Scarred Crown (Bellerive Royals Book 2), page 36
“Seems the referendum news is popular,” Kafil comments.
“Everyone loves a debate.” Or at least I used to. The stakes have never been so personal before.
“I don’t even understand why it’s a question.” Kafil shakes his head.
“Me either,” I mutter.
“Who would ever wish to see someone or something suffer?”
“You’re in favor of it?” I’m not sure why I assumed he wouldn’t be. Maybe because we always think other people should fall on the side we believe in.
Kafil takes a deep breath. “I fall on the side of empathy.”
“I fall on the side of hope,” I counter.
A brief smile blooms on Kafil’s face. “Empathy is where the head and the heart meet. There is nothing more that can be done to cure someone. That’s the head. The suffering someone I love is experiencing can be ended. That’s the heart.”
“A solution might be found right after someone chooses to die.”
“That’s the heart masquerading as the head.” Kafil touches his chest, and then he touches his temple. “Sometimes we lead with the heart. Sometimes we lead with the head.”
“I can’t get behind this,” I admit. “Doesn’t feel right to me.” The thought of sitting at my father’s bedside, knowing he’s dying settles a crushing weight across my lungs.
“Life is about figuring out when to cling on and when to let go. We all reach those conclusions in our own time. But denying someone else the right to make that conclusion for themselves will never be right.”
I’m quiet while we walk, absorbing his words. Is that what I’d be doing? Denying my father the option to make one final choice in his life?
“Are you and Julia arguing about this?” Kafil asks.
“What makes you say that?” I peer at him.
“The tension between the two of you in the waiting room almost choked me.”
“We’re not seeing eye-to-eye on a few things.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my pants.
“The first time I saw you look at her, I knew there was more to your story. Probably why that reporter latched on to it so quickly.”
Curiosity sparks in me. “How do I look at her?”
“Like she is the sun.” He grins. “Who wouldn’t want to bask in its glow?”
Having him mention basking in Julia’s glow brings forth a spark of jealousy. Ridiculous. Why would I be jealous of Kafil? My annoyance at myself grows. I need to get my head on straight. All these stupid, unproductive thoughts.
“To love someone that deeply is truly a gift,” Kafil adds as we get to the door of the takeout breakfast diner.
Since his powers of observation seem to be so keen, I don’t hold back my question. “And Julia? How does she look at me?”
“Ah.” Kafil grins and steps through the door my security guard opens. “Exactly the same way—as though the two of you are locked in your own little solar system.”
Orbiting around each other.
For the first time since I sat in my father’s office yesterday, a small ball of comfort forms inside of me. Is repelling Jules really the best way forward?
Julia
I’m killing time in Posey’s downtown apartment making calls for the coronation because my brain isn’t capable of focusing on anything other than Nick. The calls are ones that could be made any day at any time because they’re details that aren’t pressing or important. Mindless work for a mind that won’t cooperate.
“You seem really sad. Probably like how I felt when Brent and I broke up,” Posey says from the couch where she’s drinking a cup of tea.
She told her work at the most prestigious interior design company in Bellerive that she wouldn’t be in today, and she cleared her schedule to be with me. The obstacle she faced with Brent wasn’t insurmountable. A terrible ex-girlfriend isn’t heaps of lies and miscommunication. They’re not on the same scale.
“Considering I had to tell my wedding planner I was hitting pause on a royal wedding that’s set to take place in less than three months because my current husband isn’t sure he wants to be married to me, I suppose I have a right to be a little sad.”
“That wasn’t a criticism,” Posey says. “I just haven’t seen you care about anything enough to be sad about it for years. You rebound from disappointment and heartbreak like a champ. I expected you to have a plan and be firing on all cylinders.”
“His name is tattooed on my body.” But it’s the tattoo on my heart I’m more concerned about. It’s not going to be as easy to erase.
“He’ll come around,” Posey says. “Do you want me to call up a photo collage of all the pictures that have been snapped of the two of you the last few months? He looks at you like you’re the center of his universe. He’s not going to throw that way.”
“I was the center of his universe fourteen years ago. That’s how long it took him to get over my last betrayal. Fourteen years.”
“That’s because neither of you understood what went wrong, and you were young and stupid. But you’re both aware of the issues this time, and I have faith you can talk them out like reasonable people. Or you can, at least. You’re reasonable.” She releases a deep sigh. “Please tell me you’re not giving up after one fight.”
“I’m not giving up, but I can’t be the only one fighting for us. I did that last time when we were kids. At every turn, I was there trying to get us back to where we’d been, and I pushed him further away.”
“You love him. He loves you. The only way this doesn’t work is if both of you give up.”
I pick at the blankets on the bed and don’t respond. There’s nothing I can do that’ll make Nick see reason.
“You’re married. Have you never listened to Mom and Dad go at it when one of them is pissed about something?”
“Dad always backs down,” I say.
“Sure. Someone needs to calm the rough waters. Mom does it all day for her job, and I think she’d had enough by the time she came home.” She sets her teacup down. “You’re missing the point. You’re going to fight. Brent and I disagree sometimes, but we figure it out. You’re not always going to see eye-to-eye, especially as members of the royal family, a royal family entrenched in the political system of this country.”
“I lied to him.”
“Because you’re currently trapped between two roles—wife and employee—but that’s not going to last forever. You’re not going to become Alex’s secretary. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Yes, well, we already agreed I can’t work for Alex.” I take a deep breath. “We were making plans to expand Nick’s foundation in Tanzania.”
“Good. I hope you go to Tanzania for a while. Leave all this bullshit behind and get to know each other better again. You and Alex actually need a break, or he needs a girlfriend. He’s too laser-focused on something he’ll never have with you.”
“Do you think I’ve led him on?” It’s the question I’ve been afraid to ask anyone else but besides Posey or Brice, I’m not sure who I’d ask. There are very few people close enough to Alex to get a sense of what’s going on behind the mask.
“No.” Her refusal is emphatic. “For whatever reason, he’s been fixated on you for years. I tried to ask him once when I was drunk. He just glared at me.”
“Sounds about right.”
Posey laughs. “Forget about Alex. We need to set up Operation Get Nick Back so we can shove this royal wedding on the track. I really want to be a bridesmaid.”
“Yes, I should get married so you can be a bridesmaid,” I say dryly. If I dwell on the idea of the wedding not happening, I find it hard to breathe. The alternative is an annulment, and I don’t want that. Nick said he was in this with me. A knot forms in my stomach at how quickly we fell apart.
“I’m sure people have gotten married for worse reasons,” she says.
My phone pings with an alert from the hospital. Elena is out of surgery, and the doctor will be speaking to Kafil and Bahati within the hour.
“I’ve got to go.” I grab my blazer off the back of Posey’s kitchen chair. “Elena is out of surgery.”
“Good luck!” Posey calls. “Tell Nick I said hello.”
I roll my eyes at how blithe she’s being about the potential dissolution of my marriage. “Get right on that,” I mutter on my way out the door.
My driver drops me off at the front entrance, and I hustle my way through to the room Kafil texted me a few minutes ago.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I reach the room and Nick isn’t anywhere in sight. Maybe I can get in and get out before he appears. Despite Posey’s suggestion about Operation Get Nick Back, I’m not sure he wants to be back with me. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Seeing him makes my heart hurt.
While I make idle chit-chat with Kafil, my gaze keeps wandering to the door of the hospital room.
“Nick’s not coming today,” Kafil says when my attention slides back to him again.
“No?” I frown.
“Said something came up unexpectedly, and he’ll stop around later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Oh, well…” The sinking sensation in my stomach is unexpected. Even if my head wasn’t sure seeing him was a good idea, my heart clearly had other ideas.
Bahati appears at my side and runs a comforting hand down my arm. Her gaze is tender as she looks at me and then says a whole bunch of Swahili I can’t follow. But I catch Nick’s name a few times.
With a furrowed brow, I nudge Kafil. “I caught about five words, and three of those were Nick.”
“She thinks Nick will come around about whatever you’re fighting about,” Kafil says.
“How does she know we’re fighting?” My cheeks heat.
“Nick mentioned this morning that the two of you weren’t seeing…” He seems to flounder for a moment. “Eye-to-eye.”
I’m surprised Nick said anything to Kafil, but none of us are acting exactly as we might normally. My world, at least, has been turned on its head.
“Is that all she said?” While I don’t speak the language, it seemed like she said a lot more than he translated.
“Hmm.” Kafil rubs the back of his neck. “She thinks he’ll get over the argument because of what he named his foundation.”
“His foundation in Tanzania?” Now I’m really confused. “He calls all his foundations a version of the same thing. N.E Summerset-Bellerive Tanzania is probably this one, right? The country at the end changes, but the rest is the same.”
“You really don’t know?” Kafil chuckles.
“I guess not?” I search his face. “What’s the one in Tanzania called?”
“The J.J. Bellerive Foundation.”
“What?” I press a hand to my chest, and I gape at Kafil.
Bahati grins, and another stream of Swahili flows out faster than I can pick up.
“She said everyone asked him who J.J was, but the first time she saw you two in her home, even before she knew you were Julia Jensen, she knew you were J.J.” Kafil’s pleased grin matches Bahati’s.
Nick named the Tanzanian foundation we planned as kids after me. He named it for me before I appeared in Tanzania, before we shared a tent, and before we got married. I’m stunned, but there’s a strange warmth emerging in my chest. Even when we weren’t speaking, even with fourteen years between us, Nick loved me enough to stick my name on something he intended to do alone, without my knowledge. He loved me enough to include me even when he couldn’t figure out how to draw me back into his life. The realization is amazing and frustrating at the same time. So many wasted years.
Just then the doctor enters to give us a rundown on the successful surgery. I listen and answer any relevant questions, but my brain is already at the palace, hunting down Nick, telling him that pause doesn’t work for me.
As soon as the doctor leaves, I make my excuses to Kafil and Bahati and meet my driver out front again. We zip to the palace, and my stomach flutters with excitement and a hint of unease.
The car has barely come to a stop before I’m ducking out the door and almost skipping to the front entrance. Maybe Nick won’t want to see me, but I need him to admit we’re not a lost cause, that we can make things work, even if we still have our issues.
I’m almost through the main entrance when Alex calls out to me. The temptation to ignore him and keep going is incredibly strong.
“He’s not here,” he calls after me when I don’t slow my pace. “And I know you’re not staying there right now.”
I whirl around. “Did you leak the referendum?”
“Yes,” Alex admits, his voice tight. “I couldn’t talk sense into Father. He wasn’t going to tell them. So, I forced his hand.”
“And dropped a bomb in mine.” I huff. “A little warning would have been nice.”
“You asked me to get King George to tell them. I got King George to tell them.” Alex shrugs. “I could have told you Nick wouldn’t take it well no matter who dropped the truth in his lap. You could have told him, and he still would have raged about you not telling him earlier. If you told him in Tanzania, he would have been pissed you weren’t loyal to Dad. That’s Nick. Sensitive, hard to please, Nick.”
“Neither of you reads each other very well.” I shake my head.
“Or maybe you don’t read either of us well,” Alex suggests.
I suck my teeth and cross my arms. “Where is Nick?”
“Not sure. But not here.” Alex comes closer.
I let out a sigh and mull over my options. Wait for him. Leave and hope he seeks me out later.
“I made some inquiries into your wedding in Las Vegas.”
“What?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise. “Why?”
“Call it curiosity.” Alex crosses his arms. “Did you know there’s no State of Nevada marriage license for you and Nick?”
I can feel the color drain from my face, and I press my fingers into my forehead, lightheaded. “What?”
“Despite the tattoos,” Alex says with a nod at my hand. “You and Nick aren’t legally married.”
Holy shit.
The one thing I’ve been counting on while Nick and I sort out our relationship is that we’re married. The fancy royal wedding was a bonus, not a necessity. If we’re not really married, what will that mean for us?
Nicholas
Instead of going back to my own suite of rooms at the end of our various public commitments today, I went to Brice’s wing. The truth is my wing of the house is a stark reminder of what I had with Jules just two days ago. Every nook, cranny, and piece of furniture has a memory of her attached to it. I want to embrace it all or burn it all to the ground. There’re no half-measures in my thinking.
“Take a drink.” Brice pours two more shots.
“You can’t keep asking me the same question.” I tip back the shot.
“Actually, I can. It’s not in the rules anywhere that I can’t keep asking the question until you answer.” Brice draws a card and smirks.
I draw a card and curse. This is my third two. We’ve only drawn six cards. When we turn them around to face each other, Brice chuckles.
“You going to drink now, or do you want me to ask the question first?”
“Don’t ask the same fucking question. It’s obnoxious and counter to the whole game.”
“When are you going to take your wife back?” All hint of teasing drops off his face.
I take the shot and glare at him.
“There’s a death train that’s chugging toward us, and you don’t want to face that without her,” Brice says. “Trust me.”
“She lied to me.”
“Did she? Really? Dad asked her to keep his secret. She works for Dad. You know who you should be mad at? You know who I’m pissed at? Dad.” He takes a deep breath. “And Alex, but that’s like any day ending in Y.”
I shake my head and take another shot. I resisted getting drunk last night, but I’m not strong enough to resist tonight. This day has been the longest of my life.
“Fuck the cards.” Brice tosses the deck on the table, and they scatter everywhere. “You’re not mad she lied to you. You’re smart enough to understand the conflict she faced. So what are you really mad about?” He tries to catch my gaze. “Is it because you think she knew, and Alex knew, and therefore in your simpleton brain, they hid the truth from you together?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I mutter.
“She only found out Alex knew the other day.”
“How do you know?” I cock my head and pass him a shot. If we’re having a heart-to-heart, he’s not allowed to be sober for it either.
“Because, unlike you, I actually talk to Alex. We speak quite often.” Brice takes the shot and smacks his lips. “God, I love the taste of truth and tequila.”
“You believe him?”
“He’s got no reason to lie to me. It’s just the two of you who are constantly engaged in a giant pissing match. Been like that since we were kids. Never understood it.” He leans forward and slaps my knee. “Would you want Alex’s life?”
“Not a chance.” The answer is automatic, but I might have enjoyed the attention and praise he received so often when we were kids. Alex could never do anything wrong. Maybe I would have gotten over my insecurity earlier, but his insistence on rubbing his relationship with Julia in my face didn’t make it easy to let go of my animosity.
“I’m not sure how much Alex wants it half the time. Gonna throw this out there—but maybe cut him just a tiny bit of slack?” Brice sighs. “Anyway, enough about him. My point is, you’ve been in love with Jules since your dick was capable of getting hard. Right? So forgive her. Go back to being happy. She forgave you for being a fool as a teenager.”
He has a point—a very good point—about Julia’s ability to forgive. She hasn’t held any of my past behavior against me. A lot of it was likely very hurtful. I’m not sure I could be so gracious if the situation was reversed. She’s always been better at forgiveness than me.
