10
SHE HELD IT TOGETHER for just as long as it took to reach her bedroom and then she collapsed onto the floor as the door swept shut, dropping her head into her hands and weeping until she could no longer fight the source of her grief.
She loved him.
She loved him with everything she was, and he’d confirmed for her just now that love would never be a part of the equation for him. She’d done the only thing she could – walking away with her head held high – but oh, it hurt.
It hurt to know she wouldn’t see him again. Or that if she did see him again, she wouldn’t be able to speak to him, and certainly not to touch him. She felt as though a thousand little electric shocks were firing through her body and she wanted, more than anything, to run back through the palace and stop him from leaving, to throw herself to the ground and pull him close, to beg him to marry her after all, no matter what form that marriage took.
Only the knowledge of how it felt to be left out in the cold held her still. For years she’d known her father’s cold dispassion and it had cut her to the quick, his rejection an ever-present pain deep in her soul. She wouldn’t knowingly walk into another relationship like that ever again.
She’d done the only thing she could – and one day she’d get used to living with this awful, broken heart.
* * *
I think in time you’ll be relieved I didn’t fall pregnant. There’s some other princess out there who’s far better suited for you. Please just – forget about me, Elon.
He stared across the room with her words pounding through his mind, even now, a month after she’d issued them. He felt their cool, incisive dismissal and wanted to roar. He wanted to shout at everyone to leave, he wanted to stalk out of the formal event.
He did no such thing. Instead, he went through the motions, as he had done frequently in the past four weeks, speaking with dignitaries and guests, even if he kept his answers short.
There were many women in attendance who had been, at some point, on the shortlist for his bride. “See?” He wanted to say to Ella. “All these beautiful, suitable women and you are the only one in my head.”
But that wasn’t the point.
She would have married him if he could have told her that he believed in love. That one day he might even love her. But Elon didn’t lie, and he knew that love was a double-edged sword, one from which he wisely steered clear.
It wasn’t as though Ella loved him, just that she wanted to hold out for someone who could give her everything she wanted, everything she’d never had, and that wasn’t him.
“Hi, stranger.”
He turned in the direction of her voice, finding his smile came naturally for the first time in a month.
“Laurie,” he kissed her cheek; she took his hand.
“I hear congratulations are in order?”
He bristled. “Oh?”
“Your marriage?” She prompted, a brow lifted.
“Ah.” He’d made sure Ella’s departure from his palace wasn’t mentioned anywhere. No one beyond a very small circle of staff knew the nature in which she’d left. It had been easy to suggest she’d gone back to Mosar to oversee wedding preparations.
People would judge Ella if news broke that she’d left. It wasn’t fair to her, and he wanted to protect her from malicious gossip for as long as he could.
“I thought it was supposed to have happened by now?”
He responded with a tight smile. “You’re not here alone?”
She waved a hand through the air. “Afida’s over there somewhere, holding court.” Her eye roll was affectionate. “I’m sure he’ll be along soon. But what I want to know is: where’s your fiancé?”
“She’s in Mosar.”
“Oh.” Laurie’s face showed genuine disappointment, but she brightened quickly, hooking her arm through Elon’s and walking through the room. “Tell me about her then. Would I like her?”
He didn’t want to talk about Ella – he couldn’t. And yet, thinking about her lifted something inside of him for the first time in a long time. He sighed heavily. “You’d love her, Laurie.” He didn’t add that she’d also be furious with him for the way he’d handled everything.
“Then bring her to us. Come for a visit. It will be nice for me to have a friend – and someone British – to spend time with.”