Pretender to the Throne(90)

                A pain shot through his chest. Yes, he did love her. He wondered now if he always had. If he’d been a shallow boy, in love with a shallow, beautiful girl. Until their world shook apart and he’d gone off licking his wounds.

                He’d come back a man changed, to find her a woman changed. And to find that everything that had been there between them from the beginning was still there. That the tragedies of life had reshaped them, so much so that they fit together now even more perfectly than before.

                And she was too afraid to see it. Too afraid to reach out and take it. To trust him. To be with him. She was choosing to be unhappy so that she wouldn’t be devastated and that killed him.

                Unless she just doesn’t love you.

                Well, that was always a possibility. But still, with him or without him, she was choosing fear over happiness and that ate at him. Because it was what he’d done for so long. Because he was an expert in empty, meaningless things. In pursuits that were vain and useless.

                In turning away from everything pure and strong, and hard and wonderful, so that he could simply find some shelter from reality.

                He was done with that now, though. He loved her. More than the throne. More than his own life.

                So he could sit here and brood soberly, or he could go after her. Make a fool of himself. Again. For her love. And if he couldn’t have her love, he would beg her to let go of all that pain and live the life she was meant to live.

                Not shut herself away from the world, but shine in it.

                Of course, he would beg her to be with him first. She could shine with him. Failing that, he would let her shine alone. But dammit, she would shine. Scars and fears couldn’t keep her hidden anymore.

                She was beautiful. She deserved everything. And he had to make sure that she knew it.

                * * *

                “Why don’t you go for a ride? Or a walk?”

                Layna turned toward Mother Maria-Francesca, feeling distinctly ashamed just looking at the other woman. She shouldn’t still be here taking up valuable space and sulking. Though, sulking seemed like too weak of a term.

                “That’s probably a good idea.”

                “Where will you go?” She detected a hint of concern in her voice. Probably afraid Layna would do something dire since she looked like a specter of death.

                But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t honestly say she wouldn’t. “Just up in the hills. To get a view of the ocean. My favorite place.”

                “Will you take Phineas?”

                “No. I need the walk. I need to move slow. I have a lot of thinking to do.”

                She folded her arms beneath her breasts and walked out of the church building and out into the stormy weather. Wind was blowing in off the waves, rain threatening to fall from swollen gray clouds.

                Layna lowered her head and started up the hill, not thinking, just feeling. Just letting her emotions wash through her.

                She felt like she was drowning even while she was standing there breathing air. But the strangest thing was, she didn’t feel like she was losing herself.

                She scrambled to the top of a grass-covered hill and looked out over the ocean, tears blinding her. She hurt as much as she ever had, her heart smashed to pieces, shards embedded in her chest, but she wasn’t fading into the mist.