The Bad Royals Box Set: The Complete Royally Unexpected Series, page 92
Instead, he strokes the side of my face with the back of his fingers as his eyes soften.
“You’re...pregnant?” His eyebrows arch hopefully, and a flash crosses his eyes.
I nod, not trusting my voice. When the Prince’s face breaks into a smile, my heart erupts. I don’t realize how much fear was housed inside me until it’s released all at once. My worries fall away, and I cling onto the Prince like the lifeline that he is. He buries his face into my neck as a sobbing laugh falls out of him.
Of course he wasn’t leaving me. Of course he wants the baby.
I was a fool to push him away.
I don’t even realize tears are falling from my eyes until the Prince brushes them away. He presses his trembling lips to mine, and in his kiss I feel the strength of his love. I hook my arms around his neck and pull him close, deepening our embrace and showing him what he means to me.
When he pulls away, Luca slides his hand over my stomach and leans his forehead against mine. He lets out a shuddering breath, and a tear rolls down his cheek.
“I’m going to be a dad,” he sighs.
“And you’re…you’re happy about that?” My voice squeaks.
Luca chuckles. “Yes, Ivy. I’m happy about it. More than happy. Ecstatic. Over the moon. Head over heels in love with you.”
I bite my lip to stop it from trembling. Luca grabs a chair and pulls it toward the bed, sliding his hand into mine. I bring it up to my lips and lay a kiss on the back of his hand, and then nuzzle my face against him. His skin smells so good.
I missed him so, so much.
“I’m here,” he repeats, over and over. “I’m here.”
We stay there for a long time without moving. Every time he says, ‘I’m here,’ it loosens some of the tension in my heart. When he presses another kiss to my lips, love fills up my heart so fully that I feel like I’m going to explode with happiness.
In that moment, I realize many things.
I learn that I’m strong enough to do it on my own. Strong enough to rebuild the bakery. Strong enough to carry this child. Strong enough to walk away from my sister if she doesn’t want me in her life, and doesn’t treat me like I deserve to be treated.
But I also learn that I don’t want to do it on my own—and I don’t have to. In Luca’s arms, with few words being spoken between us, I feel the kind of unity and peace that I didn’t even know existed before this moment. I let go of the fears that have held me back from loving Luca like he should be loved, and I open my heart to him completely.
The Prince lets out a sigh, and our souls melt together. He pulls away from me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I love you, Ivy.”
Blinking back tears, I nod. “I love you, too.”
It doesn’t feel like enough. How can the word ‘love’ encompass everything I feel for him? I want to tell him that he makes everything brighter. Now that he’s here, I’m not afraid. I felt strong before, but he makes me feel invincible.
Instead, I just squeeze his hand and stare into his eyes. A thousand unsaid words fly between us in that gaze, and my heart beats with his.
Behind him, Margot clears her throat in the doorway.
I stiffen. “Margot.”
“Hi, Ivy,” she says, her eyebrows arching uncertainly. “Can I come in?”
I gulp, nodding.
She takes a hesitant step forward. Her face is drawn, and she wrings her hands in front of her stomach. Her chest rises and falls quickly as her breaths become more staggered.
“Ivy…”
I shake my head. “It’s okay, Margot.”
“It’s not.”
“It is. You’re my sister. Always will be.”
“I was an ass.”
“So was I.”
Margot laughs, shaking her head. “Stop it. You’ve always been a saint.”
“You don’t know the thoughts that have crossed my mind,” I smile. A tear rolls down my cheek. “They’ve been far from saintly.”
Guilt crosses Margot’s face. She glances at Luca, and then takes a deep breath. “It was Hunter.” Her voice cracks when she says his name. “The bacteria in your pastries. Hunter planted it. He thought…” She chokes on the words, shaking her head. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Ivy. I would never…”
Shock freezes me for a moment, but my sister’s tears make me spread my arms toward her. She buries her head next to mine and sobs, apologizing over and over again.
I pat her head and whisper comforting words until she pulls away.
“I fired him, Ivy.” My sister stares into my eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “I would never…”
“I know.”
Luca squeezes my hand, and I reach my other hand toward my sister. She sits on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window as she holds my hand.
With a deep breath, she swings her eyes over to me. “I’ve always been jealous of you, Ivy.”
That makes me laugh. “Me? You’re the one who has it all.”
She shakes her head. “You’re just like Mama. You got her eyes, and her soul. She was the kindest, most thoughtful person in the world. And I’m just like Dad. Selfish, self-absorbed, short-sighted.” She sighs. “Except for one thing, I guess,” she adds, mostly to herself.
“Don’t say that.”
My sister gulps. “It’s true.” She looks at the Prince and then back at me. “I should never have gotten between you two. I can see how much you care about each other. I was scared of being alone.”
“It was a weird situation,” I smile. “Takes some getting used to.”
Margot nods, and tears fill her eyes.
She opens her mouth, but before she can speak, I clear my throat. I glance at Luca, and he gives me the slightest nod.
He knows that I want to tell her about the baby. With just one glance, he understands everything that’s happening inside my heart, and is there to support me. It’s micro-moments like this that make me appreciate him even more. My love for him multiplies in an instant. I take a deep breath, bracing myself to deliver the next bombshell that will rock Margot’s world.
“Margot,” I say softly, forcing myself to look her in the eyes, “I’m pregnant.”
My sister’s eyes widen. She glances from me, to the Prince, and back to me again. She swallows thickly.
I’m not sure what I expect her to say. Congratulations, maybe. Or some platitude that comes to her head. The last thing that I expect her to say are the words that eventually come out of her mouth.
Margot takes a deep breath, blowing it out and then biting her lower lip. She drags her gaze up to mine, her eyes wide and full of fear.
“Me too.”
* * *
WICKED PRINCE
ROYALLY UNEXPECTED: BOOK FIVE
1
MARGOT
Atonement.
That’s what I’m doing when I haul another tray of baked goods into a cooling rack at my sister’s bakery. I move to sweep flour off the floor and smile as my sister comes through the door.
“You don’t have to do this, Margot,” Ivy says. “I have enough employees. You should just relax.”
My sister’s black hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail. She wipes her hands on her apron, glancing through the front door of the bakery. Chewing her bottom lip, Ivy wrings her hands. “You think people will come back?”
“It’s your grand re-opening,” I smile. “Of course they’ll come back.”
“Even after people were hospitalized because of me?”
“It wasn’t because of you,” I answer, leaning the broom against the wall. I put my hands on my sister’s shoulders. “It was my dickhead agent, Hunter. You were a victim of his maliciousness.”
“I know, but you know what I mean. People will still blame me. Hunter hasn’t been charged with anything—besides his confession to you, there’s no evidence that he was even here.”
I smile. “It’ll be fine. Word has gotten out that he planted the bacteria. I’ve been looking at the response online, and it doesn’t look like people blame you at all. All kinds of shady stuff Hunter’s done is surfacing, now. If anything, the extra publicity will be good.”
“Not for the people who were hospitalized.” Ivy grimaces, and my chest squeezes.
I try to swallow past the lump that’s lodged itself in my throat. “I’m sorry, Ivy.”
Her eyes turn back to me, and she shakes her head. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”
“If I’d been more supportive…”
“You had just gotten home. You’re in recovery. You were taking care of yourself after supporting me your entire life. None of this is your fault.” Ivy wraps her arms around me, and my chest tightens some more.
Guilt is a useless emotion. It doesn’t serve any purpose. It doesn’t push me to be a better person, it only drags me down further into my own anxiety. Feeling guilty doesn’t change the past.
Logically, I know this, but the guilt persists.
It snakes in and out of my heart, creeping into my thoughts whenever I feel like I’m doing well. Guilt is a group of little gremlins, hiding in every corner of my mind. They poke their heads out once in a while to remind me that I’m a terrible person.
Even when I spend a week helping Ivy out at her bakery, Spoonful of Sugar, and endorse her publicly when she announces that she’ll re-open it, I still feel bad.
It was my agent who poisoned her food. It was my agent who put her in the hospital. It was my agent who tried to ruin her new business.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
The back door of the bakery bursts open, and Ivy’s boyfriend, Prince Luca, comes through. He gives me a broad smile, hooking his arms around both Ivy and me.
“Today’s the big day!”
Ivy’s face breaks into a grin, and she nuzzles her face into his chest. The Prince kisses the top of her head.
My heart melts. There was a time when I was jealous of Ivy. It wasn’t long ago, either—only about four months. They were the darkest days of my life, right before I learned the truth about my diagnosis. Before I hit rock bottom. I saw the relationship budding between the two of them, and I thought it should be me that Prince Luca wanted, not my sister.
I was in a haze of self-medication, depression, and anxiety. My mind was a mess, and it landed me pregnant, overdosing in hospital, and forced to retreat to an intensive therapy course in the middle of the Farcliff wilderness. I was unhealthy, selfish, and wrong.
I know that now, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
I reach for my bottle of water on the counter, and my hand shakes slightly. I look at the tremor in my hand, and fear pierces through me like an ice pick. I ball my hand into a fist to hide the shaking. Glancing at Ivy, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see she hasn’t noticed.
I reach for the bottle again, knocking it to the ground.
“Shit,” I say under my breath.
Ivy laughs, shaking her head. “Always the clumsy one. How your publicist manages to hide that from the public is beyond me.”
“She’s a magician,” I say, laughing nervously as I pick up the water bottle with trembling hands. “Being an oaf doesn’t exactly fit with the image of a ‘graceful blonde goddess.’” I grin, making air quotes around the last words.
Ivy giggles. I turn away from her, using a precious moment to take a deep breath and compose myself.
Four months ago—on the same day I somehow overdosed from laced heroin, which I don’t remember at all—I tested positive for Huntington’s disease. It’s the illness that killed our mother.
Ivy and I watched her degenerate slowly over the last twenty years of her life, her brain slowly falling apart from the mutated proteins the disease pumped into her grey matter. She died of pneumonia, which ravaged her weakened immune system, but not before her whole personality transformed into something negative, angry, and sometimes violent.
That’s the fate that is awaiting me, too—and no one knows, except me.
Ivy doesn’t know about the diagnosis, but she does know about my pregnancy. She thinks I’m just a regular old messed-up celebrity. She thinks life will continue as it has been, and we’ll all live happily ever after. She’s excited that her child will have a cousin to play with.
I’m trying to think like her. I go to therapy twice a week and I’m taking care of my body with yoga and weightlifting. I’m eating healthily and spending more time with Ivy. I don’t stare at my social media quite so much. I’m really, really trying. My therapist says I need to forgive myself for my mistakes, and I can’t cling onto the guilt that eats away at me.
My hand moves to my stomach, and I draw strength from the life that’s growing inside me.
A gremlin pokes his head out from the recesses of my mind, his giggles echoing off my skull.
Guilty, guilty, guilty. Your baby could get the disease, too. Did you think of that when you decided to get pregnant?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to talk myself down. The baby was an accident, but also a gift. I wouldn’t be as dedicated to my recovery if I didn’t have a child to take care of.
I will be a good mother, Huntington’s or not.
“You okay, Margot?” Prince Luca glances at me, and I realize I’m gripping the edge of the stainless steel counter with both hands. My knuckles are white.
I force myself to relax my shoulders, painting a smile on my face. “I’m fine. Just a little dizzy, is all. Might need a muffin to keep me going.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when you actually eat the things I bake,” Ivy laughs, grabbing a banana chocolate-chip muffin from a tray for me. “It makes me happy to see you eating my stuff.”
“You’re a rare talent,” I answer, taking a nibble of the muffin and groaning as the taste hits my tongue. “I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on all this goodness just in the name of being skinny.”
Ivy grins, then takes a deep breath. Her eyes shine as she stares at me. “Will you come open the doors with me? It’s time. I want you beside me.”
My heart thumps, and I nod. “I’d be honored.”
We open the doors to the bakery together, smiling for the cameras that are waiting to snap photos of us. I hook my arm around my sister’s shoulders, pointing to the sign above our heads.
Spoonful of Sugar is officially re-open for business.
This time, I’m happy about it.
The gremlins in my mind are blissfully quiet. The anxious thoughts that plague me all the time are absent, and I’m truly, completely happy for my sister.
Ivy opens the front door to our house, and I glance up from my seat on the couch. Melissa, my hair stylist, is working on my blonde hair extensions, moving the wefts up closer to my scalp. She’s been by my side for years, and is the closest thing I have to a friend.
“How was the rest of the grand re-opening?” I ask my sister.
Ivy smiles sweetly. “It was great. Lots of press. It meant a lot to me that you were there.”
“You’re such a star, Ivy,” Mel says, tugging a strand of my hair.
I wince.
“Sorry,” she says, patting the sore spot. She glances at my sister. “I tried one of your salted caramel brownies today. Oh. My. Lord. Ivy, you’re incredible.”
Ivy blushes, nodding. “Thank you.”
“Let me do your hair this weekend,” Mel says. “Take it as payment for all the baked goods you’ve fed me over the years.”
“This?” Ivy says, flicking her black hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know what you could do with this.”
“Don’t underestimate her,” I grin, glancing at my hair stylist. “If she can make me into a long-haired blonde, she can make you feel like a princess.”
Ivy’s smile widens. “Well, okay. I’d like that.”
My heart squeezes. Ivy is so…good. She’s spent her whole life being by my side, not asking for anything. She’s supported me through years of fame, never holding my status as a celebrity against me.
Me, though?
I resented her. When she opened her bakery, I thought she was using me and leaving me behind, just like everyone else.
It wasn’t until she was hospitalized that I realized what an ass I was being.
The gremlins cackle in my mind, amplifying my insecurities.
You’re a horrible person, and you don’t deserve a sister like Ivy.
My sister flops down on the couch, letting out a long sigh. “Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have re-opened the bakery without you.”
I put my arm around my sister’s shoulders. “Of course you could’ve. I didn’t do anything except say the truth—that you’re the best damn baker Farcliff has ever seen.”
Ivy blushes. She’s never been good at receiving compliments.
Melissa zhuzhes my hair one last time, and then pats my shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Keep that wrapped in a silk scarf while you sleep.”
I give my friend a kiss on each cheek and watch her walk out through the front door. Glancing at myself in the reflection of the window, I let out a breath.
Melissa makes me look like a movie star, but inside, I still feel broken.
From the seat beside me, Ivy stares at me with those two-toned eyes of hers. One blue, one green. Just like our mother. I hold her gaze for a moment, and then I have to look away. Looking at my sister’s face is too much like looking at Mama’s.
Thinking of Mama makes me think of her death. Her death makes me think of my own diagnosis.
I wasn’t even there when our mother died. I was on a photo shoot for Vogue Magazine.
What kind of person does that? Chooses work instead of family?
The rational part of my brain tries to stop the whirlwind of anxiety that threatens to drag me down. Logic tells me that it was my father who pushed me to work so much. He would guilt-trip me into taking more jobs, saying that the only way we could afford Mama’s treatment was due to the money I made modeling and acting.
When you’re just a young teenager, and your father says those kinds of things to you, you believe him. Being the main breadwinner for your family at age fourteen has a way of twisting your view of the world.
“You’re...pregnant?” His eyebrows arch hopefully, and a flash crosses his eyes.
I nod, not trusting my voice. When the Prince’s face breaks into a smile, my heart erupts. I don’t realize how much fear was housed inside me until it’s released all at once. My worries fall away, and I cling onto the Prince like the lifeline that he is. He buries his face into my neck as a sobbing laugh falls out of him.
Of course he wasn’t leaving me. Of course he wants the baby.
I was a fool to push him away.
I don’t even realize tears are falling from my eyes until the Prince brushes them away. He presses his trembling lips to mine, and in his kiss I feel the strength of his love. I hook my arms around his neck and pull him close, deepening our embrace and showing him what he means to me.
When he pulls away, Luca slides his hand over my stomach and leans his forehead against mine. He lets out a shuddering breath, and a tear rolls down his cheek.
“I’m going to be a dad,” he sighs.
“And you’re…you’re happy about that?” My voice squeaks.
Luca chuckles. “Yes, Ivy. I’m happy about it. More than happy. Ecstatic. Over the moon. Head over heels in love with you.”
I bite my lip to stop it from trembling. Luca grabs a chair and pulls it toward the bed, sliding his hand into mine. I bring it up to my lips and lay a kiss on the back of his hand, and then nuzzle my face against him. His skin smells so good.
I missed him so, so much.
“I’m here,” he repeats, over and over. “I’m here.”
We stay there for a long time without moving. Every time he says, ‘I’m here,’ it loosens some of the tension in my heart. When he presses another kiss to my lips, love fills up my heart so fully that I feel like I’m going to explode with happiness.
In that moment, I realize many things.
I learn that I’m strong enough to do it on my own. Strong enough to rebuild the bakery. Strong enough to carry this child. Strong enough to walk away from my sister if she doesn’t want me in her life, and doesn’t treat me like I deserve to be treated.
But I also learn that I don’t want to do it on my own—and I don’t have to. In Luca’s arms, with few words being spoken between us, I feel the kind of unity and peace that I didn’t even know existed before this moment. I let go of the fears that have held me back from loving Luca like he should be loved, and I open my heart to him completely.
The Prince lets out a sigh, and our souls melt together. He pulls away from me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I love you, Ivy.”
Blinking back tears, I nod. “I love you, too.”
It doesn’t feel like enough. How can the word ‘love’ encompass everything I feel for him? I want to tell him that he makes everything brighter. Now that he’s here, I’m not afraid. I felt strong before, but he makes me feel invincible.
Instead, I just squeeze his hand and stare into his eyes. A thousand unsaid words fly between us in that gaze, and my heart beats with his.
Behind him, Margot clears her throat in the doorway.
I stiffen. “Margot.”
“Hi, Ivy,” she says, her eyebrows arching uncertainly. “Can I come in?”
I gulp, nodding.
She takes a hesitant step forward. Her face is drawn, and she wrings her hands in front of her stomach. Her chest rises and falls quickly as her breaths become more staggered.
“Ivy…”
I shake my head. “It’s okay, Margot.”
“It’s not.”
“It is. You’re my sister. Always will be.”
“I was an ass.”
“So was I.”
Margot laughs, shaking her head. “Stop it. You’ve always been a saint.”
“You don’t know the thoughts that have crossed my mind,” I smile. A tear rolls down my cheek. “They’ve been far from saintly.”
Guilt crosses Margot’s face. She glances at Luca, and then takes a deep breath. “It was Hunter.” Her voice cracks when she says his name. “The bacteria in your pastries. Hunter planted it. He thought…” She chokes on the words, shaking her head. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Ivy. I would never…”
Shock freezes me for a moment, but my sister’s tears make me spread my arms toward her. She buries her head next to mine and sobs, apologizing over and over again.
I pat her head and whisper comforting words until she pulls away.
“I fired him, Ivy.” My sister stares into my eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “I would never…”
“I know.”
Luca squeezes my hand, and I reach my other hand toward my sister. She sits on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window as she holds my hand.
With a deep breath, she swings her eyes over to me. “I’ve always been jealous of you, Ivy.”
That makes me laugh. “Me? You’re the one who has it all.”
She shakes her head. “You’re just like Mama. You got her eyes, and her soul. She was the kindest, most thoughtful person in the world. And I’m just like Dad. Selfish, self-absorbed, short-sighted.” She sighs. “Except for one thing, I guess,” she adds, mostly to herself.
“Don’t say that.”
My sister gulps. “It’s true.” She looks at the Prince and then back at me. “I should never have gotten between you two. I can see how much you care about each other. I was scared of being alone.”
“It was a weird situation,” I smile. “Takes some getting used to.”
Margot nods, and tears fill her eyes.
She opens her mouth, but before she can speak, I clear my throat. I glance at Luca, and he gives me the slightest nod.
He knows that I want to tell her about the baby. With just one glance, he understands everything that’s happening inside my heart, and is there to support me. It’s micro-moments like this that make me appreciate him even more. My love for him multiplies in an instant. I take a deep breath, bracing myself to deliver the next bombshell that will rock Margot’s world.
“Margot,” I say softly, forcing myself to look her in the eyes, “I’m pregnant.”
My sister’s eyes widen. She glances from me, to the Prince, and back to me again. She swallows thickly.
I’m not sure what I expect her to say. Congratulations, maybe. Or some platitude that comes to her head. The last thing that I expect her to say are the words that eventually come out of her mouth.
Margot takes a deep breath, blowing it out and then biting her lower lip. She drags her gaze up to mine, her eyes wide and full of fear.
“Me too.”
* * *
WICKED PRINCE
ROYALLY UNEXPECTED: BOOK FIVE
1
MARGOT
Atonement.
That’s what I’m doing when I haul another tray of baked goods into a cooling rack at my sister’s bakery. I move to sweep flour off the floor and smile as my sister comes through the door.
“You don’t have to do this, Margot,” Ivy says. “I have enough employees. You should just relax.”
My sister’s black hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail. She wipes her hands on her apron, glancing through the front door of the bakery. Chewing her bottom lip, Ivy wrings her hands. “You think people will come back?”
“It’s your grand re-opening,” I smile. “Of course they’ll come back.”
“Even after people were hospitalized because of me?”
“It wasn’t because of you,” I answer, leaning the broom against the wall. I put my hands on my sister’s shoulders. “It was my dickhead agent, Hunter. You were a victim of his maliciousness.”
“I know, but you know what I mean. People will still blame me. Hunter hasn’t been charged with anything—besides his confession to you, there’s no evidence that he was even here.”
I smile. “It’ll be fine. Word has gotten out that he planted the bacteria. I’ve been looking at the response online, and it doesn’t look like people blame you at all. All kinds of shady stuff Hunter’s done is surfacing, now. If anything, the extra publicity will be good.”
“Not for the people who were hospitalized.” Ivy grimaces, and my chest squeezes.
I try to swallow past the lump that’s lodged itself in my throat. “I’m sorry, Ivy.”
Her eyes turn back to me, and she shakes her head. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”
“If I’d been more supportive…”
“You had just gotten home. You’re in recovery. You were taking care of yourself after supporting me your entire life. None of this is your fault.” Ivy wraps her arms around me, and my chest tightens some more.
Guilt is a useless emotion. It doesn’t serve any purpose. It doesn’t push me to be a better person, it only drags me down further into my own anxiety. Feeling guilty doesn’t change the past.
Logically, I know this, but the guilt persists.
It snakes in and out of my heart, creeping into my thoughts whenever I feel like I’m doing well. Guilt is a group of little gremlins, hiding in every corner of my mind. They poke their heads out once in a while to remind me that I’m a terrible person.
Even when I spend a week helping Ivy out at her bakery, Spoonful of Sugar, and endorse her publicly when she announces that she’ll re-open it, I still feel bad.
It was my agent who poisoned her food. It was my agent who put her in the hospital. It was my agent who tried to ruin her new business.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
The back door of the bakery bursts open, and Ivy’s boyfriend, Prince Luca, comes through. He gives me a broad smile, hooking his arms around both Ivy and me.
“Today’s the big day!”
Ivy’s face breaks into a grin, and she nuzzles her face into his chest. The Prince kisses the top of her head.
My heart melts. There was a time when I was jealous of Ivy. It wasn’t long ago, either—only about four months. They were the darkest days of my life, right before I learned the truth about my diagnosis. Before I hit rock bottom. I saw the relationship budding between the two of them, and I thought it should be me that Prince Luca wanted, not my sister.
I was in a haze of self-medication, depression, and anxiety. My mind was a mess, and it landed me pregnant, overdosing in hospital, and forced to retreat to an intensive therapy course in the middle of the Farcliff wilderness. I was unhealthy, selfish, and wrong.
I know that now, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
I reach for my bottle of water on the counter, and my hand shakes slightly. I look at the tremor in my hand, and fear pierces through me like an ice pick. I ball my hand into a fist to hide the shaking. Glancing at Ivy, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see she hasn’t noticed.
I reach for the bottle again, knocking it to the ground.
“Shit,” I say under my breath.
Ivy laughs, shaking her head. “Always the clumsy one. How your publicist manages to hide that from the public is beyond me.”
“She’s a magician,” I say, laughing nervously as I pick up the water bottle with trembling hands. “Being an oaf doesn’t exactly fit with the image of a ‘graceful blonde goddess.’” I grin, making air quotes around the last words.
Ivy giggles. I turn away from her, using a precious moment to take a deep breath and compose myself.
Four months ago—on the same day I somehow overdosed from laced heroin, which I don’t remember at all—I tested positive for Huntington’s disease. It’s the illness that killed our mother.
Ivy and I watched her degenerate slowly over the last twenty years of her life, her brain slowly falling apart from the mutated proteins the disease pumped into her grey matter. She died of pneumonia, which ravaged her weakened immune system, but not before her whole personality transformed into something negative, angry, and sometimes violent.
That’s the fate that is awaiting me, too—and no one knows, except me.
Ivy doesn’t know about the diagnosis, but she does know about my pregnancy. She thinks I’m just a regular old messed-up celebrity. She thinks life will continue as it has been, and we’ll all live happily ever after. She’s excited that her child will have a cousin to play with.
I’m trying to think like her. I go to therapy twice a week and I’m taking care of my body with yoga and weightlifting. I’m eating healthily and spending more time with Ivy. I don’t stare at my social media quite so much. I’m really, really trying. My therapist says I need to forgive myself for my mistakes, and I can’t cling onto the guilt that eats away at me.
My hand moves to my stomach, and I draw strength from the life that’s growing inside me.
A gremlin pokes his head out from the recesses of my mind, his giggles echoing off my skull.
Guilty, guilty, guilty. Your baby could get the disease, too. Did you think of that when you decided to get pregnant?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to talk myself down. The baby was an accident, but also a gift. I wouldn’t be as dedicated to my recovery if I didn’t have a child to take care of.
I will be a good mother, Huntington’s or not.
“You okay, Margot?” Prince Luca glances at me, and I realize I’m gripping the edge of the stainless steel counter with both hands. My knuckles are white.
I force myself to relax my shoulders, painting a smile on my face. “I’m fine. Just a little dizzy, is all. Might need a muffin to keep me going.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when you actually eat the things I bake,” Ivy laughs, grabbing a banana chocolate-chip muffin from a tray for me. “It makes me happy to see you eating my stuff.”
“You’re a rare talent,” I answer, taking a nibble of the muffin and groaning as the taste hits my tongue. “I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on all this goodness just in the name of being skinny.”
Ivy grins, then takes a deep breath. Her eyes shine as she stares at me. “Will you come open the doors with me? It’s time. I want you beside me.”
My heart thumps, and I nod. “I’d be honored.”
We open the doors to the bakery together, smiling for the cameras that are waiting to snap photos of us. I hook my arm around my sister’s shoulders, pointing to the sign above our heads.
Spoonful of Sugar is officially re-open for business.
This time, I’m happy about it.
The gremlins in my mind are blissfully quiet. The anxious thoughts that plague me all the time are absent, and I’m truly, completely happy for my sister.
Ivy opens the front door to our house, and I glance up from my seat on the couch. Melissa, my hair stylist, is working on my blonde hair extensions, moving the wefts up closer to my scalp. She’s been by my side for years, and is the closest thing I have to a friend.
“How was the rest of the grand re-opening?” I ask my sister.
Ivy smiles sweetly. “It was great. Lots of press. It meant a lot to me that you were there.”
“You’re such a star, Ivy,” Mel says, tugging a strand of my hair.
I wince.
“Sorry,” she says, patting the sore spot. She glances at my sister. “I tried one of your salted caramel brownies today. Oh. My. Lord. Ivy, you’re incredible.”
Ivy blushes, nodding. “Thank you.”
“Let me do your hair this weekend,” Mel says. “Take it as payment for all the baked goods you’ve fed me over the years.”
“This?” Ivy says, flicking her black hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know what you could do with this.”
“Don’t underestimate her,” I grin, glancing at my hair stylist. “If she can make me into a long-haired blonde, she can make you feel like a princess.”
Ivy’s smile widens. “Well, okay. I’d like that.”
My heart squeezes. Ivy is so…good. She’s spent her whole life being by my side, not asking for anything. She’s supported me through years of fame, never holding my status as a celebrity against me.
Me, though?
I resented her. When she opened her bakery, I thought she was using me and leaving me behind, just like everyone else.
It wasn’t until she was hospitalized that I realized what an ass I was being.
The gremlins cackle in my mind, amplifying my insecurities.
You’re a horrible person, and you don’t deserve a sister like Ivy.
My sister flops down on the couch, letting out a long sigh. “Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have re-opened the bakery without you.”
I put my arm around my sister’s shoulders. “Of course you could’ve. I didn’t do anything except say the truth—that you’re the best damn baker Farcliff has ever seen.”
Ivy blushes. She’s never been good at receiving compliments.
Melissa zhuzhes my hair one last time, and then pats my shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Keep that wrapped in a silk scarf while you sleep.”
I give my friend a kiss on each cheek and watch her walk out through the front door. Glancing at myself in the reflection of the window, I let out a breath.
Melissa makes me look like a movie star, but inside, I still feel broken.
From the seat beside me, Ivy stares at me with those two-toned eyes of hers. One blue, one green. Just like our mother. I hold her gaze for a moment, and then I have to look away. Looking at my sister’s face is too much like looking at Mama’s.
Thinking of Mama makes me think of her death. Her death makes me think of my own diagnosis.
I wasn’t even there when our mother died. I was on a photo shoot for Vogue Magazine.
What kind of person does that? Chooses work instead of family?
The rational part of my brain tries to stop the whirlwind of anxiety that threatens to drag me down. Logic tells me that it was my father who pushed me to work so much. He would guilt-trip me into taking more jobs, saying that the only way we could afford Mama’s treatment was due to the money I made modeling and acting.
When you’re just a young teenager, and your father says those kinds of things to you, you believe him. Being the main breadwinner for your family at age fourteen has a way of twisting your view of the world.
