Page 118 of Heavy Crown

“You’re carrying the heir to the throne.”

“No,” I say. “I’m not.” I swallow the bile that threatens to rise out of my stomach again. “If he can’t marry me, this child is illegitimate. The heir—” I take a deep breath. “The heir won’t be my child.” I can’t bring myself to say her name or to consider Alex muttering “Oh, Simone” in her ear the way he used to say “Oh, Rory” in mine. Tears prick at my eyes. “He’ll make me stay, Posey. But do you honestly think my child will ever be acknowledged as royal by anyone? What do I get by staying here? Certain heartbreak. He’ll marry her. Have children with her. Love her.” A sob gets lodged in my throat. “And I’ll get to watch it knowing what she has could have been mine if only I’d had the courage to say yes.”

Posey sinks onto the edge of the tub beside me, and she wraps her arm around my shoulders, tugging me against her side. “You want to leave?”

I shake my head. “I want him to say yes.” I choke on a sob. “I understand now how badly he must have wanted me to say yes.” But he doesn’t want that anymore. In three weeks, I’ve become no longer worth the sacrifice. How can this desperate feeling, one he must have felt at the time, fade so fast?

“Oh, sweetie.” Posey wraps me into a hug, and she holds me while I cry.

“I don’t want to feel this way anymore,” I say against her shoulder.

“Tell me how I can help.”

The tissue box is on the sink, and I leave Posey to grab a handful, wiping my tears and blowing my nose. No more tears. I’m done crying over something I can’t change. I asked him to leave, and he won’t. Instead of dwelling on what I can’t have, I need to look after myself and this baby.

“Alex is gone until Monday night,” I say. The thought of what he’s doing in Denmark causes my stomach to heave again, but I close my eyes and wait for the sensation to pass. “I need to be packed and gone before he gets home.”

“Where will you go?”

“Home?” I give her a hopeful look. “My options are limited on such short notice.”

“I have friends in Toronto, and I’m sure they’d let you crash in their spare room until you got yourself together.”

I shake my head. “My parents might be angry with me, but they won’t leave me out in the cold if I show up on their doorstep.” I run my hands through my hair. “And I’m going to need help with the baby.” My voice catches, and I clear my throat. I’m not naïve enough to believe I can raise a child and earn a living without some sort of assistance.

Posey takes a deep breath. “You’re sure this is what you want to do?”

For a beat, I consider my options again, but I’ve been over them so many times, and they never change. I want to rewind time to tell Alex yes, to have never gone to his father and asked for guidance. If I’d been selfish then, I wouldn’t be so alone now. I wouldn’t have a child who’ll never get to know their father.

Another sob threatens, and I shake my head. “I can’t stay.”

“I’ll get you a flight, and I’ll arrange for a car to take you to your parents’ farm from the airport.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

Posey chuckles. “I’m doing it anyway. Just try to stop me.” She winks at me before her expression turns serious, and she takes a deep breath. “If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Alex would want you taken care of. That’s the tragedy in this whole thing. At his core, I really believe he loves you. Offering to leave in the first place was huge, even if he can’t or won’t see it through now. His dad is sick, and his appearance on the balcony with Simone—”

“You don’t need to justify his refusal to me, okay?” My tone is sharp.

Up until last night, I believed he loved me too. Now I don’t know what to think. For him to get over me in three weeks when I’m still so desperately in love seems impossible. Everything is more complicated now, but it’s not any more unfeasible than it was three weeks ago, is it?

“Sorry,” Posey says. “Obviously Alex is a total shit.”

I give her a wry smile. “You don’t need to make him worse than he is either.” Emotionally, I’m a wreck, and I’m grateful Posey is here, even if neither of us understands how to make me feel better. Wine is out of the question.

“Tomorrow?” Posey suggests. “Do you think we can have you packed up and on a plane by tomorrow?”

I nod, and tears well up in my eyes again. “Yeah,” I say. “I don’t have much.”

“You and I are going to stay in touch,” Posey says. “That’s my one caveat to helping you.”

“As long as you never tell Alex about the baby, I would love that.” She’s been a gift to me the last few months. A pinch of humor when I needed it, and a shoulder to literally cry on today.

Her brown eyes are sad when she pretends to zip her lips. “Your secret is safe.”

forty-three

Alex