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So I decided to take it with my chin up and squash down all the emotional shit until I could get home and find a nice little shady spot on Doc and Grandpa’s ranch to curl up in the fetal position and lose my ever-loving shit.
Until then, I was the man of goddamned steel.
“Good morning, Hen,” I said with surprise when I entered the kitchen in the still-dark early morning. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep. I kept wondering what other private pictures that photographer might have gotten through the castle windows.”
“Oh god. I hadn’t even thought of that. Do they know? Do you have media relations people who can find out from the photographer somehow?” I poured myself some coffee and sat down next to her at the table.
“They’re trying. And I’ve never gotten undressed without making sure all curtains are closed no matter how far removed a building is from public view. I heard a story once about journalists using drones, and it freaked me out. So even if there are more, they shouldn’t be too bad. It’s just the invasion of privacy, you know? Now knowing what personal moment could be made not quite so personal after all.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” I admitted. “My mom’s famous, so I’ve been on the end of the lens before. Never as bad as that though. I’m so sorry that happened to you and Jon.”
She sighed. “That’s the other thing that pisses me off. It happened to Jon too, but no one seems to give a damn about him. It’s all about how my privacy was invaded and my life is being turned upside down. Not one person has mentioned how this might be affecting Jon as well.”
I reached my hand over to squeeze hers. “You’re right. How’s he handling it?”
She shrugged. “He’s putting on a stoic face, but he barely slept a wink all night either. He only just fell asleep an hour ago. Good thing Lio left the island without him, or he would have been dead on his feet today.”
I felt my heartbeat kick up. “Lio’s gone back to Monaco.”
Her eyes widened. “I thought you knew? Didn’t he tell you? He flew out in the middle of the night.”
I’d assumed he had, but hearing confirmation was still a kick in the teeth. It was so like him, I almost wanted to laugh. That cowardly motherfucker. He never wanted to get within punting distance of his feelings if he didn’t have to.
“He didn’t tell me, but I’m not surprised.” Before Hen could go off on a rant against her brother, I stopped her. “It’s okay, Hen. Honestly, I was relieved he wasn’t there. I can’t handle the goodbye any more than he could have. I just didn’t realize he left the island altogether. I thought maybe he was hiding until after I left.”
“He’s halfway home by now,” she said with a sigh. “And straight into the dragon’s lair. I don’t envy him the bullshit he has in store.”
I thought about everything he’d told me about his father—how cold he was, how indifferent to Lio and Hen’s emotions. Even his mother, while much better than his dad, wasn’t the warmest person. According to his stories, she valued appearances because she’d been raised to do so. She’d grown up in one of Manhattan’s old money families, and after meeting King Lior at a yachting regatta in the Hamptons one summer, she’d taken to her role as if born to be a queen.
“Does Lio have someone besides you in his corner? Someone he can confide in when he gets overwhelmed?”
Hen looked at me with sad eyes. “His best friend, Iggy, is an airhead player. I think Lio only keeps him around because he’s been the only person Lio can trust with his secret besides Arthur.”
“What secret?” I asked before I could think.
She rolled her eyes at me. “He’s gay?” Then she snorted a little and winked at me. “You know, in case you didn’t notice when you two were naked in bed together.”
I felt my cheeks ignite. “Har har.”
Hen leaned over and ruffled my hair. “I’m sorry, Felix. I know this can’t be easy for you. I could tell the two of you were starting something special.”
I flicked my eyes away from her as if that would help hide the massive heartbreak etched in them. “Yeah, well.”
She pushed back her chair and pulled me into a tight hug. It was the kind of hug that came from family—the kind that said it knew you felt flayed open and gut shot and were currently held together with nothing more than spit and baling wire.
“Fuck,” I whimpered before I could stop myself. “Fuck, Hen.”
“I know, honey. It sucks. It’s okay to let it out.”
So I did. As if I could have held it back anyway. There was simply no way after that. She was too kind, too loving and understanding. Hen had been one of only a handful of people who’d seen the two of us together. And that somehow made it real—undeniable. It couldn’t be a figment of my imagination because there had been witnesses.
