for him to walk away, whether or not I’m carrying his child.
Picking up my phone, I type his name into a search engine. My eyes widen when I see news of his coronation. I didn’t even know it was happening today. I click on a video and watch the news coverage of the ceremony. My heart squeezes when I see his face on the screen, and I hold my phone just inches from my nose.
A tear leaks out of my eye, and I brush it away.
I have no right to be sad about this. I left. I said goodbye. I chose New York over Argyle. Myself over him. My dreams over his duty.
I was never meant to be Queen.
This is for the best. It’s what I wanted.
…Right?
The video cuts to Theo on the palace balcony, with his father by his side and his brothers standing behind him. This time, I don’t brush my tears away.
He looks regal. Strong. He smiles, waving to the thousands of Argylians that have gathered at the palace gates to greet their new king. My heart aches at the thought that I could have been there beside him.
Turning my phone’s screen off, I toss it aside and sob into my hands.
In the silence of my tiny apartment, as the crowd’s cheers are still ringing in my ears, I know I’ve made a mistake. I should have told him how I felt. I should have gotten over my own stupid pride and my misplaced desire to be independent.
I should have realized the thing that was smacking me in the face: I’m in love with Theo. Desperately. Hopelessly.
I love him more than I could have imagined. It burns a hole right through my chest, sending daggers of pain through to my fingers and toes.
Is love supposed to hurt this much?
My sobs turn to trembling whimpers, and I lay on the couch in the fetal position. I wrap my arms around my stomach and squeeze my eyes shut.
Theo is King now. That in itself is like the final nail in the coffin. I’m nothing but an aspiring singer. The youngest daughter of an Olympian and a wannabe socialite who failed to live up to her parents’ expectations of marrying well.
But none of that matters. I don’t want to be Queen.
I just want to be with Theo.
As I stare at the brick wall outside my window, exhaustion settles into my spirit. Theo has other responsibilities, and the flame of our love affair has died out. My hands curl around my belly, and I turn my thoughts to my baby.
Maybe, this child is the most precious gift Theo could have given me. It’s a piece of him. A piece of his love. A piece of the pure happiness that I felt while on tour with him.
My baby is a reminder that even though things come at a cost, there are beautiful things in the world.
I dry my eyes and take a deep, shaking breath.
Theo might be out of reach, but that doesn’t mean I can’t live a full life.
No matter what happens, I’ll cherish this baby like the gift that it is. I’ll love Theo from afar, knowing that a small part of him lives on in our child. A child that I get to care for and love with my whole heart. A child that I get to raise and adore. A child that will bring me more adventure than any international trip ever could.
Even through the pain of my heartbreak, I can feel the truth of the sentiment. This baby is everything to me, with or without Theo.
25
Theo
I’m surprised when Luca answers my phone call. His voice is gruff. He’s still in Singapore, and based on the reports I’m getting from the doctors, he’s doing well. They think he might even walk soon.
Maybe his spirits are up, and that’s why he finally decided he wanted to talk to me.
“Congratulations,” he says. “You’re the King now. Sorry I couldn’t be there.”
“It’s fine. I’m just glad you answered. It’s been too long since we spoke last.”
A weight lodges itself in the pit of my stomach. He doesn’t know that Cara and I had a— What did we have? An affair? A relationship? A fling?
He doesn’t know that I spent three blissful weeks with her. He doesn’t know that she’s gone.
Does he care? He hasn’t spoken to her in over a year.
“The doctors seem to think your recovery is going well.” My voice is thin. I don’t even know how to talk