create your art? Absolutely. I don’t see why it has to be all or nothing.”
More tears roll down my cheeks. “But it doesn’t change who I am, Bella. The Queen of Cod.”
“Roman is a gardener. Clementine is an American. The world is changing, and it’s bloody well time we caught up with it. Starting with following our hearts.”
“But they aren’t with the direct heir to the throne,” I argue.
“No. But how are we going to move forward if the Prince of Wales himself doesn’t represent a changing world? Don’t you think by being with you, Xander is connecting more with the people he serves? That he represents a reality they understand with his choice? This shows he’s a man who doesn’t judge based on birthright or wealth, but the person inside. That when he marries, it won’t be about a position or a duty fulfilled, but because he found someone to love.”
My pulse quickens with her words. I can hear the truth in them.
“People want our traditions,” she says, continuing. “The pomp and pageantry. We give that to them. You can give them that just as well as I can. There will always be people who don’t like you. Who will scorn you and ridicule you. But you told me not to hide from them. Well, you shouldn’t, either. Xander doesn’t care what people think. He never has. Neither should you. You only live once, Poppy. Once. If you love Xander, if you think you can do this life for him in the future, then make it right. Make it right before it’s too late. People want to see a fairy tale. And you might be able to give them the best one of all.”
Before I can say a word, I hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. My heart slams against my ribs.
Within seconds, the door is angrily flung open, crashing into the wall with fury.
And standing in the doorway is Xander.
Chapter Thirty
As It Should Be
The world stops the second Xander appears. I can’t breathe. My heart freezes inside my chest.
His hair is dishevelled. His pale-blue dress shirt is rumpled. Xander’s chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. His jaw is set.
But then I dare to look him in the eye.
I gasp. I’m destroyed the second I do. His vivid blue eyes are hard. Furious.
And hurt.
My whole chest feels like it’s caved in. The pain is suffocating, and once again, I feel as if I can’t get any air to breathe.
Because I know Xander hates me for what I’ve done to him.
And the look in his eyes tells me he will never forgive me for this.
“I’m going to leave you both alone,” Bella says quietly, rising from the bed.
Xander steps into the room as Bella passes him. She looks at me one last time, her eyes begging me to reconsider what I’ve done. To fix this before it’s beyond repair.
To save my heart—and his.
But as my eyes remain locked with his, I think it might be too late.
Too late.
The magnitude of what I’ve done crashes down on me. My spine of steel, of resolve to save him from me, collapses. Because all I can think of is how much I love him. How much I need him. How Bella’s words might be true, that it doesn’t matter who he marries, the world will treat us all the same. And if that is the case, do I want Xander to love someone other than me?
No, I think as a violent pain grips me. I do not.
I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. Another lump has formed in my throat, and I can’t shove it down. New tears well in my eyes. I don’t even try to stop them from falling.
Xander doesn’t say anything. He pierces me with that cold stare, which is breaking me into fragments.
Then, to my surprise, he whips around and faces the wall.
Anguish rips me apart. Xander is so pained and disgusted, he can’t even look at me.
He exhales sharply. Then he runs his hands through his midnight-black hair over and over, to where it’s sticking up all over his head.
“I can’t look at you,” he finally says, his voice raw with emotion.
Waves of desperation hit me as I stare at his back.
What have I done to him? To myself?
To us?
“I can’t look at you,” Xander says slowly, “because I can’t stay angry. Because when I look at you, all I can think of is how much I love