I never was.
Swallowing hard, she turned away, instinctively hiding the pain his words caused her. She’d been prepared to be by his side if he needed her. He apparently didn’t, because he didn’t need anyone digging into her past. Because he was, what, ashamed of being associated with her?
The worst part was that he didn’t even know the half of what she’d had to do to survive. Had no clue she had to sleep in her car or eat every meal in soup kitchens, or how she begged for college scholarships, until she finally got one.
You name it, she’d done it.
And she’d do it all over again to get where she was today.
Well, maybe not exactly where she was.
But in her career, with her small apartment back in Harlem, with her cat and fish, which her neighbor was taking care of for her. All of it was hers, fair and square.
She’d fought for it.
And she’d won.
There was no shame in that.
They circled around the building in silence, and she purposely avoided looking at him again, because as much as he’d hurt her feelings by his rejection, and his refusal to be seen with her publicly, he didn’t need to know that. He had enough to worry about already. But it only drove home the fact that she was right to keep him at arm’s length and not to believe his soft promises and his warmly whispered feelings. When push came to shove, he’d leave her sitting in a car, or an airport, and he’d walk away.
Again.
When they stopped, the door opened and Leo slid out of the seat, releasing his hold on her instantly. The second he stepped outside the car and shut the door behind him, hiding her from view, flashes burst, and reporters shouted questions. He didn’t look back, just went into the hospital, his head lowered and his steps hurried.
And it felt like he took a piece of her with him.
The driver stepped on the gas, and within seconds, they were gone. Her throat ached, and her eyes burned, but no tears fell. The ride to the palace was short, and by the time they pulled up to the front door, Alicia was biting her nails, nervously awaiting news of Leo’s father, despite her inner turmoil. She hadn’t seen him since her arrival, but what she remembered of the man was good.
He’d been tall, with distinguished-looking salt and pepper hair. His blue eyes had always been lit with laughter, and he’d been proud of his son…as any father should be. Knowing what she did now, that he was a freaking king, of all things, only made her think more highly of him, because he’d never made her feel unworthy of his son.
Even though she was.
And Leo clearly knew it as well as she did.
When he finally married, or fell in love, it would be with a princess like Princess Gen-a-whatever. Not a girl like her who, more often than not, had red in her bank account instead of black. A girl who, for her whole senior year, had lived in her dead father’s car, showered in the girl’s locker room, and literally survived off cafeteria scraps and a kindhearted lunch lady’s compassion. She wasn’t a fit match for a man like him, no matter how many romantic, idealistic things he said.
And she’d best remember that.
She wasn’t Cinderella. People liked the fantasy in fairy tales. But this was real life, and it had just slapped her across the face yet again.
When will I learn?
The guard opened the car door, watching her closely. “Miss.”
“Thank you,” she said, making sure to stare directly at him. “Can you please let me know how the king is faring, once you hear?”
The man bowed. “Indeed. I’ll be anxiously awaiting updates, myself.”
“I’m sorry that he’s ill,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “He’s a good man.”
The guard shut the car door and led her forward with a soft hand on her lower back. “You spoke with him?”
“Many years ago, when he came to America.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye. “We me
t back then, Leo—I mean, the prince, and I. We spent a lot of time together in New York City.”
The guard eyed her with renewed interest. “How long ago was this, if you don’t mind my asking?”