Page 59 of Princess and Country

Seven months later

The vibration of my phone woke me up from a deep slumber. With the back of my hand, I wiped the drool that had pooled and dried at the corner of my lips. It took me a minute to remember I wasn’t in my hotel suite. I tried to make out everything that happened last night.

Another piece of my heart had broken after Jeff and I argued over the phone, and I hung up on him. Even from thousands of miles apart, things were still strained between us. Most of the time. The powerlessness I felt, not knowing what to do to fix my relationship, and the sadness on knowing the one man I’d ever loved was slipping through my fingers, had turned my heart into a dark pit. We argued about everything and anything. Last night it was about not coming home on my five days break.

Our second world tour had been tiring, and I needed a few days to myself.

To recharge my batteries.

To reassess everything going on in my life.

We had a little more than a month left before the end of our tour, and the thought of going back home—for a year—got me angsty.

Since that day we promised each other that nothing would come between us, Jeff and I had changed. So damn much. The once selfless and sweet man I used to know had turned into a bitter and angry version of himself. And the worst was that he still refused to talk about any of it. PTSD was a bitch, and I had no idea how to deal with it. And love wasn’t enough to patch every hole in someone’s heart or sew the broken pieces back together. I’d learned that the hard way.

My man got lost. Somewhere in the Middle East. And never came back.

The breath of the man lying next to me eased my troubled thoughts for a moment—the ones stabbing my heart to a slow death. I eyed the butt-naked silhouette, covered in only a white sheet, in the semi-darkened room. Sleeping on his front, with his head turned to the side, and his strong and defined arms tucked under the pillow.

His dark, wavy hair fell over his eyes; his sleepy face was the definition of peace. A tightness grew in my chest. What did I do? I shouldn’t have come here last night. This was bad. How could I have let all my guards down? When did I become so selfish?

Deep down, I knew why. I needed to feel loved. And wanted. And there was only one place I knew I would find it.

In the morning light, guilt clawed at the walls of my heart. I rubbed a hand over my face and tried to swallow the boulder down my throat.

Tears prickled the back of my eyes. What did I do?

My phone vibrated again, reminding me I hadn’t checked it yet.

One missed call. And one text message.

Jeff: Princess, please call me. I’m sorry. Forgive me. I love you.

My lungs collapsed. Ice replaced the warm blood in my veins.

I gasped.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

I rested my face in my hands.

Without a sound and choking on my sobs, I gathered my clothes that were spread all over the room. The scent of cedarwood and pine filled my nostrils. The scent that had always calmed me down. That had been mine.

For a night.

I eyed the full lips of the sleeping man. With my forefinger, I traced my own, remembering how they felt on mine. How they tasted.

With shaky hands, I fumbled to clasp my bra. On wobbly legs, I put my panties and jeans on. Next, I pulled my sweater over my head. My eyes lingered on the man’s lips. Again. I looked at him one last time before leaving him behind, still naked and asleep. I burned the picture of him into my brain. Flashes of last night passed before my eyes. My heart lurched in my throat.

Like a coward, I ran away, stealing a large chunk of his heart.

Would he ever forgive me?

And would I ever forgive myself?

I dried my tears with the back of my hands. I inhaled, the air hot as scorching fire as it reached my lungs. My hands strangled the doorknob as I opened the door. My own heart was broken into so many pieces, I feared a few would drop to the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind, as I retreated to my suite.

I tiptoed in the dimly lit hallway; the rest of the world had not woken up yet. Once in the safety of my room, the door locked behind me, I picked up my phone.