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It hadn’t been easy to arrange this evening on the spur of the moment, but thankfully he had a well-connected assistant. He had every intention of bribing her to follow him to Halencia. He could well imagine his perfect assistant handling the business while he was spending time with his family.
That was, if he still had a family. Why had Elena run off?
Maybe he’d tried too hard.
The thought was driven home by the lyrics of love reverberating off the walls and enveloping him. That had definitely been a miscalculation. What did they say? That hindsight was crystal clear? In that moment, he knew exactly what that meant.
Luca strode over to the stereo system and switched off the music. And then he turned to the photographer and his assistant. After thanking them for making room for them in their schedule, Luca showed them to the door. He didn’t give them any explanations—mainly because he didn’t have any.
He wished he knew exactly what had upset his bride. Was it the music? Was she that miserable being married to him? Or was it the pregnancy hormones?
Was it wrong that he hoped for the last option?
Luca rubbed the back of his neck and stared down the hallway. It seemed like a lifetime since he’d been able to talk to Elena casually. Before Paris, he’d known how to make her smile. He’d known which words to say to encourage her when one of her projects seemed insurmountable. He’d known how to make her laugh out loud until happy tears pooled in her eyes.
And yet, he realized it really wasn’t that long ago that he’d had his best friend. If only he hadn’t broken the cardinal rule of best friends—don’t
sleep together. Since that unforgettable night, he’d lost his ability to speak to Elena without upsetting her. And this evening was no exception.
With much trepidation, he stopped in front of the closed bedroom door. He still didn’t have a clue what to say to her. I’m sorry? But he wasn’t sure what he was sorry for.
He rapped his knuckles on the door. “Elena?”
No answer.
“Elena, please talk to me.”
Again, there was no answer. Worry settled in.
He knocked again. “Elena, I’m coming in.”
He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Surely she didn’t feel that she had to lock the door around him. What in the world was happening to them?
“Elena, you’re worrying me. Please tell me you’re all right.”
“I’m fine.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Will you let me in so we can talk?”
“No. I don’t want to talk.”
Now what? He wasn’t just going to walk away. There had to be a way to fix things. He lowered himself to the floor. He leaned his back against the doorjamb.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said as a matter of fact. “I’m going to stay right here until we work this out.”
No response.
He would keep talking and hopefully he would get through to her. It’d worked in the past. But that had been when they were kids, when Elena hadn’t understood why he got to do things at the royal palace that she was not permitted to do. At the time, he hadn’t understood, either. When you’re a kid, social status doesn’t mean anything, especially when the person in question is your best friend. But now that their circumstances had shifted dramatically, he didn’t know how to deal with the changing landscape.
If he was this confused, he couldn’t imagine that Elena was doing any better, considering she was pregnant. The thought of the baby—his baby, their baby—was still mind-blowing. And maybe the wedding celebration on top of it all had been a bad choice.
He leaned his head against the door. “I only meant to make you happy today. I heard you on the beach when you said you wanted to be able to tell people about your engagement. I thought that would extend to your wedding. I wanted to make it a special memory for you. I knew I couldn’t give you the magical day you’ve always dreamed of, but I tried to make it not so depressing.”
This was so much harder than he’d ever imagined. “I know ours isn’t a marriage made of love, but it’s one based on a lifetime of friendship. Maybe it will be stronger than others. Because whether you believe it or not, I’m still your friend. I know that you hate peas. That you’re afraid of horror movies. And that your favorite color is purple. And I really, really miss my friend. Is there any chance I can have her back?”
The silence dragged on, and he didn’t know what else to say.
Then the lock clicked, and the door snicked open. And there stood Elena. He got to his feet. The sadness in her eyes ripped at his heart. Was he responsible for all this?
