“Do you think you can be friends with a guy after you’ve slept with him?” I ask my older sister, Sara.
“No.”
I sigh and lean my head back on the cushy leather reclining chair in the living room of her suite at Amalie Palace. The palace is my home away from home ever since Sara married Prince Adrian Rourke. I can always count on her to be honest with me. Still, I don’t want it to be true.
“But—” I start.
“No.” She leans forward from the adjacent sofa and squeezes my hand. Her green eyes are direct. “Chloe, I know you think what you had with Michael was a friends-with-benefits arrangement, but what you actually had was a relationship.”
I frown. It’s been three months since I turned down Michael’s proposal, which, by the way, was a complete shock. I had no idea he felt that way. He’s a palace guard I met while visiting Sara, here on Villroy Island just off the coast of southwestern France. I hope we can remain friends. I’ll be a regular visitor to Villroy since Sara lives here.
Sara pushes her blond hair behind her ears and continues in her motherly way. She’s seven years older and raised me after our parents died. “You remember how I was before Adrian? I was so closed off, unwilling to take a chance on someone and let them into my heart. And you told me to go for it with him. Chloe, that was the best decision of my life. Look at me now, happy as I’ve ever been, married with a beautiful baby boy.”
I swallow the lump of emotions lodged in my throat. I love that Sara is so happy. She deserves it. “I’m thrilled for you, you know that, but it’s not the same situation at all. Adrian was your childhood friend. It was like destiny or something. Michael is not my destiny.”
“That may be true,” she says gently. “What I’m trying to say is that even though the external circumstances are different with our situations, on the inside you and I are very much the same. Because of what happened with Mom and—”
I hold up a palm. “This has nothing to do with them.” I barely remember our parents because they died when I was only six. I secretly think I’m broken. I never cry. Even when my parents died, I didn’t. Sara says I went mute for three months instead. And I didn’t love Michael back, even though he’s a good guy.
She sighs. “Okay. I just want to encourage you to open up a little. You tend to shut down.” Her brows draw together. “I’m afraid I set a bad example for you the way I didn’t connect with other people in a meaningful way for so long. I want better for you. You’re a caring person with a lot of love to give.”
“I love Henry.” That’s my baby nephew, her son.
She smiles. “I know you do, but he’s too little to contribute to your social life.”
I laugh.
She wags a finger, saying in a light tone, “Even serious students are allowed to have a boyfriend. It’s called work-life balance, and sometimes that means taking a risk when the right person comes along. No matter how scary it feels.”
I straighten in my seat. I’m not scared. Sara didn’t go to college, so she doesn’t understand the pressure. I’m double majoring in biology and chemistry at Columbia University in New York City on an accelerated path to graduate in three years, and then I’m off to medical school. I always knew doing what I was born to do, ultimately becoming a medical researcher, would mean I had to make some sacrifices. Long hours and hard work are part of the deal. I just never wanted anyone else to get hurt because of it.
The door to the suite opens. My brother-in-law, Adrian, strides in, holding my three-month-old nephew, Henry. Adrian is tall with dark brown hair, warm hazel eyes, and the classic Rourke angular cheekbones and square jaw. “He’s hungry,” he says to Sara.
“Aww, hi, Henry!” I say. I met him the day after he was born, back in September, and now we’re reunited again. He pays no attention to me. He’s fussing in Adrian’s arms, screwing up his little face in preparation for a major cry session.
Sara rapidly undoes the buttons on her blouse and holds her arms out to him. Adrian transfers the baby over to nurse. The three of them sit close together