Melissa grins, and I turn to my plate again. I force myself to eat a few bites, and the nausea inside me settles. Laying a hand on my pregnant stomach, I sigh.
Once again, my child has saved me. Anytime I falter, he or she gives me strength—even in the form of sharp kicks to the ribs.
As I finish my food, I scoot back on the floor and lean my back against the couch.
“Chin up, Margot,” Melissa says, grabbing an unfinished bite off my plate. “It’ll be okay.”
“I guess it was too much to expect that the Prince would agree to take care of my unborn child.” I smile sadly. “It was fun while it lasted.”
“Look, Margot, you need to realize that you don’t need him. You don’t need anyone.” Mel stares at me, stretching her legs out and leaning back against her elbows. “You’re honestly the strongest person I’ve ever met. You’ve been the sole breadwinner for your family since you were a preteen. You watched your mother get sick and die. You watched your father leave once you made enough money for him to retire, and you fired your agent when you found out he was a horrible person. You faltered, sure, but you got yourself some help and are now pulling yourself together. You found out you were pregnant and took it in stride.”
I shake my head. “I feel the exact opposite of strong. A gust of wind could send me into a mental breakdown.”
“You and me both,” Mel grins. “But seriously, Margot, you need to start feeling proud of yourself. You’ve accomplished so much, and you’ve been treated like shit by so many people.”
Sighing, I pinch my lips together. “I’ve made lots of mistakes.”
“You’re thinking of Prince Dante, aren’t you?”
Chuckling bitterly, I glance at Mel. “How did you know?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The wistful, sad look in your eyes. The way your hand moved over your baby bump.”
“That obvious, hey?” I bite my lip. “I should have been honest with him. I should have told him about the baby instead of waiting for it to come out in the media. I should have been honest about Beckett. If I’d have told him myself…”
“Look.” Mel stands up, moving to sit down next to me. “Stop blaming yourself. You know what I think?”
I shake my head.
Melissa tucks her knees in and rests her chin on top of them. “I think Prince Dante’s a coward. He told you he didn’t care who the father was and that he’d be there for you. He told you he loved you. He told you he wanted to be by your side. Why does that suddenly change when Beckett is the father?” she scoffs. “You don’t owe him anything. It’s your choice who you tell about your pregnancy.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Is it, though?”
One thing I love about Melissa is how fiercely loyal she is. She arches her eyebrows, waiting for my response. In her mind, I’m completely in the right, and Dante is completely in the wrong.
I sigh. “I think he feels used.”
“He feels used? Come on.” Mel snorts. “He needs to get over himself.”
“You don’t think I should have told him about Beckett?”
“Maybe, yeah. Everything happened so fast between the two of you, though. That kind of trust takes time to build up. You had yourself and your baby to worry about. He shouldn’t have kicked you out.”
“He didn’t. I left.”
“But would you have felt welcome if you stayed?”
I grimace.
“Exactly.”
“Mel, I know you’re trying to be nice, but I just…”
Melissa arches her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. I can’t find the words, though, so I just shrug.
The truth is, I’m heartbroken. I feel silly for thinking that Prince Dante would be there for me, and I’m a little bit embarrassed at how quickly I fell for him.
Mel wraps me in a hug, pulling away to look in my eyes. “I have an idea.”
There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, and I tilt my head. “Uh oh.”
“Hear me out.” She grins. “The past few months have been all over the place. You need to center yourself. You need to feel like yourself again. You are a gorgeous, strong woman. You’re going to be a mother. Nothing can bring you down.”
“Okay…”
Mel nods. “Photoshoot. Pregnancy announcement done your way. I say we go full glam, we hire the best photographer and reclaim this whole story. You need to take control of the narrative.”