to complicate things. As if traveling isn’t enough of a pain.” She sighed as she massaged the bridge of her nose. “But whatever, it has to be endured.”

“It’ll be worth it though.” Luis actively avoided telling her to stop being so dramatic. He didn’t want to risk upsetting her. “You’ll have a smiling ginger on the other end, and you’ll stow away with him at his dad’s place, but your ass better remember to give us a call. We’re not expecting to hear from you daily, that’s excessive, but just call once you get to Alfred’s and on Sunday morning.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Not long after, Paulina checked in with the airline and was given her boarding pass, which had once again been upgraded to first class. The first time that happened, she’d thought it had been her lucky day. The second time, she thought the company was trying to cozy up to her. It wasn’t until the third that she began to suspect the Queen had a hand in the matter, and sure enough, when she asked the Queen if she was the reason her coach tickets were being upgraded to first class, the Queen smiled slyly in confirmation.

An earlier incarnation of Paulina would’ve protested against the upgrade. She would’ve called it an unnecessary gesture and viewed it with distrust, but now, she knew in her heart that the Queen simply meant to do well. Her Majesty did it out of the goodness of her heart and a desire to ensure the comfort of a loved one. And against that, Paulina could not protest. She could appreciate and be grateful for the upgrades, which was why whenever she was in Her Majesty’s company, she thanked her, despite the Queen saying there was no need to.

With her boarding pass in hand, she and her brother proceeded to the security checkpoint where they would part ways. They didn’t move quickly, it wasn’t like they were being hounded by the photographers. Those assholes had been kept outside by the airport security, and as such, Paulina and Luis enjoyed the luxury of being able to move like regular people. They talked a little during the walk, not about things that actually mattered, but just stuff. He told her that when she got back, they had to go watch The Other Guys.

“For sure,” she told her brother when they reached the security area. “There’s no way that movie’s gonna be bad. I mean, it’s Will Ferrell. Even when his movies are dumb, they’re hilarious, and adding Mark Wahlberg to the mix just seals the deal for me. So yeah, we’ll definitely go see it.”

“And we can sneak some snacks in.”

“But of course,” she said, smiling warmly all the while. “I’ll look forward to our outing, but for now, I think it’s goodbye. Only until Sunday though – I think. You are gonna pick me up, right? Or is dad?”

“I am.” He confirmed. “Just let me know if you are coming back then. If not, give me a head’s up you do get around to coming back. I’ll be good to pick you up whenever.”

“Thanks Luis.” She was starting to get nervous about traveling on her own. “I’ll see you soon. Okay? And I love you”

“Love you to, chunky butt.” He ruffled her hair. “Now let me give you your bag. Here we go.” He took it off his shoulders and placed it on hers. “Feel good?”

She nodded.

“Awesome.” He fixed the strap for her. “Call me if you need anything. Alright? I don’t care what time it is, just call me. And if for any reason you need me there, let me know and I’ll be on the first flight out.”

“Quit worrying, I’ll be fine.” She took in a deep breath. “Ahora persigna me (Do the sign of the cross for me).”

Luis did the sign of the cross on his sister and then whispered, “Dios te cuide y te guarde. Que bendiga tu corazón y tu mente y te de la fortaleza para lo que ve viene. Amen. (May God take care and protect you. May he bless your heart and your mind and give you the strength for what’s to come. Amen.).” It felt strange saying it. His parents were always the ones that uttered the blessings, but he knew his sister was slightly paranoid about flying, and despite her parents having blessed her before she left the house, she still wanted her brother to do it. “I love you. Never forget that.” He kissed her forehead. “Now go and look after yourself.”

Paulina nodded, but said nothing. She was on the verge of bursting into tears, so she simply pressed her brother’s hand affectionately and then turned to leave. Had she said anything or hugged him again or kiss his cheeks, the tears would’ve started. She could feel them welling in her eyes, it was her emotions and hormones, and she didn’t want them to get the best of her. So she pushed on. She placed her baggage on the screening point, and when the TSA agent tried to get her to move through the body scanner, she declared that she preferred the pat down. The look on the agent’s face made it clear that he wasn’t in the mood for it, so he called over a female agent, who ran the metal detecting wand up and down Paulina’s body and whom then patted her down for good measure.

It was a waste of four minutes, but it was a necessary waste. And quick as she could, Paulina slipped on her shoes and coat, and proceeded to walk down the corridor to situate herself in the British Airways terminal. She’d intended to spend the next few hours dozing off in an uncomfortable airport seat, but while she was making her way there, she caught a whiff of freshly made pizza. Needless to say, she never made it to the seat. Instead she ordered herself a margherita pizza, and devoured it. The taste was phenomenal, she didn’t know if it was so good because she was pregnant or because it was made it in a wood burning oven, but it was delicious, and when she finished eating it, she felt satisfied enough to knock out during the entire flight.

And that was exactly what she ended up doing. With sleep filled eyes, she boarded the plane and stowed away her belongings, the only things she left out were her blanket and a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice. She thought she’d spend half the flight reading, that seemed about right, considering the fact that during most flights, she was busy doing coursework, but the moment she sat down on the comfortable chair and reclined it, she was a goner. She was far too comfortable to stay awake, so she dozed off instead. She fell into a deep, dreamless slumber, which was convenient, because if she’d been dreaming, she would’ve been muttering, and lately, the only thing she’d been dreaming and muttering about was the baby on the way.

Ten and a half hours after having initially fallen asleep, Paulina was awoken by a stewardess. The young woman had been standing in front of her for the better part of five minutes, trying to figure out how to best wake her. She was well aware of who Paulina was, and as such, was determined to treat her just as she would royalty, but the problem was that she’d never met a Royal before. She didn’t know if she should curtsey, what tone of voice to use, or if she should even wake her up, because she could end up being a massive grouch and things could turn out horribly if she were to complain about the treatment received. It was those thoughts that kept the young woman from waking the sleeping passenger. In fact, it would’ve been a lot longer, if another stewardess hadn’t sent an annoyed look her away.

“Miss,” she spoke in an amiable tone. “Miss, do wake up. We’ve landed.”

No response.

“Miss Balcázar,” she continued, thinking that by adding a last name, she would wake. “It’s time to get up. The flight’s over.”

Still, no response. Had Paulina been any other passenger, the stewardess would’ve opted to shake her a bit, not roughly of course, but gently – only to rouse her. Not wanting to touch her, but knowing that shaking would be necessary, the stewardess grabbed hold of the seat and gently shook it.

“Miss,” she spoke amiably as she shook the seat. “Miss Paulina . . .”

The combination of lightly shaking the seat and calling her by her name, was enough to wake Paulina. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and she was so comfortable that for a moment, she thought she was laying in her own bed at home, but when she saw the stewardess smiling face, she remembered that she was far from Azusa.

“Something wrong?” she asked, groggily.

“Nothing at all, Miss.” The stewardess replied, smiling all the while. “I was only trying to wake you.”

“Have we landed?” Her eyes were half opened, but she was making an effort to sit up.

“We have.” The young woman confirmed. “Quite some time ago. The other passengers already disembarked.”

“No fucking way.” Paulina blurted out, and when she realized what she said, she covered her mouth and stared up at the stewardess in horror. “Sorry!” she apologized, suddenly wide awake. “I’m so sorry about cursing like that. It’s just that I didn’t think we were already here. It seriously feels like we barely left LA.” Her cheeks took on a rosier color as she rambled on. “I could’ve sworn I just got on, but now we’re here! And I am so sorry about this.” She was standing up now, and had thrown her blanket over her shoulder. “The last thing you need is to be dealing with a passenger who just won’t leave. Give me a moment, and I’ll be out of here. I only need to get my bag and –”

“It’s already been brought down for you, Miss.” The stewardess motioned to the duffel bag that was waiting on the next chair over. “And there’s no need to apologize. It’s a true pleasure to have had you on our flight.”

“You’re far too kind.”

“Not at all,” the young woman reassured, smiling brightly.

“Well thank you for saying that. And it was a pleasure to have you as my wake up call. Hopefully you’ll be working during my flight back to LA.” She paused as she slung her duffle bag across her shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going.”

That said, she made her way out of the airplane and into the long corridor that would eventually lead her to the UK Border Controls area. She’d wandered in hoping that there wouldn’t be too many people in there, the last thing she wanted was to be waiting around in a crowded room, but much to her dismay, the area was packed. It was as if all the tourists had decided to descend on London at that precise moment, and she had no choice but to get in line and hope that it wouldn’t be too time consuming. She didn’t want to keep Alfred waiting around at the arrivals area and now that she was fully conscious, she was aware of just how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten during the ten and a half hour flight and her gut was rumbling over it. She needed to get food and orange juice. That was all she could think about while she waited in line. She was so focused on satisfying her hunger and thirst, that she didn’t even notice the looks that were being shot her way or the whispers or even the phones and cameras that were being taken out to photograph her.

Much to her dismay, getting through the UK Border Control took the better part of two hours. Far too many flights had landed at the same time and as if that wasn’t enough, there was a system malfunction that prevented the Border officials from electronically pulling up each person’s information. They couldn’t cross reference the image on file to that on the passport, and they couldn’t pull up the fingerprints. They were blind, left with only the hardcopy passport that each person had brought with them, and instead of verifying each individual passport and checking the luggage to allow them to move through, they decided to make everyone wait half an hour for the system to get back on line.

The prolonged wait was a painful one for Paulina. Her legs were hurting and her back was starting to play up again. Not to mention she was starving. Her stomach was growling like there was no tomorrow, and she cursed herself for not having woken up to eat during the flight. The First Class food was always phenomenal, and if she had just woken up, she wouldn’t have been so miserable, but she hadn’t and she was. And she had to deal with it, because there was no cutting in line. The only way to clear security quickly was if you were in a wheelchair or if you were a member of the EU, but seeing as how she was neither, she was forced to remain standing. She was tired, uncomfortable, and hungry, and when she was selected for the random bag search, she felt like throwing a fucking fit. She wasn’t in the mood to walk off to a side area were a stranger would then rummage through her bag, especially when it was only a duffle bag and not actual luggage.

And anyway, what were the odds of her brining in anything illegal to the UK? She was dating a fucking Prince, her duffle bag would obviously be fine. They should’ve known it’d all be in order, but no, they pulled her off to the side, and took every last thing out. Her blouses were taken out, her jeans, a couple dresses, her pajamas, her underwear, her fucking bras, her vitamins – everything! Everything was taken out, and while they did that, she watched on in displeasure. Her features betrayed the immense annoyance she felt. She was so exhausted and irritable that she couldn’t fake the smile she usually had on in public. All she wanted was to be cleared and allowed to get the hell out of there, because Alfred was waiting. And he had been waiting for the last hour and a half, because despite having been told that it’d probably take her an hour to get through Border Control, Alfred had taken it upon himself to arrive only thirty minutes after her flight had been scheduled to land. He simply didn’t want to risk her waiting around. It wasn’t like she’d just be able to sit down in some nook and read or mess around on her phone, she’d be a target, because at the arrivals gate, there were always photographers waiting to see what famous person would show up. And if they saw her, they’d descend and they wouldn’t give her a moment’s peace, so Alfred sacrificed his comfort to ensure hers.

When she finally emerged into the arrivals area, Alfred didn’t complain about having waited around for such a long time. He didn’t even try to joke about it like her brother’s would’ve. He simply smiled and said it was good to see her, and he meant it. It might’ve only been a few weeks since he’d last seen her, but it had been long enough for him to miss her. She was a dear friend and corresponding via e-mail and Skype was nice, but it’d always be better to see her in person.

“Come on Alfie,” she said, affectionately. “You can smile all you want, but if you don’t hug me, I won’t believe you’re happy to see me!”

“Since when is hugging necessary?”

“Since always.” She grinned, and it was a sincere grin. Being in his presence was enough to make her forger how annoyed she’d been throughout the last two hours. Was she still tired? Yes. Hungry? Absolutely, but she was also happy. “So you better hug me and it better be a good one.”

“If you insist . . .” He did his best to appear nonchalant, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

When Alfred pulled away from the hug, he was able to get a proper look at his friend. He expected to see the playful glint in her eyes, the one he’d come to know so well, but there was nothing lighthearted about them. The rest of her face might’ve seem pleased, she might’ve been wearing a massive grin, but the happiness of her grin didn’t reach her eyes. Instead there was worry in them, apprehension. It was at that moment that Alfred realized she hadn’t flown out to England just because she missed Harry. Something was up. What it was, he hadn’t a clue, but for her to be there, looking the way she did, it had to have been something serious.

“Alfie,” she spoke up after a prolonged silence. “Alfred, what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” he absentmindedly said. “What was that?”

“Nothing, I was only asking if anything wrong. You sort of zoned out.”

“Did I?”

She nodded.

“Sorry about that. Old age is getting to me.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Olivia’s more than happy to look after you.”

“Perhaps,” replied Alfred, grinning all the while. “Now onto more pressing matters, where’s your luggage?”

“I already got it.”

“Only the one?” he asked in reference to her duffle bag.

She nodded. “It’s only a short stay.”

“Well then, hand it over. I refuse to have you carrying it about.”

“It’s not heavy.”

“We both know there’s no point in arguing. I will be carrying that bag, so the quicker the better.”

“Always such a gentleman, Alfie.” She handed over her duffle bag. “This is why you’re a fancy man who drives around in a barouche and will one day have a lovely wife by the name of Olivia.”

“And will there be darling children?” he went alone with her teasing as they began to make their way out.

“But of course,” she told him. “At least, three.”

They didn’t talk much after that. The press soon spotted them and swarmed. Paulina had hoped to have a few more minutes of anonymity. She would’ve loved to have at least reached the door before she was surrounded and put on display, but that didn’t happen. The photographers were determined to get as many shots of her as possible, because the tabloids and gossip blogs were most certainly going to be talking about her sudden return to London. It was the most interesting thing that had happened that week. At least in the realm of Royalty and celebrities.

Alfred had parked relatively nearby, but despite that, it was a long walk. They couldn’t move freely, not with the photographers surrounding them. It would’ve been nice, if they’d just been surrounded on three sides, that way they’d be able to move forwards freely, but no, there were some idiots that were risking injury just to be able to get a clear shot of her face. Those photographers were literally walking backwards, and one of them almost tripped. He was just fortunate enough to have been helped out by a passing person.

Upon reaching Alfred’s car, Paulina went straight into the passenger’s seat. Alfred had initially planned to put the duffel bag in the trunk, but not wanting to deal with the paparazzi any longer, he got into the car with it and then awkwardly maneuvered himself so that he could place it in the back seat. With the duffel bag safely in the back, he was going to pull out and speed off, but the press tried to force them to remain in the parking spot by surrounding the car on all side. They were lined up along the sides, on the back, right in the front, and for a moment, Alfred was dumbstruck. How could these people risk their lives by standing behind a car when it’s clear the driver just wants to get the fuck out of there? How could they earn their living like that? He felt bad for working for Barclays, he was ashamed of himself, and often thought that there was nothing lower than his profession, but as he looked at those people eagerly taking pictures, he decided that they were just as bad as bankers, they only cared about their selfish gain.

Not wanting to deal with them any further, Alfred warningly revved the engine. The noise succeeded in startling the photographers, and they were sensible enough to clear out from the back. Alfred took that opportunity to back out and drive them to his home. He knew they were going to have a decent head start on the photographers, and he intended to make the most of it. He drove a couple miles over the speed limit, went through shortcuts, and when they arrived at his home, there weren’t any photographers waiting for them.

“Pardon the mess,” said Alfred as they walked into his home. “I meant to do a bit of tidying up last night, but it didn’t quite work out.”

“What are you talking about? It looks fine.” And it was true. There was a little clutter, but nothing overwhelming.

“Lies,” he said with a smile and then locked the door behind him. “Now then, I know you’re not meant to spend the night, but if you feel inclined to, you can. The beddings been changed and it’s quite ready to be used. Prince Harry can stay if he likes as well, since he’ll be getting here so late.”

“Thanks Alfie. I appreciate the offer, but Harry’s set on staying at his dad’s place.” She explained. “It’s not too far from here so we’ll be fine.”

“In any case, if you fancy taking a nap or anything or having a shower, you’re welcomed to. I know how exhausting it is to fly from the States to here.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” she felt it’d be rude to shower when she only had an hour before Harry was meant to arrive.

“Not at all.” He assured her, and truthfully, he wanted the time to tidy up for when Harry arrived. “I’ve left a fresh towel in the bathroom. It’s a beige one. And there’s that shampoo you’re so fond of.”

“Alfred, you shouldn’t have troubled yourself with getting that.”

“Trouble? What trouble? It’s only a bit of shampoo. Now off you go, have yourself a shower and when you come down, I’ll have tea waiting.”

Wanting to have as much quality time with Alfred as she possibly could, Paulina opted to simply wash her body. She’d straightened her hair earlier that morning, so it’d be fine without a wash for another day or two. She scrubbed vigorously, wanting to take off the flight and the two hours of waiting in line, and when she finished, she slipped on the simple pink dress she’d brought along for the occasion. Harry loved her in pink and red, so she figured it’d be best to play that up. She needed to ensure that he she looked her absolute best, that’s why she put on earrings and a bracelet and wore her necklace, that’s why she reapplied her makeup and fixed her hair. She had to look beautiful for him, because if she looked beautiful, he wouldn’t suspect what was happening.

By the time she reentered the living room, Alfred had already finished tidying up and had even brought in the tea. He was an excellent host to those he cared for, and as such, he was attentive to Paulina, having procured her favorite shampoo and body wash and having even made her favorite tea and served it with an assortment of her preferred biscuits

“Sit down,” he told her, motioning to his best armchair. “I’ll fix up your tea. Still take it with a teaspoon of honey?”

“Is it pasteurized?” she found herself asking, remembering that her brother had told her to stick with pasteurized honey.

“Don’t know actually.” Alfred thought it a strange question. “I can check. Let me have a look at the label. I know for certain it’s organic, but – ah! It’s unpasteurized.” He told her. “That’s alright, isn’t it? Better flavor and all that.”

If she hadn’t been pregnant she would’ve said that it was, but since she was told not to have anything unpasteurized, she had to avoid it.

“It is, but I actually had some food poisoning earlier this week so I’m trying to avoid anything unpasteurized,” she lied. “So I guess I’ll be having my tea with two lumps of sugar, please.”

“You know what’s good for getting over food poisoning?”

“What?” she asked, not getting where he was going with it.

“Whiskey,” he stated with a cheeky little smile. “The sort I used take from my father. I’ve several bottles. Recently stocked up, I did. So what do you say? Shall we?”

“Hell yeah!” she said without thinking. She loved that whiskey and the few times she’d ever had it was when Alfred had stolen it from his dad, but shortly after her outburst, she remembered that she couldn’t have any. “On second thought, never mind.”

“What?” Alfred couldn’t believe she was turning down the whiskey. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Of course I am.”

“I don’t reckon you are, because I distinctly remember you saying that if you ever turned down this particular whiskey, it was because you’d either lost your mind or because you were pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” she spat, feigning insult. “What are you talking about? I’m not fucking pregnant.”

Her lips were saying she wasn’t, but the panic in her eyes made it clear that she was. And in that moment, Alfred understood why it was that she so unexpectedly decided to travel to London, he know understood why her eyes were filled with worry and apprehension.

“Why would you even say that?” Paulina rambled on.

“I wasn’t saying you are.” Alfred said, hurriedly. He wanted to minimize the damage and not have her tell him off. “I mean, obviously you’re not.”

“Obviously,” she lied.

“I was only saying what you’d once told me. Remember? Back in my flat?” he hoped she would. “Anyways, you’re just not in the mood for whiskey and that’s alright. You’re meant to be with Prince Harry tonight, so surely you don’t want to start drinking so early in the night.”

“Exactly,” she said. “I need to be able to keep up with him. So I can’t drink right now.”

Alfred busied himself by pouring the tea. “We’ll forget the whiskey then, and have the tea. Here you are. Two lumps of sugar with a touch of milk.” He then fixed his own cup and took a seat beside her. He wasn’t sure what to say or where to look, because there were a couple times when he caught his eyes darting in direction of her stomach. “Until when do you intend to stay?” he found himself asking.

“Sunday,” she replied. “Although I might stick around longer.”

“Stay here if it does.” Alfred offered. “I know you’ve mentioned that Prince Harry –”

“Just call him Harry.”

“Wasn’t I?”

She shook her head. “You’ve been adding the Prince to it.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned. “I mean to just call him Harry, but my mind refuses to accept that.”

“Well it should.” Paulina told him. “Harry’s just Harry. That’s how he wants you to treat him. And that’s how you should refer to him. There’s no need for the title.”

“Right then, I’ll try.” Alfred took a breath before continuing. “As I was saying, I know you’ve mentioned that Harry has training all week, so I reckon if you were to stay, it’d be best if you were here.”

“You mean it?” she asked.

“I do. Of course, I do.”

“Even though I just went kind of crazy?” she blushed from embarrassment. “Sorry about that, by the way. It’s just that I’m really kind of paranoid about anyone using that word in reference to me, because if the press even suspects that they heard someone close to me saying that word, it’d all go to fucking hell.”

“There’s nothing like a hint at a Royal baby to make everyone lose their minds.”

“Exactly,” said Paulina. “And that’s why I went crazy, which I shouldn’t have, but I did and I’m sorry.”

“S’alright.” He assured her with a smile. “But what do ya say about my offer? Would you keep me company?”

“I’d love to!” she enthusiastically replied. “Staying here would be so rad, and it’s just – ah! Thank you. Thank you so fucking much, Alfie. It’s great to know you’re there for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you,” he told her. “You should know that by now. I’ve few friends, but the ones I do have are extremely precious to me and there’s nothing I would not do for them. Remember that.”

Paulina had wanted to make it through the day without crying, but unfortunately for her, Alfred’s beautiful words undermined her intention. The tears immediately sprung into her eyes and without thinking, she set her tea down and launched herself at him. Thankfully for them, Alfred had yet to pick up his tea, so instead of knocking the tea all over them, she merely knocked Alfred off balance.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, unaware of what was happening.

“Don’t be daft,” she said when she pulled away. “You said something very right and sweet, and I don’t know, I missed you and hearing you say that got me a little emotional.” She tried to discreetly wipe away the tears but it was obvious. Alfred didn’t comment on her crying, but he offered her his handkerchief. “Thank you,” she said. “And sorry about rushing you like that.”

“Hardly felt it,” he fibbed. “Now sort yourself out and have your tea. Ya said you didn’t eat during the flight, and I’m sure the crisps you had in the car weren’t filling enough.”

“They were good though.” She had devoured an entire bag of Doritos.

“Not as good as tea and biscuits.” He said very matter-of-factly. “Are ya sure you don’t want an actual meal? I’ve food in the fridge and I can make something as well.”

“I’m fine.” She reached for a biscuit. “And Harry said we were gonna have dinner, so I’ll feast then.”

“If you say so, but I still think you ought to have a proper meal, and if not a proper meal, then at least a proper snack. How about a sandwich?”

“I’m fine,” and she chuckled lightly as she told him that. “Now stop trying to feed me and tell me how you’ve been, because Harry’s gonna be here in like half an hour.”

“What do you want me to say though? There’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” she arched her brow. “There’s always something to talk about. Tell me about Olivia.”

“You already know what there is to know,” he simply stated. “I love her. I intend to marry her. That’s it.”

“How about work?” she asked. “Is George still mucking things up?”

George was a subject that Alfred could go on about for hours. His hatred of him ran deep. They were both from the same socioeconomic class, both had the same privileges growing up, and both were quite attractive, but unlike Alfred, George didn’t try. George thought it was enough to simply be handsome and to one day inherit. The only reason George was even working was because his father had said that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t get the estate. So George worked alongside his father, George made a mess of things, and Alfred was left to make it right again. Working with George was a lot like growing up with Charlotte. In fact, George and Charlotte were practically the same person, the only difference was the bit between their legs.

And Alfred went on at great length about his dislike of George. He usually tried to avoid the subject, because he didn’t like boring Olivia with his hatred, but since Paulina had brought the subject up, Alfred had gone with it and Paulina sat there for over twenty minutes, listening to Alfred go on and on. And at the end of that time, she wanted nothing more than to drive up to George’s flat and smack him. Like Alfred, she hated people that didn’t take advantage of their privilege. If they were born with a silver spoon in hand, then they should at least strive by worthy of it. They shouldn’t just sit around, wasting money. They should work, they should want to accomplish something and not just waste time.

“I can’t believe I went on like that,” said Alfred, embarrassedly. “Honest, I’ve never gone on so long about George, but he’s such a wanker. You know? How can anyone be so lazy and utterly content to do nothing? Just because you’ve an estate to inherit, that doesn’t mean you should forego trying to make something of yourself.”

“I don’t get it either,” she told him. “But I guess we were just raised differently, Alfie. We were taught not to be afraid of hard work and to find satisfaction in accomplishing things for ourselves, but people like George were taught that the most important thing in life is to keep up appearances.”

“True of Charlotte, as well,” added Alfred.

“They get a sense of satisfaction out of that. It’s not one that I value or one that I think is worth it, but that keeps them going.” She cringed of the thought of her unborn child growing up to be such an adult, but she knew in her heart she would raise them better than that. “You won’t have to deal with George much longer though. Either he’ll inherit soon or you’ll go to work for the government’s financial services authority.”

“I honestly can’t wait until I start working for them. It’ll be brilliant to be able to regulate the people I currently work for. Just a bit longer and I’ll have pleased my father and saved up enough to marry, and most importantly, I’ll be well versed enough to know how to strike.”

“Do ya know who you remind me of?” Paulina asked him.

“Not a clue,” he replied, honestly. “Who is brilliant enough to come to mind when you think of me?” he teasingly inquired.

“Elizabeth Warren,” she said without hesitation. “Hearing you talk like that, it’s made me want to introduce you, but I can only do that if you visit me at Harvard.”

“It’s not that easy. I can’t just up and go.”

“You have to. At least for a weekend. I just know you’ll get on really well with her! She’s just so fantastic and there’s so much she can teach you.”

“Are you calling me dim?”

“Everyone can stand to learn more,” she replied, dismissively.

“True,” he conceded. “But how would she even teach me? I work full time.”

“Take a summer off,” she said, simply. “She can always use help. She’s taking on the banks right now, she’ll still be taking them on next summer and I won’t be able to –” she cut herself short. “You’d be great with her. Believe me, she is the greatest teacher ever and she has so much experience in her field.”

“Why would she bother teaching me when there are so many students that would do anything to be in that position?”

“She’d teach you, because I’d ask her to.” Paulina said that with a great deal of pride. “Professor Warren thinks highly of me, I think highly of you. That’d be enough.”

“If she’d be willing, so would I.” Alfred had been following Professor Warren’s work in America closely. He always asked Paulina questions and was fascinated by the work being done. “And thank you for the offer.”

“Not just an offer, I’ll make sure it happens.” She reached for his hand and gently squeezed it. “And once you’re done working with her, she’ll be a recommendation you can use and with her, every door in financial regulation will be open.”

“Here’s hoping God will hear you on that.” Alfred shifted in his seat. “Because I’ve absolutely no intention of using my family name as leverage. When I look for employment with the government, I’ll be doing it of my own accord.”

“And that’ll be more than enough.” She had faith that Alfred would thrive in government work. “They’d be mental not to take you on.”

“May that be true,” he said with a smile. “Well now that we’ve focused on me for so long, let’s change the subject.” He cleared his throat. “How are ya?”

“A little tired,” she replied, “But happy, very happy. It’s good to be back and it’s nice to have this cool weather again.”

“What? Can this be true? Are you actually saying you missed this weather?” Alfred was in a state of utter disbelief. “Because I distinctly remember you groaning on about the British weather, and how it was rubbish compared to the likes of Southern California.”

“I was a nostalgic fool who’d forgotten how unbearable the heat is over there,” she replied with a smile. “It’s been in the nineties and the hundreds, and it’s just blegh.”

“Of course, it’s blegh. People aren’t meant to live in those temperatures.” Alfred couldn’t survive in that climate, and he firmly believed no other person should be subjected to it. “How’s your family doing? Your mum called me while I was waiting for you.”

“Did she?” Paulina groaned. “Sorry about that, I told her not to call you.”

“She was only worried, is all. Completely understandable if you ask me. I daresay I’ll be the same when I’ve children of my own.”

“Still, it’s embarrassing. And I called her while I was waiting to clear immigration.”

“Then she probably called me before she called you,” said Alfred.

“What’d she say?”

“Well, she thanked me for fetching you from the airport and told me to take good care of you and then she invited me to visit, like she always does.”

“One of these days you’re going to have to accept her invitation.” Paulina told him.

“I know, but I reckon I ought to wait until the winter months. That way it’ll be a nice holiday from the weather here and you’ll actually be there, so it won’t be terribly awkward.”

“As if it could be terribly awkward. My family loves you! My dad goes around referring to you as Alfredo, and my brothers all like you. And I know this is going to sound horrible, but Rafa and Adrian like you better than they do Harry.”

“Well of course they do, I’m not having a go with their sister. I’m simply the friend, and everyone likes the friend, it’s the boyfriend they distrust.” Alfred grinned. “Not to worry though, Luis’ a fan of Harry. That’s enough for now. The other two will warm up eventually.”

She doubted that. Now that she was pregnant they were going to like Harry even less.

“Are you still planning on taking Harry to Mexico?”

She nodded. “We’re hoping to plan something for next August.” If her baby was born in February like she’d been told, then they’d be six months old by the time August came around. She hoped her baby would be strong enough for a flight, but if not, it’d be postponed. “I want him to meet the entire family, so getting him out there’s a priority.”

“Do ya think it’ll be safe enough?”

“It should be. There hasn’t really been that much cartel activity where we’re from, but if for any reason his security thinks it’d a bad idea, then we’ll wait on it.”

They didn’t talk much after that. Harry soon called to inform her that he was only a couple blocks away, in five or so minutes, he’d get there and they’d be off. Paulina took that time to compose herself in the bathroom. She was going to be face to face with him in a few seconds, and she hoped that he wouldn’t notice what was going on. He just had to be ignorant of it for one more day, because on the following evening, she’d tell him everything. She’d inform him of her pregnancy, tell him how far along she was, and when their expected due date was. Tomorrow night, he’d be made aware of their growing baby, but tonight, he just had to be caught up in his happiness to see her, he just had to believe her smile and trust that everything was fine.

“Brought down your bag while you were in the loo.” Alfred told her. “And I packed you some biscuits and here’s an orange juice. Don’t worry, it’s pasteurized. It’ll do you well. There’s also one for Harry. Sorry about the gift bag, only one I had.”

“Nothing says orange juice like a congratulations on your graduation gift bag.” Paulina joked. “Thanks for the orange juice and biscuits. I’ll have them after dinner.”

“Ya should have them in the car. There’s no point in going hungry. You shouldn’t do that to yourself. Not now.” He didn’t want to make her suspect that he knew what was going on. “Since you’re recovering from food poisoning, you ought to keep yourself full.”

“Alright then, I’ll have it in the car.” She slung her duffel bag across her shoulders. “I’ll call you if I end up staying longer. That way you at least get a heads up.”

“I don’t need a heads up. Not when it’s you. In fact, I made this for you.” He took out a spare copy of his house key. “Keep it. In case you ever have to let yourself in and I’m not here.”

“Do you seriously trust me with your house key?” she was taken aback by the gesture.

“Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered.” He grinned as he handed over the copy. “Take care of it, and remember, even if you don’t call beforehand, just let yourself in. We don’t need to stand upon such ceremony. Alright? This is as good as your home. It’ll always be here for you. Remember.”

The seriousness with which Alfred spoke didn’t go unnoticed by Paulina. She was tempted to ask him why he was being like that, but just as she was about to ask him, her phone went off. It was Harry calling to say that he was right there and would be getting out of the car soon.

“Thank you for trusting me with a key,” she said as she slipped it onto her keychain and then secured it in her duffle bag. “And thank you for picking me up and being there for me. I’ll see you soon, Alfie. I love you.”

The pair moved in for a hug, but it wasn’t a short embrace, it was a long one that lasted well over ten seconds. She was finding strength in the smell of his cologne and he was trying to convey that he would always be there for her, no matter what happened. When they pulled away, Alfred tenderly touched the side of her face, and then led her to the front door, where Harry was getting ready to ring the buzzer.

When the buzzer rang, Paulina threw open the door and walked right outside. On any other night, Harry would’ve stepped inside, shook hands with Alfred, kissed her for a bit, and then they would’ve been on their way, but she didn’t trust herself at that moment. She didn’t want to be kissed and held by him, because she was afraid of confessing everything. So she smiled brightly when she saw him, smiled despite her nerves, and then took his hand and led him through the crowd. This was the first time that Paulina had been grateful for the press being there. They forced her to be on her A-game, and she rose to the occasion. She held face as she moved through the swarm, she climbed into the backseat with grace, and then placed her bag on the floor. She did all this without stopping to think about what was going on in Harry’s mind.

“What was all that about?” Harry asked when he’d climbed into the seat beside her and the door had been shut. “Since when do you not go for a snog?”

“Since I wanted to get the hell out of there and into your dad’s house.” She told him, doing her best to smirk, though in truth it was more of an awkward smile, not that Harry noticed it. He was far too busy letting his mind go to the gutter. “I mean, we could’ve waited around at Alfie’s house, but that would’ve taken away from our alone time, and I’ve been missing you way too much to want to spend time with anyone else while I’m here these few days.”

“Is that so?” Harry asked as Alistair began to drive.

“It is.” She placed a hand on his inner thigh. “We only have two full days before I have to go back to California and you have to go back to training, and I intend to make them count.”

Her face was mere inches from his. Her breath tickling his upper lip as her hand massaged his thigh. She could see his face flooding with color. He wanted her. The lust in his eyes made it clear. They were staring at her in the same way they’d stared on that first night they’d had sex, and knowing very well what he needed, she crashed her lips upon his and greedily devoured them. She put as much passion and emotion as she could muster, because in reality, she didn’t feel like kissing at the moment. She was too tired and worried for that, but Harry had to be distracted, Harry was yearning for her touch, and so she kissed him despite the fact that she would’ve much rather been eating the biscuits that Alfred had packed for her.

When they finally broke apart, Harry gazed up at her in a daze. His beautiful blue eyes shining with tender affection. He had missed her. It might’ve only been a couple weeks, but my God, he had missed her. He longed to share his bed with her, to wake at her side and watch in silence as she rambled on about something he didn’t entirely understand. Without her at his side, the world just didn’t feel right, and he was glad at her return to England. When he’d received her phone call a few days earlier, he’d initially been worried that something was wrong, but after she assured him that she was flying out because she missed him too much, his chest swelled with a mixture of pride and joy.

“Fucking hell, darling,” he said as he struggled to catch his breath. “Now that’s the best way to great a bloke.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven for not kissing you earlier?”

“Nearly,” he replied with a cheeky smile. “If you give me another snog like that, I reckon you’ll be completely forgiven.”

“Well then let me earn my pardon.”

And she went in for another kiss, fully intending it to be simpler, but Harry wasn’t having that. He deepened the kiss almost instantly. He’d been without her long enough and he wanted to feel his body pressed against hers, he wanted to bury himself between her thighs, and that was precisely what he ended up doing. He deepened the kiss and lowered her onto the seat, not caring if Alistair was driving. He kissed her with everything he had and it wasn’t until Alistair cleared his throat when they reached their destination, that the young lovers pulled away.

“Why’ve we stopped?” asked Harry, utterly oblivious to the fact that they’d been driving for quite some time.

“We’ve arrived at your father’s, Sir.” Alistair informed, his eyes fixed firmly ahead.

“And has Kamal seen to dinner?” Harry inquired.

“He has indeed,” confirmed Alistair.

“What’s for dinner?” asked Paulina as she sat up.

“You’ll see.” Harry knew she was going to love what he’d had fetched for them. “Come on then, let’s get inside. I’m bloody starving and I reckon you are too, what with the long flight you had.”

Harry didn’t open the door. He waited until Alistair exited and did it for him. It was then, when they were exiting that Paulina finally greeted Alistair. She was embarrassed that she’d forgotten to do it early on and that she’d spent the entire drive snogging, but now that she could, she smiled brightly and hugged him as tightly as she did Alfred.

“It’s great to see you again, Alistair.” She said when they pulled apart. “I know you won’t believe me when I say it, but I missed you.”

“You’re too kind, Miss.”

“Not really,” she replied. “And there are lots of people that’ll attest to that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be one of them.” He firmly stated.

“Now you’re the one that’s being kind.” She smiled but said nothing further. She simply followed Harry up the stairs and into the house. “Kamal!” she exclaimed when she saw him in the foyer. “How good it is to see you! How are you?”

“Quite well, Miss.” Kamal replied, respectfully. “I trust your flight from California was a pleasant one.”

“As pleasant as flights can be,” she said. “I slept through all of it, so I have no complaints except for that of my stomachs.”

“And that’s why I had dinner brought round from your favorite place,” said Harry, joining the conversation.

“Steak?” Paulina’s stomach growled at the mere thought of it.

“And wild rice and mashed potatoes and au gratin potatoes, because there’s no such thing as to many potatoes.” Harry grinned. “Does my darling approve of dinner?”

“She does indeed.”

“Then let’s have at it, because my arse is starving.”

The dining room had been romantically staged by Kamal. He’d placed a beautiful bouquet of fresh sunflowers in a vase and had lit two unscented candles. The food had been set on the table minutes before their arrival. It had been taken out of the plastic containers and placed on delicate porcelain plates. Harry had gone to great lengths to ensure the evening would be a success, he’d even had the master bedroom flooded with sunflowers and wildflowers, because he wanted to make it seem as if they were making love in the garden. It would be a touch that he knew Paulina would appreciate, but for the moment, he did something that always made her heart flutter, he pulled out her chair. His friends might’ve teased him about it in private, but he knew that small gestures like that meant the most to her and he was only too happy to oblige her romantic sensibilities.

“This is beautiful güerito,” she complimented. “The flowers, the candle, it’s all so lovely.”

“Only the best for my darling,” he told her. “Now how about some whiskey? I made sure we got the one you’re so keen on.”

Turning down whiskey had made Alfred bring up the pregnancy word, she knew that Harry would be likely to make the same joke, except that if he made it, she would probably end up confessing. So instead she accepted the whiskey and pretended to drink it, though not a drop ever entered her lips. Had Harry not been so focused on his food, he would’ve noticed that her glass was still full, but he was shoveling the food in and by the end of their dinner, he’d drunk five glasses of whiskey.

“And I told Skippy to get his arse off the table, but the wanker wouldn’t listen. He kept saying he was alright, but I knew his arse wasn’t and then right when he was climbing on, the damn table buckled and he fell right onto Wills’ lap. It was bloody hilarious. Ya should’ve been there, love!” Harry laughed heartily as he recounted his previous weekend’s adventure.

“Fucking Skippy, I can’t believe that happened!” she couldn’t contain her laughter. “But he should’ve known better than to climb a table to try to impress a girl. I mean, what’s the logic?”

“There’s none!” Harry chuckled. “If ya fancy someone you have to go right up to them and make a move. That’s what I’ve always told him. That’s what I’ve always done.”

“Is it?”

“It bloody well is,” he replied. “And you know it, because as soon as I knew I fancied you, I had my uncle give me the Rhodes Scholars files and I called you up for a date.”

“You didn’t call it a date though,” she reminded.

“Well I didn’t want to scare ya off.” He said, very matter-of-factly. “And your arse knew what it was, even if I didn’t call it what it was. And need I remind you, that by the end of that we were snogging.”

“Only after you’d chickened out.”

“Chickened out? Not even!”

“Yes even,” she said. “Because I distinctly remember giving you all the signals to kiss me but you were just awkward and kept saying that you’d had a great time.”

“Lies! You’re trying to ruin my good name. I was never awkward.”

“You were,” she firmly stated. “And I remember being sad because I thought I had a better time than you did, but then you went back and kissed me like you should’ve the first time around.”

“That’s right . . .” he said, suddenly remembering. “I even pinned ya against the door.”

“And when I called you Harry, you told me to only ever call you Henry.”

“I did.” He smiled at the memory. “We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we?”

“We have.” Her heart swelled with love for the man that stood in front of her, and it demanded that she tell him just how far they’d come, it demanded that she tell him they were expecting a child, but her mind refused to allow her to do so. She had to stick with her plan. She’d tell him on Saturday after making his favorite dinner. “And I’m so happy to be with you, because I seriously can’t imagine my life with anyone else.” Her voice broke off and despite her best efforts, the tears began. “Te amo, mi güerito.”

“Why are ya crying?” Harry abandoned his seat and went over to her. He knelt down at her side and took her hand in his. “Come on there, darling. Don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just can’t help it though. These last few days I’ve –”

“You’ve what?”

She felt it coming. She was going to tell him. She was going to do it. It wouldn’t be too hard. They’d already had a nice dinner. They were already talking about how far they’d come. It’d be easy – well, not exactly easy, but more along the lines of manageable. She could tell him that they’d come this far, but they still had further to go, they still had a child to raise. That sounded like a brilliant thing to say and her heart urged her on, but once more it was thwarted. Her mind knew it had to act if it was going to keep the secret until the following evening, so without warning, she crashed her lips upon Harry’s.

Harry was confused. One moment she was crying, the next she was kissing him. He didn’t know what to make of the situation, but he knew he wasn’t going to resist those lips. He wasn’t even bothered by the garlic taste the mashed potatoes had left in their mouths, he was so desperate to be with her, that he lost himself in his desperation. And in his desire to have his fell of her, he broke the kiss and took her into his arms so he could carry her up the stairs. Harry walked with one thing in mind, but Paulina was steadily becoming dizzier. Kissing had left her lightheaded and now that he’d slung over his shoulder and she was being taken up the stairs, she was growing dizzy and she feared she might grow nauseous as well.

She did her best to fight off her dizziness. She closed her eyes so as to not be aware of the distance between herself and the floor, she counted mentally to focus on something other than the way she felt, and it worked for a while, but then Harry had the brilliant idea that he should toss her onto the bed as he had done so many times before. It was something that always had her laughing, she’d giggle and tell him he was mad, but on that day, she didn’t giggle, on that day she threw up. Not instantly, mind you. She was able to make it to the bathroom, but the moment she landed on the bed, her face began to contort. Her eyes furrowed as she grimaced and grabbed at her stomach, and before Harry could even ask what was wrong, she’d leapt from the bed and sprinted into the bathroom.

She barely managed to lift the toilet before she started throwing up. Chunks of chewed steak and bits of potato flooded the toilet, there were traces of rosemary that had yet to be digested. She threw up everything she’d had at dinner, as well as the tea and biscuits she’d had at Alfred’s. Her puking was so intense, that she wasn’t able to stay crouched throughout it. She ended up falling onto her knees and grabbing onto the toilet with both hands.

When Harry came in she was still throwing up. He stepped towards her and placed a hand on her back, but when he did so, she lifted one of hers and motioned him to go away. She didn’t want to be touched. Not when she was puking. She didn’t even want him to be in the fucking room, because her mind knew there was no getting out of it. She couldn’t just tell him that she’d been feeling ill, she couldn’t just say that she’d caught a bug on the flight over, or that her niece or nephew had gotten her sick. She couldn’t say any of that, because her mind and her heart were now in agreement, as soon as she was done puking, she’d tell him.

Except that she didn’t end up telling him. She didn’t have to. It was Harry who figured out everything for himself.

“What’s wrong, Paulin?” he asked, standing a few feet away from her. “Did you eat something on the flight that was off? Tell me so I can file a complaint with those bastards and –”

“I didn’t eat anything on the flight,” she said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Then why are you puking? Because we ate the same bloody thing. It makes no sense for you to be puking like this.”

“It makes perfect sense.” She took in a deep breath and lifted her gaze to him. “Harry,” she began, but found herself unable to continue, so she did something that would have at any other moment made Harry think that she was having a stomach ache, but at the moment, he knew that she was rubbing her belly for a different reason.

“No . . .” he whispered when the realization struck him. “You can’t be.”