My fists clench with frustration, the way a cornered animal coils before striking. But more than that, there’s an overwhelming drive to keep Sarah safe. To protect her—always—at any cost, especially from the problems I’ve brought on myself. I don’t want anyone to suffer because of my shitty choices—not Nicholas or Granny or Wessco—but especially not her.
Never her.
“So . . . what’s it gonna be, Your Highness?”
Two hours later, I’m on the boat, out on the water with Laura. We sit at a perfectly set table, having brunch with the cameras rolling. I tried calling Sarah—I keep trying—but the mobile reception is rubbish. Before we set off, I told Vanessa to explain, to tell Sarah that I’ll speak to her as soon as I’m back this evening. But I trust Vanessa as much as I’d trust a boa constrictor that promises to play nice with a kitten.
“What are you doing here, Henry?”
I sip my orange juice and Champagne, wishing for something stronger. Because this all feels so fucking wrong. “What do you mean? I’m having brunch with you.”
Laura’s head tilts and her lips curve with sympathy.
“But you’re in love with Sarah.”
I glance sharply at the camera. We’re miked, and this isn’t part of the script. It’s not the way the show is supposed to play out and I don’t know if it will end up blowing back on Sarah.
“I . . .”
“I’ve been in love, Henry. I know what it looks like.”
“It’s complicated.”
Laura’s face shines with kindness and understanding. “No, it’s the simplest thing in the world. The sky is blue, the earth is round . . . Henry loves Sarah. Isn’t that right?”
And it finally hits me what she’s doing. From the beginning this was Vanessa’s show—the story she wanted to tell. The rest of us were just pieces on the chessboard. But Laura is giving it back to me. Giving me the chance to tell the story—our story, Sarah’s and mine—even if just this once. They might edit it out, but at least it will be said.
“Yes. I love her.”
Laura’s eyes well with tears. “Good.”
I cover her hands with mine. “I’m sorry.” And I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.
She wipes under her eyes, then waves me off. “Don’t be silly, I’ll be okay.”
“Yes, you will be.” And for the first time since this whole thing began, I forget all about the cameras—and it’s just me and a friend, chatting. “One day, you’re going to find a man who worships the ground you walk on, who makes you so happy. He’s out there, right now somewhere, just waiting to meet you.”
She shrugs. “I had that. Maybe we only get it once.”
I squeeze her hands. “Horseshit.” I think of Sarah and all she’s been through, how strong she is, how she makes her own happiness. “Sometimes life is unfair, Laura. But you can’t give up. You need to just keep moving forward and happiness will find you again. I believe that.”
She smiles. And then a gust of wind blows hits us, knocking the flowers and glasses over on the table.
“We’ll have to move this inside,” the cameraman tells us.
The cameras get lowered and Laura and I stand up. Without warning, the boat tilts and Laura crashes into my chest. I hold onto her, bracing my back against the outer wall of the cabin to keep from falling over.
She looks up into my eyes. “Henry . . .”
Her expression is blank and her face pale. She swallows hard. “Henry, I . . .”
“Yes?”
That’s when she opens her mouth . . . and throws up all over me.
Well . . . fuck.
I’M NOT CONCERNED WHEN I wake up alone. I run my hand over the empty spot in the bed—Henry must have left early this morning to find Vanessa and decided to let me sleep in.
I’ve earned it over the last few days.
I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling, replaying those days in my head again and again. The way his hands skimmed and grasped at my skin—possessive and desperate. The words he gasped and promises he whispered.
He loves me.
Henry Pembrook loves me.
And what I feel for him, I can’t even put into words, it’s so huge. Excitement bubbles under my skin and warmth heats in my belly. Nothing will ever be the same. I was happy with myself before—with my little life. But this is different. It feels like I’m on the edge of a mountain cliff, the wind whipping my hair, the sun blinding—but there is no fear. Only exhilaration, pure and right. I’m not going to fall. I can’t.
Because Henry has shown me how to fly.