Volver a Tus Brazos

It was at a half past ten on Friday morning when Harry and his security details pulled up in front of her house. They had spent all of Thursday struggling to get to Boston. They had thought that getting to the airport and booking a flight was going to be a simple enough process, he was a prince after all, and princes always get what they want, but bad traffic and a horrible three car collision transformed the hour drive to LAX into a nearly four hour endeavor, and when they got there, it wasn’t much better. Every single flight out to Boston had been booked. The earliest flight with available seats didn’t leave until one in the morning, and he couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck in that fucking airport. So he asked to speak with passengers that had seats on the earlier flights, he offered to pay them double what they had paid for their ticket and to pay for their new flights out, but none of them budged. Had it been any other time of the year, they would’ve undoubtedly taken the offer, but it was Thanksgiving and they weren’t going to give up their seats, not for all the money in the world. Disappointed that he hadn’t been able to persuade the strangers, Harry decided to hire a private jet. It wasn’t something he normally did and he knew he would get chewed out by his father for doing so, but it was a necessary expense. He had to get to Boston as quickly as possible, he needed to be with Paulina again, but his attempts at getting a private jet were unsuccessful.

All the fucking private jets were booked.

All commercial flights were booked until one in the fucking morning.

There was nothing Harry could do except wait, and that was why, with a heavy heart, he found himself forced to take the red eye to Boston in economy seating. It was an uncomfortable flight, made worse by the fast that he was wedged between two strangers. He hadn’t even been able to get himself and his security details seats in the same row. They were scattered throughout the cabin, stuck in middle seats. Things were so bad that none of them were able to fall asleep during the flight. Kamal and Alfred just sat in their seats, and every so often they went over to Harry to make sure everything was okay, and for his part, Harry planned what he would tell Paulina when he saw her. He had to apologize. That much, he knew. He had to tell her he loved her and that life wasn’t the same without her, and that he wanted to be with her again, to start a life, but when he got to that part, he grew worried. To start a life with her was to imply that he wanted children, which he did, but that would bring up little Thea, that would make her remember the miscarriage and everything that came with it, and he was afraid that that would keep her from taking him back. He had seen how much she had suffered, he had watched her wither away, he had seen all those terrible pictures that the tabloids had taken, and he wondered if she could forgive him. He wondered if her pride would allow her to take him back, because in her heart, he knew there was still love.

There had to be.

Because what they had was real. It was passionate and intense and sometimes it was a massive mess, but it was genuine love. He had given her his heart in its entirety and she had done the same. That was why he was so heartbroken, because his heart still belonged to her. It would be hers for the rest of his life, and he needed her back, because he couldn’t keep going like he was. It was time for a change and he didn’t care if he had to get down on his knees to beg, he didn’t care if he had to swallow his pride. He’d do it! Bloody hell, he’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant that he got to have her at his side. For her, he was capable of anything.

And although he was terrified of failing, he wasn’t about to let that stop him from trying. That was why when they pulled up in front of her house, he jumped out and ran. In that moment, he wasn’t thinking straight. He just knew he had to get to her, he had to talk to her, make her love him again, and so he ran to the house and when he reached the stairs, he went down them and when he reached her door, he raised his fist and banged on it with everything he had.

He expected her to come running to the door, but she didn’t. And after two minutes, he decided to knock again. He kept at it for ten minutes, and after growing impatient, he remembered that he still had the key she had given him. He knew that letting himself in was a risk that could very well blow up on him, but he had to take it. After all, one of the times she broke up with him, he’d let himself into her house and they made up, so maybe just maybe it would work this time around as well, but unfortunately for Harry that wasn’t the case. The key no longer worked. She had changed the locks out of fear that Harry might one day try to surprise her and when Harry realized that his key no longer worked, he couldn’t help but let out a slew of profanity that echoed throughout the entire neighborhood and alarmed his security details.

Alistair and Kamal immediately raced towards him. They feared that Paulina had hurt him. In fact, they’d both expected her to either punch Harry, kick him in the nuts, or throw something at him. That was what they thought was going to happen, but when they reached the stairs, they didn’t find Harry doubled over on the floor or find him clutching his face in pain. Instead, they found him with his head pressed against the door and with his hand on the doorknob.

“Are you alright, Sir?” Alistair inquired.

“She changed the bloody locks on me,” was Harry’s response. There were tears in his eyes, angry tears that burned as they fell. “And I know it’s silly to cry. I know it is. We’ve not been together for ages and obviously she would do this, but I . . . I thought that perhaps this would’ve remained unchanged, that her heart would’ve forced her to keep it the same, that way there’d at least be a chance for . . .” he couldn’t finish saying that. There was still a chance for him. She might’ve changed the locks, but that didn’t mean a damn thing. That was why he hastily wiped the fallen tears away and cleared his throat before turning to face them. “She’s not in,” he told them. “She must be at an event for that campaign she’s working on.”

“What do you propose we do, Sir?” it was Kamal that spoke.

“Get back in the car and wait. That’s all we can do. When she gets back, I’ll go from there.”

Harry assumed she’d be back in a couple hours and that she’d be on her own. He was sorely mistaken. When she returned, it was dark out and she wasn’t by herself, Alfred was with her. The last time that Harry had seen Alfred, it had come to blows. Harry had snuck into his house and when Alfred saw him in the kitchen, he punched him and then Harry hit back and it was just a fucking mess. So when Harry saw Alfred standing there, he knew that he couldn’t approach Paulina while he was around. Alfred would fuck things up, he would tell Paulina to ignore Harry and talk all sorts of shit. So despite the fact that he’d waited outside her house all day, Harry decided that it was time to pack up.

It was a decision that he hated, but regardless, he and his security details checked into a hotel and early the next afternoon, they went back to the house. Her car was still in the driveway, which was promising, but just as they were parking across the street, another car pulled up and out came Francis.

“What’s that bastard doing here?” Harry muttered to himself. His eyes ablaze with jealousy.

He had half a mind to go after Francis, but Alistair reminded Harry that Alfred was still there and that throwing a fit wouldn’t help his cause.

“I can’t believe that bastard’s here.” Harry went on. “What’s business does he have showing up at her flat? Honestly, what’s he got to do with her? This is a bloody holiday weekend. He’s meant to be with his family, not with her!”

Harry was so pissed off that he kept badmouthing Francis. He didn’t even really know the guy, but he just talked shit, and it got to the point where Kamal and Alistair were genuinely concerned that Harry might do something stupid.

“Look at those smug bastards,” hissed Harry when he saw Paulina walk out with Francis and Alfred. “They look so bloody pleased with themselves. Fucking prats don’t deserve to be with her. I do! I should be the one running around Boston with her, not those wankers! You know what?” he asked, but expected no answer. “Let’s follow them! Wherever they go, we’ll go. Just keep a distance and when she’s on her own, I’ll take my chance.”

“I must advise against that, Sir.”

“Alistair, I’m not in the mood for you mouthing off.”

“Miss Balcázar would not appreciate her private life playing out in public.” Alistair defiantly stated. “She’ll be absolutely furious if you approach her in public. Especially given how things went the last time you saw her. So I must urge you to just stay here and wait. She’d bound to come back. And you know what? I doubt Alfred will be with her, because he took the luggage he brought along with him.”

“He has a point.” Kamal spoke up.

“Not you, Kamal!” Harry groaned. He was used to Alistair mouthing off, but he didn’t want Kamal doing the same. “I’ve enough with this one. I don’t need both of you telling me how to –”

“Forgive me, Sir. It is not my intention to speak out of turn, but Alistair has a point.” Kamal felt he had to speak his mind. “Miss Balcázar and her companion are undoubtedly taking Mr. Ferrars to the airport. If they weren’t, he wouldn’t be lugging about that duffel bag.”

“Well that’s one of them gone. What about the other?” Harry questioned, gruffly.

“That I cannot say, Sir.” Kamal replied. “Though I do hope that when they return, Miss Balcázar will not invite him in.”

“She’s no reason to invite him in,” said Harry. “He’s nothing to her. Nothing at all.” He balled his fists when he saw Francis open the door for Paulina. It was infuriating. “So if we’re not to follow, what do you lot suppose we do?”

“Wait.” They said in unison.

“Wait?” repeated Harry, disgusted by the thought of waiting in that damn car while Paulina drove around with Francis bloody Kennedy. “I bloody hate waiting, but apparently, I’ve no choice.”

With a grimace on his face, Harry sat in the car waiting for her to arrive. He hoped his wait would be short one, that in a mere hour or so, she would return, but the hours dragged on without sign of her. And then, when she finally showed up, she didn’t go inside her house on her own, she instead lingered on the front lawn with Francis, they just stood around talking, and Harry contemplated whether or not he should just interrupt them, but just as he was resolving to do so, a cab showed up and when it did, Paulina climbed inside accompanied by that damn Irishman.

Needless to say, Harry was pissed. How dare she leave with him? How dare they get a cab? Didn’t they know that Francis was supposed to go home and that Paulina was supposed to go back into her basement? That was how things were supposed to go, but no, those fuckers got a cab. And they’d gotten it because they were gonna go drink, because that was the only reason someone would leave behind a car. They were going to get drunk and they were going to laugh and smile. Those assholes were going to be merry while he was stuck in a fucking car with his security details.

It infuriated him, but despite that he didn’t throw a fit, despite that he didn’t demand that they follow after them so that he could confront her wherever it was that she was going, despite knowing very well that Paulina wouldn’t be back until late, Harry waited. He deluded himself into thinking that once they got back, Francis would stumble into his car and fuck off. He didn’t care if he got into an accident or if he got pulled over for driving drunk, he just wanted him gone so that he could talk to the woman that had been haunting his dreams, but that didn’t happen, because when they got back, Francis didn’t leave.

When they got back, things got worse and Harry literally had to be held back by his security details. He couldn’t stand the sight of Francis throwing her over his shoulder and he fucking hated her laughter, because she wasn’t meant to be carried around by that bloody Irishman, she wasn’t meant to be drinking with him into the late hours of the night, and she most certainly, wasn’t supposed to giggle while he carried her in. How dare she do that? How dare she be happy when he was absolutely gutted? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair! And he intended to tell her as much. He was going to throw a bloody scene, he was going to mess up that smug wanker’s face and he didn’t care if the world found out, he didn’t care if the neighbors called the cops or if anyone recorded him on their phones, he just needed to hurt Francis, he just needed to unleash the rage he felt within, but unfortunately for Harry, he wasn’t given the opportunity, because the moment he reached for the door, Alistair took him into his arms and forcefully held him in place while Kamal sped off to the hotel.

By the time they arrived, Alistair’s nose had been broken and his shirt was stained with blood, but despite the injuries sustained, he did not let go of Harry. It was his duty to protect the young man, and while most of the time that meant protecting him from others, it occasionally meant protecting him from himself.

“Get him inside.” And despite the pain emanating from his nose, Alistair managed to keep his cool. “Go on, Kamal. Take him in.”

“The hell he is!” Harry bellowed. “The only place I’m bloody going is back to Paulin’s house! Now do as you’re told and take me!”

“She has company,” argued Alistair. “Don’t you understand that? She has a friend over.”

“He’s not her friend!” spat Harry. “He’s just some wanker that hangs about!”

“I know you’re upset, Sir.” Alistair went on. “And you have every right to be, but you must keep your wits about you. If you were to confront her, you would undoubtedly say foolish things that you would regret in the morning. You would allow your passions to overwhelm, you would destroy any chance of reconciliation, and that is why Kamal and I will not permit you to return to her home. It is in your best interest to remain here. Now do go up, because I need to go to the hospital.”

It was then that Harry noticed the blood that had stained the crisp white shirt that Alfred wore.

“Did I –” began Harry.

“Yes,” answered Alistair, knowing very well what the young prince was asking. “But is of no consequence. It is not the first time it has been broken, and I daresay it will not be the last. Now please do me the favor of accompanying Kamal to your chambers.”

“I should go with you.” Harry didn’t even realize when he’d done it, but he did remembering throwing his head back, and obviously, one of those blows had messed up Alistair’s nose. “I did that. It’s only right I make sure you’re looked after.”

“My nose is none of your concern, Sir.” Alistair firmly stated. “You must rest for tomorrow. For it will certainly be the day that you are reunited with Miss Balcázar.”

And it was. Although it wasn’t as early as Harry and the security details would’ve liked. They were outside her house at ten in the morning, expecting Francis to be gone, but when they pulled up, his car was still parked in the driveway and many hours would come to pass before he left. In fact, it was at a quarter to three when Francis made his first appearance and at first, Harry was thrilled. He thought that Francis was finally leaving, but then he saw Paulina following closely behind him and he couldn’t help but let out a slew of profanity as he watched her get into the car. Was she planning on spending the entire weekend with him? She’d already spent Saturday with him. Wasn’t that enough? It should’ve been. For fuck’s sake, it should’ve been, but regardless of how Harry felt about the situation, Paulina got into the car and it was over an hour before she returned. And for a moment, Harry was terrified that Francis was going to stay. The fucker walked her to the door and Harry thought for sure that that damn Irishman was going to stay for dinner, but shortly after having disappeared down the stairs, he reemerged and got into his car and drove off.

That was a moment of elation for Harry.

There was no more Francis.

There was no more Alfred.

There was nothing standing in the way of his being with Paulina. All he had to do was go to her door, but that proved difficult, because the elation passed rather quickly, and in its place was dread. Would she even hear him out? Would she slam the door in his face? Would she throw something at him? He was terrified of what might happen and that fear paralyzed him. It kept him sitting in that car, staring out the window, but as is true of all fear, it passed.

And then, without even realizing what he was doing, he threw open the door and ran. He sprinted across the yard, bolted down the stairs, and when he reached her door, he knocked. It wasn’t a forceful knock though. He didn’t want to scare her by banging on the damn thing. So instead he knocked on her door like he used to at Oxford and when he heard her voice, his heart nearly stopped.

“Come in!” she called out.

At the sound of her voice, he closed his eyes. Her voice was pleasant and inviting, a far cry from the last time he had heard it. She sounded genuinely happy and although he knew that happiness was meant for Francis, he couldn’t help but knock once more. He heard her approaching, he could hear her talking, and his smile grew ever wider, but then, when he saw the doorknob start to turn, he was suddenly struck with doubt, and unknowingly took a step back.

He couldn’t do it.

He needed more time.

He had to put distance between himself and Paulina, he had to get his ass back to the car so that he could think things through better, because he wasn’t ready to face her. He’d thought he was. He’d thought that all he had to do was show up and that everything would work itself out, but now that he was there, now that she was opening the door, his insecurities consumed him. They told him that he was worthless, that she would never take him back, that he was wasting his time. They unsettled him so much that his mind ordered his feet to make a run for it, but just as he was turning to go, the door opened, revealing Paulina.

And for a fleeting moment, he saw a smile on her face. He saw a beautiful smile adorning those precious lips of hers and he was so overcome with emotion that his eyes welled with tears. He never thought he’d see her smile again. After the accident, she had been so broken that he genuinely feared she would spend the rest of her life devoid of happiness, but there she stood, smiling. And that beautiful little smile took him back to the early days of their relationship. It made him remember when he showed up at her flat to take her out to see the Manchester United vs. Arsenal match, it made him remember all those times they went out bike riding through Oxford, it made him remember the loving way she would look at him from across the table. That smile brought back sweet memories that time had cast aside. That smile filled him with a renewed sense of purpose, and it didn’t matter that it soon vanished.

What mattered was that it had been there.

What mattered was that it gave him hope.

It was with that renewed hope that he took a step towards her. He felt that by closing the distance between them, some degree of intimacy might be reestablished, but when he took the step, Thea barked warningly. She didn’t know who he was. She didn’t trust him. All she knew was that he was a stranger who was approaching her beloved human. As such, she did the only thing she could do, she barked. And that was enough to snap sense back into Paulina. Had it not been for that bark, Paulina would’ve continued to stand in the doorway, utterly confused as to what the hell was going on, but thankfully for her, that bark brought her back. It forced her into action, and quick as she could, she lifted her free hand to the door and tried to slam it in his face, but Harry was quick. He immediately stuck his foot in the doorway.

Infuriated by his action, Paulina set Thea down on the bench in the entryway and proceeded to try to force the door shut. She didn’t care if she broke his foot or if his fingers were smashed. It was his own fault for being there. He should’ve known that he was an unwelcomed presence. Her silence and refusal to attend his brother’s wedding should have made that clear to him. She wanted nothing to do with him and she had been explicit in that. There was no room for him in her life. She had painstakingly crafted a new world for herself, one which she revolved around her studies and work and her puppy. Those were the most important things in her life. They were what gave her a sense of purpose and joy, and as much as she hated to admit it, there was a delicate balance that kept her from falling apart again, and she wasn’t about to have that ruined by him.

That was why she pushed with everything she had. She had to close that damn door, she had to keep him out, because she didn’t have space for him in her life anymore, nor did she want him in it, but unfortunately for her, she wasn’t strong enough to overpower him. Had she still weighed what she used to before the accident, had she still actively wrestled and played football and rugby, then she would’ve had a chance. Her body would’ve been capable of taking his on, but her body wasn’t like that anymore. Her body didn’t have the muscles that it once had, it didn’t have the strength. It was a body on the mend. It was mending from the days when she had dropped down to a concerning 98lbs. It was a body that had only recently started gaining back weight and strength, and it wasn’t strong enough to go up against Harry. He weighed over 200lbs and most of that was muscle. He was a physically fit man in his prime, and struggle as she did, she couldn’t close the door on him. Her 109lbs frame was nothing to his, and despite her best efforts, he ended up throwing the door open and she was sent stumbling backwards.

Had it not been for Harry rushed in after her, she would’ve fallen and hurt herself, but luckily for her physical wellbeing, he caught her before any damage could be done. He kept her from getting hurt, but there was no gratitude from her, because the moment he touched her, she began to struggle. She didn’t want his disgusting hands on her. After the accident, she had vowed never again to let him touch her, but there he was, holding her close and she was absolutely livid. And what made matters worse, was the fact that her arms were immobile, his grip kept them pinned to her body. All she could do was squirm and kick and try to hit him with her head, she tried to hit his chin, but he was too far up, and out of frustration and anger, she began to scream and when she did that, Thea rushed over and attacked Harry. Had all her permanent teeth been in, she would’ve been able to do some real damage, but quite a few were still coming in, and instead of drawing blood, all she was able to do was discomfort him. Only a few teeth sank through the fabric of his paints and grazed his skin. They didn’t draw blood, but they made him aware that something wasn’t right, and it was then that he dropped his hold on Paulina.

“What in the bloody –” he began to bellow.

“Don’t hurt her!” she cried out as she rushed over to Thea. She didn’t hesitate in scooping the small puppy into her arms, and as soon as she did, she began to fuss. “Did that bad man scare you? I’m sorry if he did, but he’ll be gone soon. Yes, he will.” She placed hurried, apologetic kisses atop Thea’s head. “He won’t hurt you, corazoncito. I promise.”

“Hurt her?” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I’ve not done a thing! She’s the one that had a go at me.”

“Because you forced your way into our home!” she argued. “You’re a stranger and she was trying to –”

“I’m not a stranger,” he interjected.

“Yes, you are!” she snapped. “You’re a stranger and she wanted to protect me. That’s why she attacked. Now get the hell out of my house.”

“That’s not possible, I’m afraid.”

“What?”

“I-I’m not leaving,” he stuttered, finding it difficult to remain strong when she was glaring at him like that. “Not until we’ve had a proper talk.”

“And what do we have to talk about?” she asked him. “What do we have to discuss? Because I don’t have anything to say to you. There’s absolutely nothing I want to talk to you about. So do us both a favor and fuck off, because I don’t have time for whatever this is. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I have readings and interviews to go over, so just leave. Alright? Leave!”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking whether or not you felt like leaving. I was telling you to. Now get the hell out of my house and leave me alone!”

“Not going anywhere,” he reiterated. “At least not until you hear me out.”

“You are trespassing on private property and if you don’t get the hell out of here, I won’t hesitate in calling the cops,” she threatened. “Do you hear me? I’ll fucking call them. And I won’t care if they arrest you and you get told off by your family. I won’t give a damn about that.”

“But you will give a damn about the photographers that will swarm your home.” Harry countered. “Because surely, you know they will. The moment word gets out that I was arrested here, the press will descend. They will stop at nothing to get the story and if you thought it was bad before, it’ll be even worse this time around. So go on, get the police involved. I’ll wait here for them.”

“You fucking –”

“I suppose I should give Wills a ring.” He cut her off. “It’s only right he knows what to expect. That way he can get the legal team ready. In case it comes to that, of course.” He moved closer to her, and when there was only about a foot of distance, he stopped. “When the police arrive, do let them know I’m here.”

“You think I’m bluffing, don’t you?” she asked. “You think I’m just trying to scare you off, but I’m not. I’m serious about calling the cops.”

“Of course, you are,” he told her.

“I am!” she declared.

“Then give ‘em a ring,” he dared her. “Go on.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?” she cried out, exasperated. “Honestly, what do you want? What do you think you’re gonna get from talking to me? Do you think you’re gonna convince me to run off with you? Because if you do, you’re fucking delusional. If you do, you’ve seriously lost it, because I’m not going anywhere with you. So get the hell out of me house. Go! Because if you don’t, I’ll call the –”

“You keep threatening to call, but I don’t reckon you are.” And as he spoke, he sat down on her favorite armchair.

“Don’t you dare sit down!” she hissed. “You’re not welcomed here. Don’t you get that? You’re not a guest, you’re not even an acquaintance, you’re an asshole that screwed me over and there’s no place for you in my home. So get the hell out.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“That’s not happening.”

“Then I’ll stay right here until the police arrive.”

“Maldito seas (damn you)!” she cursed.

Harry watched in silence as she stormed off to her bedroom, and for a moment, he feared that she would lock herself in there. He had mentally prepared himself to be screamed at, to have insults flung at him in two languages, to have her throw things at him and to see her cry. He had prepared himself for a passionate confrontation that would leave them both emotionally exhausted. He hadn’t prepared himself to be ignored. That had never crossed his mind as a possibility. He figured that she was going to give him hell, because in the past, she had warned him that if he ever sought her out again, she would break whatever was left of his heart. That had been her promise to him, and he expected her to make good on it. He expected to be put through hell, not to be ignored. And he was terrified that despite her hostility, she had grown indifferent to him. He was afraid that his presence merely annoyed her when it should’ve infuriated. He feared that the hatred he had once seen in her eyes had faded into indifference.

If that had happened, there was no hope.

There was no coming back from indifference.

It was final.

It was worse than hatred, because at least hatred meant that there were still feelings involved. Hatred meant that the other person still actively felt something, it meant that they were hurt and that they hadn’t gotten over it, it meant that there was a slight possibility that that hatred could be worked on and altered. As long as she hated him, as long as she felt something towards him, there was a chance that he might be able to change her mind, but if she was indifferent towards him, that meant that she couldn’t be bothered, that meant that he had no hope, so when he saw her slam the bedroom door shut, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Was she going to lock herself in there until he gave up? Was she going to call the cops? That was what he thought about while she was in there. He was worried that he would never have the chance of spilling his heart to her, but just as he was resolving to force the door open, just as he was resolving to put everything out there, the door opened.

She emerged carrying a baseball bat. It was the one that she had used against the News of the World reporter that had broken into her flat at Oxford. She thought that it would scare him, that he would take off running and forget all about her, but the bat didn’t terrify him. It comforted. As sick and twisted as it was, the damn bat was a comfort. It was evidence that she was furious at him, and he was grateful for the fury.

“I’m not gonna call the cops.” Her hands trembled as she spoke. He was supposed to have run off already. He wasn’t supposed to still be in her living room. “And it’s not because I don’t want to inconvenience you. I’m not trying to be considerate. So don’t think that I am.” She needed to make sure he understood that. She didn’t want him acting as if she was trying to look out for him. “The reason I’m not calling is because I can’t deal with the press. Not after how it was last time. I . . . I don’t have it in me to go through that again, but that doesn’t mean you can stay here. I don’t want you here. You got that? I don’t want you in my home. I don’t want you around me, and I don’t give a fuck if want to talk me. What matters is that I don’t want to talk to you and that’s –”

“That’s not true,” he told her. “After how things ended between us, it can’t be.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s true though,” he went on. “And you know it is. Don’t you? That’s why you’re so livid. That’s why you’ve got that bat in your hands.”

“That’s enough!” she bellowed.

“Back then, at the hospital, you –”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m gonna swing.”

“You told me off a bit,” he ignored her warning. “It felt like loads more at the time. I swear, it did. After you went off on me, I bloody well lost it.” He took a step towards her, and when he did, she raised the baseball bat even higher and held it protectively. “I was haunted by your words. I’ve been haunted by them for quite some time, but as devastating as they were to hear, I know there’s more to them. I know you’ve more to say.”

“I don’t!” she declared. “I said everything I had to. Now get out before I hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You know I would.” Her grip tightened. “I didn’t hesitate in dislocating your shoulder. I won’t hesitate in –”

“Don’t say you won’t, when you already have.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’ve been doing quite a bit of talking and no swinging.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t do it.”

“It means you’re not keen to.” He countered. “You don’t want to hurt me.”

“But I will.”

She did her best to appear threatening. She puffed out her chest and furrowed her brow, but despite her tight grip on the bat, her arms trembled. She didn’t want to hit him. And why that was, she didn’t know. In the aftermath of losing Thea, she had had quite a few violent dreams. None of them included his death, but they did include black eyes, busted jaws, lost teeth, broken noses, and dislocated shoulders. She had dreamt of physically hurting him as badly as she had been hurt in the accident. She had dreamt of causing bodily harm. It was an unhealthy habit. She recognized that, but that didn’t stop her from having those dreams. Her subconscious kept brewing that up and it was because the time before her Boston terrier had been a very dark one for her. It was fourteen and a half months of hell, and she was so bitter and full of resentment and hatred towards the man that had turned his back on her and their daughter that she couldn’t help but fantasize about what she would do if she ever saw him again. She fantasized about hurting him, emotionally and physically, but now that he stood in front of her, all she wanted was for him to leave unharmed. Because dreaming about hurting him was one thing, actually going through with it was a different a thing entirely, because as much as she hated, as much as her pride urged her to swing, her heart couldn’t help but intercede. It had been badly wounded by the loss of Thea, it had been poisoned against Harry by her pride, but as she looked at him, as she stared into those tortured blue eyes, she couldn’t help but remember the dreams she had once had of Thea, she couldn’t help but remember the brunette little girl that possessed her father’s eyes. . .

“Then do it.” He walked right up to her and stopped about a foot away. “Go on. Do it. It’s the only way to get me to leave, and even then, it’s not guaranteed. After all, it won’t be the first time this week that I’ve been hit by a Balcázar. Not that that’s news to you. Your brother surely already told you.” He watched as her eyes flickered with confusion. “You mean to say you don’t know? Bloody hell! I thought you did. In fact, I thought you’d been told I was coming. I reckoned your family would have given you warning, what with my having been there on Thanksgiving.”

“What?” she whispered.

“Showed up at your parents’ house, thought you were there,” he explained. “Didn’t make it inside, though. Before I even knocked, Luis showed up and had a go at me. He did this,” he pointed to his bruised nose. “Got a nasty arm on him, he does. All it took was one punch and the damn thing broke, but that’s beside the point. I don’t bloody care that he broke my nose, just like I won’t bloody care if you have a go at me with that there bat. I’m alright with pain. Truly, I am. It’s what I’ve been trained for. The military and these last sixteen months have prepared me for this. So go on, have at it, but know that when you’ve had your fill, I’m not gonna waste time in telling you that I still . . .” his voice wavered, he’d dreamt countless times of this moment, but now that it was there, now that it was happening, he found it hard to believe that it was real, but he had to tell her, he had to confess his emotions and let her know that despite their prolonged separation and their complicated history, he still felt the same for her. “. . . I still love you.”

“Love?” she scoffed. “What the hell do you know about love, you fucking spineless coward? You turned your back on me when I needed you most! You fucking tried to throw me into a closet so that you could force me into an abortion and you have the audacity to tell me you love me? Fuck you! Fuck your love! Your love ain’t shit! Because it’s not real.”

“It is!” he cried out.

“It’s not!” she hissed. “It’s fair-weather love. That’s what it fucking is. It’s the kind that sticks around when everything’s alright, but the moment shit gets hard, it runs off.”

“That’s not bloody true. I was with you when the photographer broke into your flat, I was with you at court, I was –”

“I don’t give a damn about that. None of that matters!”

“Like hell it doesn’t!” he snapped. “It’s bloody proof that I’ve been there for you. That I was serious about us, and that I still bloody am!”

“You were with me in court when you had nothing to lose,” she told him. “That’s when you stood by me. That’s when you had my back. But what happened when I told you I was pregnant? What happened then? Did you stand at my side? Did you tell me that you’d support me no matter what? Did you tell me that you loved me?”

“I . . .”

“No,” she answered for him. “You didn’t do any of that. The first word that came out of your mouth was no, and then you said, we can’t. And don’t try to argue with me, because I know that for a fact. I remember every single thing you said to me that night. So don’t try to tell me that I’m remembering things wrong, because I’m not. You were a fucking coward that cared more about your title and wealth than you did about me. You told me that you couldn’t risk being disinherited by your grandmother.” She fought back a sob. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “That night, you showed your true colors. You showed that you didn’t have the guts to stand at my side against the world, so don’t you dare try to tell me that you love me and that you’re serious about us, because I’m not gonna believe you. In fact, you know what? This is what I think about your love.” And when she finished saying that, she spat on the ground. “That’s what I think about your love. That’s what I think about you. So get the hell out of my house, because I’m not warning you again.”

“You’re bitter.” He stated. “And I don’t blame you, I was an absolute cad.”

“I don’t need you to validate my feelings!”

“Course not,” he said. “And I wasn’t trying to, not really. Your feelings are yours and they are what they are, I only meant to say that I recognize that I made a mess of things. I should’ve never told you to get rid of the little one. I should’ve never said that I didn’t want her, because I did. Honest, I did.”

“Get out of my house!” she cried out. She didn’t want him mentioning her daughter. She didn’t want his filthy lips talking about her. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“I love her.” He yelled over Paulina. “And not a day goes by when I don’t think about how life would’ve turned out had I been an honorable man. Can you imagine what she would’ve looked like? I have, loads of times. Not a night goes by when I don’t dream about our little family. In fact, the night before Thanksgiving, I dreamt about us, but it wasn’t just us, it was Thea, and she was older, and bloody hell, ya should’ve seen her. She was a beauty and she was so happy, fucking hell, she was so happy. She was climbing trees and giggling about and she was going to go to the airport to pick up your parents because you were going to have another little girl, and –”

He didn’t get to finish that thought. In fact, it was a miracle he got as far along as he did, because the instant he started talking about their little family and Thea, Paulina lost it. She hated hearing him talk about Thea. Didn’t he know Thea was hers? He lost the right to think and dream about her, when he turned his back on the pregnancy. He lost the right to ever mention her name again, but there he was, going on about how they lived a lovely little life, and how Thea loved to climb trees and giggle, and it broke her heart to hear her daughter spoken of. It broke her heart to hear that he thought of Thea exactly as she did. During the nights before puppy Thea, Paulina had often dreamt and wondered about her little girl, she’d imagined that she would have curly dark brown hair, her father’s brilliant blue eyes and mischievous grin, she had imagined that Thea would have an affinity for climbing trees and laughing when she got into trouble. She had dreamt of Thea as Harry had dreamt of her, and that not only infuriated Paulina, it broke her heart. He dreamt of them living happily, he dreamt of their having another little girl, he dream beautiful things, but those dreams should’ve been kept to himself.

Over the course of the last month and a half, Paulina had very carefully crafted a new reality for herself. In it, there was no miscarried child. There was no royal ex-boyfriend. There was only the campaign. There was only her studies. There was only the little Boston terrier that followed her everywhere and Francis and Stephanie and Meredith, who made her smile and laugh. That was her life. And there was a very delicate balance in place that kept her from spiraling right back into depression. There was a delicate balance that kept her afloat, but that fucking ginger had ruined it all when he opened his mouth and started talking about Thea and her little sister, that fucking ginger tore off the flesh colored Band-Aid that Paulina had placed over the wound to trick herself into believing that everything was alright, and when he tore it off, when he exposed the fact that she hadn’t had closure, the fact that she wasn’t actually better, the fact that she had used a puppy and friends and work to ignore the fact that she wasn’t alright, she felt the desperation and hurt strike her full blast.

And it terrified her, but more than that, it infuriated her. She had tricked herself into believing that she was better and that life was great, but that comforting delusion had been snatched from her, the veil had been lifted, and she realized that she was still the same girl that had been wheeled out of the hospital by her brother, but unlike that injured creature, she had full use of her arms, she had no difficulty speaking or breathing, and best of all, she had a baseball bat in her hands. And so she did the only thing that an emotionally unstable person that doesn’t know how to process their feelings could do, she swung. But she didn’t swing at him. She swung at the coffee table, and kept swinging and swinging until it was nothing more than a broken mess, and when she finished, she dropped the bat and looked at him. She glared at him with tears streaming down her face.

“Are you happy now?” she cried out. “You’ve won! You’ve fucking won!”

“I –”

“I wanted you gone so it wouldn’t come to this again,” she talked on. “I thought if I could get you out quick enough, I wouldn’t get this way, but you refused to leave! I threatened with the cops, I fucking threatened to beat you with a bat, but you just wouldn’t leave! What the hell is wrong with you? Honestly, what’s your problem? You leave me alone for well over a year and then you randomly show up? What the hell’s up with that? Did you feel that I was doing okay? Did you sense that I was moving on and that I was kind of happy with life? Did you? Because I think you did. I think you knew I succeeded in creating a new life for myself and you just couldn’t let me have that. You couldn’t let me be happy! So you had to come over here and fuck everything up! Well congratulations, you did it! The unstable bitch is back!”

“The last thing I wanted was to distress you. I only wanted to make things right.”

“Things are never gonna be right between us,” she told him. “Don’t you get that? I mean, do you honestly think that we can move on from what happened?”

“If we put in the effort, we could.” His voice was soft. His eyes, pleading. “And I’m willing to do most of the work. I am, truly. I’ll do whatever you ask, only give me the opportunity, because I’ve tried to live without you. I’ve tried to get on with my life, but there’s no getting on. I’ve not lived since we parted. I’ve not –”

“Haven’t lived?” she scoffed. “Give me a fucking break. I’ve seen pictures of you partying it up. I’ve seen the array of women you’ve been screwing around with.”

“Then you’ve seen that they’ve all somehow resembled you.” He hated to admit that, but he had no choice. “You noticed that, didn’t you? Surely, you did. I always went after the fair skinned brunettes. I figured that one of them might do the trick, and when the British ones failed to comfort. I wandered over to the Mexican embassy and sought those out. It wasn’t easy, you know. They were so bloody distrustful, I suppose they knew what I was doing, but they came around in the end and in a few short months, I had slept with every female staff member and had made my way through the wives of the male staff.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” she whispered.

“When I was with them, I would often close my eyes while they spoke Spanish, that way I could pretend they were you and it was therapeutic. It made me feel better, but afterwards, I was always worse off. I would leave feeling cheated. I always felt that those woman had tricked me into thinking they were you, which is ridiculous, because I seduced them and I asked them to call me güerito, but the fact remains that I hated every last one of them for not being you. I just desperately wanted one of them to fill the void you left. But how could they? How could anyone? There’s no one like you. Believe me, I’ve looked. I’ve shagged my way through London’s Spanish speaking population and through a fair bit of California and Arizona’s, but I’ve not found your equal. I’ve not found anyone that comes close and it’s because I can’t just grab some random bird who kind of looks like you and expect her to be you. That’s not how it bloody works! I need you. I ache for you. I’m bloody driving myself mad and I can’t go on like this . . . I can’t.”

He waited for her to say something. He expected for her to tell him that he was disgusting, that he was a pig for having used those women, that she didn’t want him anywhere near her, but when he looked into her eyes, he saw pity. When he looked into those dark brown orbs he loved so much, he saw compassion. He saw that even after everything that had happened between them, she couldn’t stand to see him in pain without being moved.

“Quiero volver a tus brazos (I want to return to your embrace),” he whispered, hoping that the phrase would evoke the memory of the night he serenaded her with the mariachi.

And it did, at the words her features softened. Her brow was no longer furrowed in a glare, her lips were no longer set in a thin line. The compassion that had started in her eyes, spread across her entire face, and altered her appearance so drastically that she resembled the girl that he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“My darling,” he whispered. There were joyful tears in his eyes. He feared that he would never see her like that again, but there she was, there were those kind eyes and the gentle smile that he had fallen for.

Overwhelmed with joy, he reached out. Foolishly thinking that if he were to brush his fingertips across her cheek, she would succumb to his touch and take him back, but his action had the opposite effect. She tensed at his touch, it sent shivers down her back and although her heart urged her to relax, although her heart begged her to forgive and to take the love that was being offered to her, the damn Balcázar pride returned and swept away all trace of compassion and love.

“No,” whispered Harry when he saw the transformation take place. “Don’t do that, darling. Please, don’t bloody do that. Don’t let your pride condemn us to misery.”

“It’s not my pride that’s done it. It’s you.” She took a step back, wanting to put distance between them. “The moment you said you wouldn’t raise Thea with me, was the moment you condemned us to this, because I told you that if you didn’t recognize her, I would leave and you would never see me again. Do you remember that? Do you remember how I begged you to reconsider? Because I do.” She closed her eyes as the memory struck her. She remembered the tears that were shed, the way her voice cracked, she remembered everything and as she remembered, tears fell and her hand instinctively founds its way to her empty womb. “I wanted us to raise her together.” As she rubbed her womb, she opened her eyes and caught his gaze. “I wanted us to be a family. Was I terrified? Of course I fucking was. I was scared shitless about what would happen when everyone found out, but I never questioned having her. I never doubted my decision, because all I wanted was to raise our daughter together. I wanted to be your wife and to be the mother of your children. That was what I wanted from life, but I didn’t get to have that.” She gritted her teeth. “I didn’t get to be your wife. I didn’t even get to be a single mom! What I would give to have been able to be that. I don’t even care if my family would’ve turned their backs on me, as long as I would’ve had Thea, it would’ve been okay, I could’ve made things work, but I didn’t get to have her. I didn’t even get to see her. I asked the doctor if I could. I begged him to let me, so that I could at least say I saw her, but he said they disposed of her. Can you believe that? They didn’t even let me say goodbye. I think I would’ve been better if they had. I think I wouldn’t have been like this. At least, I hope I wouldn’t have, because unlike you, my misery didn’t lead me to fuck random strangers. If only that had been it. I could’ve dealt with that. A few meaningless fucks would’ve been alright, but I spent fourteen and a half months sulking about and getting angry every single time I got a period.”

He cocked his brow in confusion.

“See that’s the thing about being a man, you don’t get monthly reminders that you didn’t get to be a dad. I do. And ya should’ve seen me the first time I got my period after the miscarriage.” She stopped rubbing her womb. She instead balled her hand into a fist, and clenched the fabric of her pants as she did so. “I fucking lost my mind. I remember shrieking, just fucking shrieking and crying, and my parents had gone to the swap meet and Luis was in charge of taking care of me, and he fucking runs into the bathroom and finds me lying on the floor with my hands covered in blood. Poor Luis tried to calm me down, he did everything he could, but I just would not stop crying. I kept screaming and I was just so angry because I felt that my body was taunting me. I thought it was mocking me, and he ended up having to sedate me in order to clean me up and calm me down. He fucking covered for me during those four days. If it hadn’t been for him standing guard, I have no doubt that I would’ve done something very stupid and very dangerous . . .”

“That’s not true. Ya wouldn’t have. You would never.”

“If it makes you feel better, go ahead and think that. I honestly don’t care if you pretend that I was better than I actually was. I just want you to know what I went through, because you fucked and you drank and you did a bit of coke, I remember that headline. I saw it at the market, but unlike you, I didn’t get to trick myself into believing things were better. I had this shit shoved in my face regularly, every month I got a period and sometimes when I was sleeping, I swear that I would feel something move in my uterus, and then fucking Raphael and Teresa got pregnant. Those fucking asshole got knocked up and you want to know when they announced? Two fucking weeks after I got back from England!” A manic glint flared up in her eyes. “Those pricks thought they were giving the family good news to boost our moods, they thought they were doing everyone a favor, but I wanted to beat their smiling faces. I wanted to push Teresa down stairs, I wanted to make that fucking bump stop growing, because my belly was supposed to grow, I was supposed to get fat and have cravings and I was robbed of that! I was robbed of my pregnancy and there she was, the bitch already had two kids and she was having her third. And she was smiling. Oh! How I hated her. She was always smiling and telling me if I wanted to rub her belly.” She blinked away the hot tears that threatened to fall. “Fucking hell, I was so happy when I went back to Harvard. My parents tried to talk me into taking a semester off, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing her getting bigger and bigger every day, and when I went back for the holidays, I hated how huge her belly was, and then you know what happened? You want to know when she gave birth? February first. One day after my projected due date. That was when they got to have their baby. They were so happy and everyone wanted me to go home. My mother kept saying that we should fly out to see the baby, that we should be there with them, but I told her to go by herself, that I couldn’t leave Cambridge. And bless my mom, she’s such a good woman, she stayed with me instead of seeing her third grandchild be born. She sacrificed that so I would be taken care of. And I felt like such a bitch, but I was glad that she was with me instead of them, I was glad they didn’t get to have her there, because it wasn’t right that they were having another baby when I didn’t even get to have one. I hated that baby before I even saw them. And you know what? I still hate them. I’m their godmother and I can’t stand the sight of them. That’s fucked up. Isn’t it? That’s some real fucked up shit, and I had that all bottled up. I had been able to deceive myself into ignoring all that, I had tricked myself into thinking that I wasn’t so messed up, that was what my little puppy did for me. Thea made me feel that –”

“You named her Thea?”

“Theodora Louise Balcázar.” Paulina confirmed. “I figured that if I gave her the name, I would be able to mother a Thea and I would get better. And I did! I was better until you showed up.”

“You weren’t better.” He was surprised at the firmness in his tone. “You were only pretending.”

“And I was doing one hell of a job at it,” she muttered bitterly.

“But you wouldn’t have been able to keep at it forever.” He told her. “It was bound to come crashing, and you know it. Don’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” He argued. “It matters because you hadn’t moved on. Better said, you haven’t moved on. You’re still hurt, you’re still angry, and as much as you must hate to admit it, there is still a place for me in your heart. And don’t try to say there’s not, because I know there is. I saw it in your eyes and it’s the reason you didn’t swing at me. There’s still love, might be a bit, but it’s still there. And there must be a part of you that believes me when I say that when I went out into the garden, I didn’t go to force you into an abortion, I went to ask for your forgiveness.”

“There’s not,” she said, dismissively.

“Look me in the eyes then,” he said. “You were always good at telling when people were lying. Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m fibbing.”

“Don’t be dumb. I’m not doing that.”

“Because you know I’m telling the truth.”

“Even if you were, it wouldn’t make a difference!” she snapped.

“Wouldn’t make a difference?” he scoffed. “Of course, it bloody would! It’d prove that I wanted Thea to be born and that I wanted to marry you and start a life in a cottage in the country. It’s prove that I didn’t turn my back on you.”

“It wouldn’t erase these last sixteen months.”

“But it would make you respect me again.” He remembered how much respect to her and her family. “You once said you could never be with a man that you don’t respect, and I understand that, I do. But if you believe me when I say that I wanted you and Thea, then you wouldn’t think of me as a coward anymore, then you would respect me and we could start over again. And look, I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m only asking for another go.”

“Henry,” she said his name softly, but it was the first time that she had said his name and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Say it again, please.”

“Don’t . . .” she began.

“Please,” he begged.

“Henry,” she repeated. “Respect or not, I can’t do this again with you. I’m sorry.”

“But if you respect me, you’ll love me and you can be with me. We can start over!”

“I don’t want to!” she cried. “I don’t want to date a Prince again!”

“Then I’ll stop being a Prince.” He declared. “I’ll give up the damn title, get out of the line of succession. I’ll simply be Harry Mountbatten-Windsor and we’ll live in the country and I’ll be a helicopter pilot and we’ll be happy.”

“That’s the thing though, I don’t want any of that.” She felt almost guilty saying that. “I don’t want to live in England.”

“But where would we live?” he asked in a small, childlike voice. “It’s the only place where I can make a living. I already have a career that can provide for a family. I –”

“Give it up,” she said. “Give up the title, the career, the country and live here with me.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about making a living, I can do that for us. I graduate this year. I already have worked lined up. I can support us, but you have to give up what I would give up if I were to go to England with you.”

“I . . . I don’t understand.”

“If you want to be with me, you have to give all that up. Simple as that.” She was testing him.

“But I can’t.” It pained him to say so. “I’ll give up the title and we’ll never had to do anything royal related, we’ll be private citizens in England! We’ll go about our lives like anyone else would.”

“I don’t want to live in England,” she repeated.

“But that’s what you wanted. When you were pregnant, you told me you would give everything up so that we could live with Thea in the country. You said you would leave Harvard and that –”

“You’re right,” she said. “There was a time when I was willing to do that. When I was pregnant, I was more than willing to leave behind my country and my studies and my family and my religion, just so that I could be with you and our daughter. I was more than happy to do whatever it was that needed doing, but not anymore. I’ve made my life, Henry. I’ve chosen what I want and forgive me, but being your stay at home wife isn’t it.”

“But you respect me again. You love me.”

“I gave you a choice. The same choice you gave me.”

“It’s absurd though. I can’t give up my military career!”

“And I can’t give up my political aspirations,” she countered. “I’ve worked too hard to get where I am today. I know the President. Okay? I’ve had deep and meaningful conversations with him regarding immigration reform. He calls me kiddo and has asked me for my opinion on a few things because he wanted to know what a young Hispanic woman thinks on the subject. And I know the Clintons, and I have Bernie Sanders phone number and I have been kicking ass in Washington.” She smiled proudly when she said that. “Warren and I rocked the implementation of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau. My name is out there, it has credibility, and as God is my witness, I’m gonna be in the House of Representatives by the time I’m 32 and in my early forties, I’m taking the Senate. I’ve made my choice and I’m keeping to it.”

“You can’t do this though. You can’t give us up! You can’t give me up.”

“I gave you up a long time ago, Henry.”

That was it. The final blow.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you anymore.” She felt it necessary to say that. “I mean, I am pissed off that you ruined my charade, but I, uh, I guess it was bound to happen. And I do mean what I said about not hating you. I don’t. I really don’t.”

“Well at least this was good for that.” He forced himself to say. “It was certainly worth the broken nose.”

“I am sorry about that.”

“No you’re not,” he told her. “And anyway, it was long overdue. I was certain it was going to happen at the hospital, but your brother was on his best behavior. He didn’t want to make a fuss in front of strangers, but when the opportunity presented itself again, he took it. He had threatened to break it, and you know as well as I that Balcázars always keep their words.”

“It’ll heal.” She stepped towards him and slowly lifted her hand to his face.

Gently, she allowed her fingertips to brush against the left side of his nose. She didn’t mean for her fingers to linger, she hadn’t even meant to touch him, but when he felt her skin against his, he lifted his hand to hers and held it in place.

“Henry . . .”

He didn’t respond. He merely closed the distance between them and when he could feel the heat from her body, he dropped his hold on her hand and embraced her one last time. She was tense at first, unsure of how to response. She didn’t want him holding her. She didn’t know if she had it in her to refuse him when he was holding her so tenderly, but before she decided whether or not to hug him back, he pulled away and left.

He stepped out into the chilly November night with tears in his eyes. He had thought that he had gotten through to her, he had thought that she was going to run off with him, that they were going to start a quiet life in England, but she had been unwilling to do so, and he, although willing to renounce his title and wealth, was unwilling to renounce the career that he had sacrificed so much for. Perhaps if he’d been out of training longer, the idea would’ve been appealing, but he had just been through hell. He had just been reconditioned for his duty and as a solder, he couldn’t turn his back on that. It was sacred, almost. And perhaps to civilians that wouldn’t have made any sense, but those in the armed forces would’ve understood.

When Harry climbed the last stair, he saw a figure growing closer to him. In the darkness he couldn’t really tell who it was. All he could see was that they were tall and a lean sort of muscular, so he thought it was Kamal.

“Get the car ready,” he ordered, doing his best not to sound as broken as he was. “Go on, Kamal. I’m keen to leave.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” replied a voice in a distinct Boston accent.

“Bloody hell, it’s you.” Harry wrinkled his nose at the sight of him. “Do you never leave her? You were here all bloody weekend and you only just left and now you’ve –” he stopped himself before his jealousy truly flared. “Forget it. There’s no point in quarrelling. It’s not like I’ve reason to. I’m nothing to her, nothing at all.”

“Are you drunk?” asked Francis.

“Not yet, though within the hour, I’ll certainly be so.” Harry laughed bitterly. “Don’t mind me though. I’m of no interest to you. You were never keen on me. S’alright though. The feeling’s mutual. Not that it matters what you feel towards me or I feel towards you. What matters is that you’ll take care of her, won’t you?”

“That’s what I’ve been doing. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Right, right, of course. You’ve been looking after her long before I showed up. But if you don’t mind me asking – why? You’re older, you’re not at uni with her, and don’t say it’s because of your dad, because from you, I won’t believe it. So why are you always hanging about? Why are you always there?” He paused, and when he saw the look in Francis’ eyes, he understood. “You love her. Don’t you? I don’t even know why I’m asking if I can tell by the look of you. I’ve seen concerned friends. I saw the way Alfred looked at me at the hospital. I saw the rage in her brother’s eyes, but you . . . the look you’ve got is one I’ve only seen on myself. So don’t bloody hurt her. Please, don’t. She’s head enough of that to last a lifetime.”

“Your ass definitely had too much to drink,” was what Francis’ said. “We need to get you somewhere warm. Where are your guards? Those fuckers need to get you back to your kingdom. That’ll straighten you out.”

“There’s only one thing that’ll sort me and she wants nothing to do with me.”

“Come on, man. Don’t be like that. You’re a fucking Prince. You’ll be alright. You know? Despite this shit, you’ll be fine. So just go get some more drinks in you and get at some ladies. That’ll definitely cheer you up and in time, you’ll see that she was just another girl.”

“But she’s not,” argued Harry. “You know she’s not. She’ll never have been just another girl, and there’ll never be another one that can take her place. Believe me, I’ve tried looking for someone to make do with, but I’ve not had any luck.”

“Try harder then.” Francis advised. “Because it’s not like you have any other choice.”