Page 125 of Scarred Crown

He chuckles but doesn’t admit or deny what Prince Nicholas has been doing since he landed on campus. The answer is everyone. Of that, I’m sure.

It’s not enough for Nick to be a man-whore around campus, but now he’s literally doing it in my dorm room. On impulse, I send a text to Alex to let him know Nick is fucking my roommate. He’s probably sleeping with the time change, but my phone lights up right away in response. We text back and forth, and I’m grateful for the lifeline because my roommate is not quiet by any stretch of the imagination, and if I let myself dwell on what’s going on in there, I’ll never be able to look Nick or Dru in the eyes again. As it is, I’m not sure how I’ll be civil to Dru after this.

When Prince Nicholas emerges from the room half an hour later looking disheveled and still drunk, I can’t hide my disgust.

He doesn’t say anything to me, he just signals to his guards to follow him, and one starts down the hall, while Rocky pops off the wall to bring up the rear.

Except, I can’t let this go.

I should. I should roll my eyes and pretend like Prince Nicholas’s behavior doesn’t bother me. But it kills me to see him like this. His carelessness is murdering my soul. He’s become the opposite of everything I loved about him.

Instead of staying in my place and waiting for the anger to pass, I tuck my phone in my pocket and chase after him.

“What happened to you?”

“Isn’t it obvious what just happened to me?” He chuckles but doesn’t look at me.

“No, I don’t mean in there. Eww. That’s disgusting.”

I grab his arm to force him to stop walking down the hall, but he shrugs me off and pushes through the dorm exit.

“Leave it, Julia.” His voice is tight.

“Fuck you, Nick.” I follow him out the door and this time when I grab his arm, I haul him to a stop. “What happened to the guy I used to know? I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

He looks up at the sky and takes a deep breath. Then he levels his gaze at me. “Whatever guy you’re referring to never existed, Julia. He’s been a figment of your imagination this entire time.”

It’s hyperbole, but at the core is a truth I’ve been trying hard not to recognize, even as we drifted further apart, even as his behavior became more erratic. I’ve wanted him to be someone he’s not. I clench my jaw and stare at him for a beat. “I guess I’ll just stop imagining he’ll come back then.”

“You’re already telling people you don’t know me, so just don’t fucking know me. Okay? We shouldn’t talk anymore.”

“Pretty easy since we’re not talking now. We haven’t spoken to each other about anything important in almost two years.” There’s so much bitterness in my voice I can taste it, but I don’t care.

A muscle in his jaw tics, and I think maybe he’ll actually say something, anything to change where we’re headed.

“Excellent. Fan-fucking-tastic.” He throws his hands out. “Have a good life, Julia.” He storms away, and the guards jog to keep up with him.

I stare after him, and the last tethers of our friendship snap, snap, snap, but instead of being consumed by sadness, all I feel is numb. I’m in love with a person who no longer exists, and I can’t keep clinging on to someone who’s long gone.

As he fades into the night, flanked by his guards, I finally realize he’s never coming back. “Goodbye, Nick.”

Nicholas

All day, I’ve tried to put the scene in Julia’s office out of my mind, but it’s playing on a loop. Hard to banish it from my brain when I’m engaged in mindless tasks—signing memorabilia and replying to royal correspondence.

What did I see? My crying wife being comforted by my asshole older brother. My asshole older brother who believes he can undermine and delegitimize my marriage. My blood has been simmering all day.

Under any circumstances what I saw between them would bother me, but her avoidance of whatever happened only makes the situation harder to dismiss.

With other women, I’d let the encounter slide. My relationships have been fleeting, and the word ‘love’ hasn’t entered into any of them. If those women wanted to cry on my brother’s shoulder, what did I care?

But this is Jules, and we’ve already let one massive misunderstanding ruin our lives for fourteen years. I’m not letting us build our marriage on top of sand.

She loves me, and I love her. That realization, so new and fresh, stopped me in my tracks a few times as I went about my day. The way we feel about each other isn’t changeable or moveable. Had we not exchanged those words last night, I’m not sure how I’d have taken the scene between them. Not well or nearly so calmly, that’s for sure.

Alex doesn’t figure into my marriage equation. He’s the odd man out. Whatever happened between him and Jules today can’t happen again. Maybe he used to be a confidante or someone she turned to, but I want to—need to—fill that role now.

After lunch, I put a bottle of wine in the mini-fridge to chill, and I’ve got sparkling water and ice cubes as well. Cold wine, hot bath, uncomfortable conversation.