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“Because I almost lost her,” I tell him. “When that man tried to attack her. I saw my whole life flash in front of my eyes, but it was a life without her in it. I realized I can’t be close to her and do my job. I can’t be with someone who’s in the line of danger.”
“But as a member of the royal household she has always been a target.”
“I know,” I tell him. “But it didn’t really register until that day on the mountain.”
“And now you’re scared.” He pauses. “But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s in love with you…for some reason,” he adds under his breath.
“I’m not deserving of her love,” I practically snipe. “I’m a mess. I’m flawed. I’m…not a person that people stick around for. Not my parents, not my first wife. People leave me. And they should. I mean, look at how I treated her. If she loves me, then…I’m only going to hurt her.”
Magnus’s eyes are sympathetic as he gives me a half smile. “I see. So it goes deeper than just the fear of losing her. Do you think you’re protecting her, or are you protecting yourself?”
I hesitate, needing to mull that over. I thought I was protecting her from myself. But maybe I’m actually protecting myself from her.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe both. But in the end, I hurt her. I pretty much stonewalled her again, and this whole time, this whole fucking time we were together, that was my worst fear. That I’d hurt her.”
“And you did,” he says simply.
I close my eyes. My chest feels like it’s getting knifed between the ribs.
“You know what a dritsekk is in English, James?” Magnus asks.
“A shitbag?” I say, looking at him.
“Yes. You are a shitbag, James.”
My shoulders sink, and I have a gulp of beer. “I know.”
“So what is the solution here, then?” Magnus says. “You can’t quit because of this. Don’t make us suffer because you can’t handle your emotions properly.”
That’s rich coming from Magnus, but I bite my tongue.
“The thing is,” he goes on, “love is always going to be a risk. I should know, I’m the king of risks.”
“More like the prince of risks,” I point out. It’s not lost on me that we’re talking about love now. Because that is what I’m feeling for Laila. It’s love. There’s no question about it.
“James,” he says gravely, and I have no choice but to shut up and listen. “I’ve done many scary, outrageous fucking things in my life, but falling in love with Ella was by far the most terrifying. No one who loves truly and freely does so without being scared, because the loss of love is a world-ender. If I lost Ella, my world would simply cease to be. But we accept the risk and take a leap of faith, because if—when—it works out, there’s nothing greater. You just have to accept the risk and take the leap and have some damn faith that things will work out the way they’re supposed to. You’re a brave man, James, I know that. If you can dive in front of a bullet, you can give your heart to Laila.”
I stare down my drink, humbled by his words.
“But there’s really no point in thinking about such things since you won’t have a relationship until you make things up with Laila,” he continues. “But the question is, what is your end game? Do you just want her to accept your apology and not be mad at you anymore? Or do you want something more from her?”
I rub my lips together hard, trying to find the truth. I don’t have to look too hard. “It’s possible.”
“Possible and likely?”
I palm my beer, turning it around on the table. “Possible and very likely,” I say, feeling my heart sink.
“Well, then, shitbag, you only have one course of action,” he says. “You must try to win her back.”
I give him the most withering look. “That will be impossible at this point.”
“But does that mean you’re not going to try? Don’t you think Laila is worth the effort?”
Magnus looks so sincere I almost laugh.
“You know you could have been a therapist in another life.”
He grins at that. “A Viking and a therapist. A most noble occupation.”
