Amara Meadows has always placed her job first, but with her journalism career slowly failing, she seems lost.
Although when she ends up spending a month in the palace covering the coronation of White Bridge's prince, she finds more than herself.
F...
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My door is thrown open with urgency and I sit up from the bed closing the book I tried to read in the process. Tried being the keyword, seeing as my mind couldn't even focus on the words long enough for me to take anything in. As I look up at the reason for the forced entry, I realize that Xavier's expression proves to be the perfect representation of the way I feel. Lost and confused. More than anything I just feel utterly fooled.
Although these emotions all mix together and form a sour compilation of anger. Anger at him, at the situation, but most of all anger at myself for being so stupid to have missed something like this. I read all the articles about him, watched all the documentaries, hell I reviewed every interview tracing back to his birth and none of them mentioned this. None of them mentioned her. Except for a gossip sight from a year ago, but Xavier publicly squashed the rumor the day it aired. That's why I didn't ask about it, it was put to sleep right there, no one else cared. Then again no one was planning a royal affair either. Affair, it's an awful word, an awful action. So what does that make me?
"So, how's the wedding coming along?" In my mind, I'm at least pretending to smile, but my face is stiff, uncontrolled, uncaring. So to gain a little control over what I'm doing and saying, I place the book down on the bedside table, not even paying attention to the closeness of the edge that it might fall from. This is bound to be a dreadful conversation.
"I feel like I should apologize." He turns to close the door and the way he stretches the simple gesture out so long makes it clear that this isn't something he wants to do either. For the first time since we acted on our feelings, I don't care about his feelings. Don't care about the way his voice holds so much regret. Because he's not the victim here.
"You should, but not to me. You should apologize to the woman in the other room, the one you cheated on, the one you're supposed to be marrying. Not me, in fact, you shouldn't be in my room right now either. " I hate speaking to him like this. My tone is cold, bitter. Both words that I'd never in a lifetime thought I'd use against him. Yet it doesn't give away the way my heart aches as he sits down next to me. For him, I'm normal, unbothered and I hope that I can keep pretending that I am, at least until he leaves.
"There is more to this than just a simple engagement. " He shifts to face me and even though I know I should, I really do, but I can't move away from him. I also can't muster the courage to ask for the explanation that his words promise, but I can adore him for a few more seconds. Adore the way his eyes take me in, like I'm the only person he has ever seen, the only sense of beauty to compare anything to. Except it's not exactly the same, cause I'm not the only woman he's ever seen or kissed for that matter. I'm the second, the follow-up. I'm the other woman, the one who's actually the villain. Undeserving of his awe or his attention, undeserving of sympathy. The one in the wrong.
"Xavier..." With a lot of force, I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to say what I need to say to make him leave. "We move so fast. I mean, I went from being your employee to be your friend, and last night I was the girl you kissed, the girl who assisted you in cheating on your fiance." The word kind of burns on my tongue, mostly because I envied her. She gets him in the end. She gets to kiss him, to love him. Even if she finds out about this, about what he did, they'll work it out. They'll be happy again, somehow.
