One second for her to memorize everything she saw inside the room—-
Matte gray walls.
A low ceiling.
White blinds drawn shut over four pairs of windows.
A pile of empty boxes next to a gray couch.
A money tree on the opposite corner.
And at the center of the room was the prince, dressed in his beautiful black tux, and there was something hurtfully nostalgic in the way he was perched on the edge of the desk.
His green eyes collided with hers.
Surreal, everything was so stupidly, painfully surreal.
He was alone, but it didn’t matter.
Lou wasn’t with him, but she almost wished it were the other way around.
Because the way the prince was looking at her now—-
One second, Fawn thought numbly again.
One second for her to immortalize the scene in her mind.
One second for her world to crumble.
One second for the ground to disappear under her, and then she was falling, falling, falling—-
Heartbreak was viciously cruel like that.
“I paid Lou Merrill a million dollars to stay away from you.”
The prince’s voice was perfect in its cadence, perfect in its absence of emotion. Listening to it made her feel faint, and Fawn wondered numbly if heartbreak could be an actual illness.
“I’ve made sure she’s aware of the consequences if she chooses to break her word.”
She heard the words, knew what it meant, but she couldn’t make herself care. All she could do was stare at him.
Why, why, why do you have to do this?
She watched the prince shove his hands deep into his pockets, knew he was going to tell her it was all over.
She started to open her mouth—-
To beg, to demand, to cry—-
But the prince forestalled her. “Don’t do this, Fawn.”
His quiet, sharp command sewed her trembling lips shut.
“You know I could have done this in a more hurtful way, don’t you?” The prince’s tone became quiet, almost weary, and oh, how it magnified her hurt, making it a thousand times worse, making it impossible for her to speak—-
Yes.
Yes, she did know.
She knew this could have been so much worse, knew he could have made it the way he had once told her—-
Pay Lou Merrill a million dollars to fuck her in front of Grant, maybe another million if Fawn was there, too.
She knew he could have made that happen.
She knew.
“But I didn’t.” The prince looked at her, and all she could do was look back at him—-
Oh, prince.
Just because he didn’t make it worse didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.
But she locked the words away, knowing if she let one slip, the tears would come with it.
“Because I’m fond of you.”
Ah.
He was fond of her.
Oh, prince.
You have to know I love you, and you—-
Her hands crept up to her mouth, forcing everything back.
“I wish you and Bennett a happy life together.”
Ah.
Her vision wavered, his beautiful face began to multiply, and she found herself numbly wondering if heartbreak could be an actual illness.
A thousand things rushed to her mind—-
Do what you couldn’t do earlier.
Beg. Cry. Scream.
Stop him from leaving.
Tell him you love him.
But when she saw the prince come to his feet, it was the words that weren’t planned at all that fell from her lips.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
The prince stilled.
“D-did you really think I was that much of an idiot?” A tremulous laugh escaped her. “Did you really think I loved you so l-little I wouldn’t know?” Her voice broke. “When you came here tonight, you didn’t have to tell me anything. I saw it in your eyes—-”
She stared at the prince, willing him to deny it, begging him to tell her she had it all wrong—-
But the prince only stared back at her.
“You’ve decided it was time to leave me,” she choked out. “Didn’t you?”
The prince’s gaze didn’t leave her as he said simply, “Yes.”
Oh God.
“Because it’s become painfully obvious that you’re no longer in love with Bennett.” The prince’s tone was flat. “You were in love with me.” The impenetrable mask on his beautiful face told her what he felt behind the words.
And it was nothing.
He felt nothing.
Nothing.
He knew she loved him, and he—-
And he—-
She forced herself to laugh. “It’s not going to be that easy, p-prince. You won’t be able to push me away that easily. Been there, done that, and since it didn’t work then—-” Her voice started to rise. “Why would you think it would be different now?”
“I already told you,” he said gently.
“And I’m saying I don’t believe you!” Fawn knew she was being hysterical. But she couldn’t stop herself. “You’re pushing me