The War at Home

Just off the main lobby of the 52-story Four Seasons Hotel, sits an intimate lounge. During the day people filter in and out for a casual drink, or afternoon tea. The hotel staff boasts about the lounge’s cozy, living room feel that appeals to their many guests who travel too frequently to remember what a home feels like. Besides the lounges homey atmosphere, it’s opulent fireplace draws in the weary traveler out of the cool night air. On this particular night, the normally occupied lounge was quiet and still; Amelia was the only one inside. Not a coincidence, she bet as she positioned, and repositioned herself on one of the armchairs until her posture was both lady-like and comfortable.
Amelia found her present situation so peculiar. Just hours ago she had been going about her daily routine praying for something extraordinary to happen, when Ian suddenly took off from the playground. She had always known, from the moment she began working with Ian there was something special about him and it wasn’t just his autism. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but she didn’t realize he would end up changing her life. It was almost as if he was running to Harry, even though he couldn’t possibly have known the Prince was just a few blocks away. Ian had always been a runner, but each time he ran Amelia found there was a purpose for it: a noise she barely heard would send him running to the gymnasium or the smell of popcorn in the teachers lounge, just a few doors down. A Prince stopping for lunch at the local deli would not have heightened his senses, she thought to herself. Amelia had to stop thinking in terms of fate, and serendipity. It simply did not exist, it couldn’t.
Despite her disbelief in things like fate, Amelia still found herself getting into a cab heading towards the Four Seasons to meet a prince. Even as she arrived, she wondered how long the dream would last, how long had she been asleep? She had giggled at the thought of asking for him at the front desk; the clerk certainly wasn’t just going to give out such a high profile celebrities room number. Luckily, she didn’t have to figure out just how to find Harry as his security was already on the lookout for her. They lead her to the lounge where she waited 15 minutes after 9, when she began to wonder if she was being set up.
“I am so sorry,” Harry said stepping into the room a few minutes later. He undid the button of his suit jacket, and sat down across from her. “My last appearance ran a bit late. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
He smiled at her as he made himself comfortable in the other arm chair. It was hard for him not to think about how different Amelia was from his usual dates. She was beautiful, just in a different way. The most noticeable difference was her hair color, brunette and cut slightly below her shoulder. A soft, side-swept bang partially hid one of her bold, golden brown eyes. She was neither fat, nor skinny but the little black dress she had chosen accentuated each curve perfectly. After glancing at her quickly, he spotted something he hadn’t noticed earlier. At first, he couldn’t make out the sparkling item but he knew what it must be from it’s position on the ring finger of her left hand.
“No, I wasn’t waiting long,” Amelia said blushing. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear giving him a perfect view of her sparkler. “And you did say around 9, so technically you aren’t late at all.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” He stated still fixated on the ring. How could he have not noticed it before? It wasn’t large, but it wasn’t invisible either. As he preoccupied himself with thoughts of why she’d be wearing a ring on that finger he mindlessly stated, “Hopefully, the traffic was not too bad.”
She wrinkled her forehead in confusion, “The traffic was fine, nothing more than usual. But the traffics not really what I’m concerned about.”
He looked up at her, “What is it that you’re concerned about, then?”
“For starters? I met a man today who told me he enjoyed my article and wanted to discuss it more. That man turned out to be a Prince. I don’t know about you, but where I come from that’s not a usual occurrence. I’ve only met one other “famous” person before in my life, and it was way after his prime. So, technically, I don’t think that counts. Anyway, now I am in a beautiful hotel being served tea with that Prince and I’m not really sure if I’m dreaming or not.”
“Well, if you do wake up it will have been a nice dream,” Harry crossed one long leg over the other and leaned back.
“Do you do this a lot?” Amelia asked suddenly. Noticing the confusion on his face she continued, “You know, ask random girls to come to your hotel for tea?”
He chuckled softly, “Possibly, but ... I promise that is not the reason I asked you to come here. And that probably sounds like a line, as well, but there is little I can do to prove differently.” Harry looked down at his hands than back up at Amelia, before continuing.
“All of the girls ask that same question and it’s amazing how many of them believe me when I tell them no. I assume it’s the thrill of being with a Prince, because they know me about as well as I know them. They make it easy for me, but then I’m to blame whenever I’m caught in a compromising position. I swear I ...”
“Go on,” Amelia said encouragingly but he just laughed. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s nothing,” He said standing up walking over to the fireplace. He couldn’t believe he had let his guard down, even just the tiniest bit. By now he really should have known better. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Amelia shrugged, “You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. Besides, I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.”
He nodded still unsure if he could trust her or not. After all she was already holding back an important secret of her own, and he couldn’t move on with the conversation until he figured it out. So, he changed the subject, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to come here?”
She looked at him curiously. Was she not supposed to come here? Hadn’t he invited her?
“I see a ring on your finger,” He continued once he saw the confused look on her face. “That can only mean one of two things. Either you’re not engaged and it’s just a fancy piece of jewelry or you are engaged and I’m your hall pass.”
Without missing a beat Amelia replied, “My hall pass is Bradley Cooper, and I’m not going to waste it on Prince Harry.” She did her best to keep a strainght face but could not hide the giggles when she saw the look of shock in his face. “I’m kidding. I am engaged, but this isn’t a hall pass. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“The reason I came tonight,” She started after a short pause. “is because you are the first person whose read the article and didn’t look at me pitifully. I really, really hate that.” He nodded his head understanding, but allowed her to continue. “I hate the way people look at me like I am so fragile.
Harry shook his head. “The last thing I got from the article was fragility. I don’t know if I would even have the courage to put all of that down on paper.”
She could feel her cheeks get red, and hoped she could pass it off as heat from the fire. “I don’t know if I’d call it courage, as much as therapy. I did it because I was just so over feeling sorry for myself. Being sad all of the time and moping around was not going to bring back my brother.”
“So, you wrote it all out to be over with it,” He offered. “Kind of like closing a door on it.”
“Exactly,” She said with some hesitation. It was so strange that he understood, that he continued to listen and was not waiting for her to break down in tears. “But once the article was out there everyone wanted to console me. People I didn’t even know began sending me sympathy cards. It took a long time for things to go back to normal, and just as did you showed up. It was like you were thanking me for writing the article. I know it’s silly but I felt a connection with you. A connection I haven’t felt since my brother died.”
Amelia was open, and exposed. She closed her arms around her upper body tightly to control the trembling. Since her brother had died there had been exactly two moments when she felt him around her. This was one of those times. She could feel him in every word she spoke, as if he was coaxing her to say those things. To blurt them out to a total stranger.
Harry moved from his spot by the mantle and sat on the arm rest of her chair. His hand moved up and down her back in a slow, rhythmic motion until she was calm enough to stand up. The blush returned to her cheeks and she didn’t know what to say next; he didn’t know what to say either. For awhile, they stayed silent.
“I took the article with me, to Afghanistan,” Harry began. “I can’t tell you why, but it felt like a security blanket. The connection you felt when you first met me was real, because I felt it when I first found your article,” His words came out soothing and comforting. It was his turn to blush, as he admitted a secret he’d kept for what felt like forever.
 Again there was more silence between them. It was hard to respond to a person who opens themselves up to you, especially with someone new. So, wanting to start over Amelia said, “How did you like the Jersey Shore?” And with that the walls were brought back down. They talked aimlessly about everything and nothing, never again breaching the subject of the article. It was casual, as it should have been from the start and when it neared time to leave neither was ready to go.
Harry walked Amelia towards the main lobby at the end of the night. He hated to see her go, but knew she had to. “Did you know that Prince’s have mobiles?”
Amelia chuckled playing along, “Do they really?”
“Absolutely, we use them mostly for Royal Business, of course. However, we sometimes use them to speak to normal people. And since you are normal I thought maybe we could exchange numbers.”
“Hmmm, I’m not sure,” Amelia said coyly. “My phone is not used to Royal phone calls. It may explode or something.”
“I hope not, but maybe we could give it a shot.”
After numbers were exchanged, Harry kissed Amelia on the cheek and watched her walk out. It wasn’t how he imagined that night would have gone or how he had pictured their first conversation. However, it was probably one of the best nights he’d had since he had gotten back from Afghanistan. Even though, she was off limits intimately, he was satisfied with any type of relationship they may form. As he laid in bed, he wondered if he’d someday feel more than just content with his life.