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“I see.” Stella’s tone revealed nothing and he snuck a glance at her, serious green eyes surveying him over ruffle-covered knees.
“The family was investigated, of course. She had a younger sister who was sent to live with an aunt. Her father lost his job over the charges and they’ve been shunned for the most part.”
“Yet you’re the one who lived in the bush?”
A sigh rumbled up through his chest. “It’s complicated. I’ve spoken to you before about shame, about how it affects us here. This scandal was unprecedented by an Avalian royal in modern times. My father lost it - screaming, throwing things, cursing me to the ancient gods. I escaped here - this land belonged to my mother’s family and it passed to me upon her death. Manu has his own section north on the island. I’d never actually spent any time here before, but I was scared. Scared to face my father, my people. Scared of the shame I had brought upon myself and my country in the eyes of the international press. Reporters were swarming the island. Every time Lani delivered food she mentioned the number of them, the breaches of security at the house, the interview requests. It was the first time I’d felt that level of scrutiny, and it had nothing to do with my work or my status, merely how I like to fuck. So I ran, and I hid.”
“Just like she did.”
A tight smile twisted his lips. “Yes, fafine aulelei. Just like she did.”
“And did they find you?”
“No.” He lifted his head and caught her gaze. “They found Manu.”
Her brow crumpled and he hurried to explain. “Since Manu was nine, he’s wanted to play rugby league professionally. He trained every day, he watches game tapes to relax. It’s his passion. He finally made it at a club in Sydney five years ago. He was home during the Australian off-season when there was a car accident. A pack of reporters, looking for information on me outside his gym in Havalei’i. One journo got too close following him home, clipped the rear of his car. Manu’s car smashed into a fence. His best friend Tua died, and Manu broke his leg in three places. The damage was extraordinary. Doctors weren’t sure he’d ever be able to play again. It took him two and a half years of surgeries and rehab before he stepped on a footy field after that. The shame I felt from the tape was nothing compared to knowing that my cowardice cost our friend his life and almost cost my brother his dream.”
“Oh, Aleki.” Stella’s hand reached out, gently untangling the wound thread from where it bit into the skin of his finger, and smoothing over the back of his hand gently. “You can’t blame yourself for that. Accidents happen.”
“No.” He shook his head empathetically. “If I’d stood my ground, if I hadn’t let fear drive me from my responsibilities, they would never have been at risk. Manu would never have been injured.” He looked up, catching her gaze and holding it. “He has forgiven me, but I cannot forgive myself. That is why I can never have a real relationship. That’s why you’ve signed non-disclosure agreements, and why I had Luke draft a contract. This marriage will be my only one, little star, but I will not let emotions make a fool of me again. I will honour you, protect you, raise our child with you, but I can never love you. Love makes men weak, and I am too scared of my own weakness to knowingly enter into that position again.” He reached up and tucked a swath of silky hair behind her ear. “This will have to be enough.”
* * *
Stella kneadedthe bread mixture harder than was probably necessary, pulling and folding and working her frustration into the dough.
“Girl.” Lani was not amused. “Panipopo need to be made with love. You’re going to serve those up to His Highness and crack one of his teeth.”
“Good.” Stella used her forearm to push her hair out of her face so she could focus on the other woman, who sat cool and serene at the breakfast bar while Stella sweated over her recipe for Aleki’s favourite treat. “He deserves it. Did you know he blames himself for his brother’s accident?”
Lani carefully lowered the tablet she was tapping on to the marble benchtop before meeting Stella’s eyes.
“He talked to you about Manu and Tua?”
She huffed in response, thwacking the dough again.
“Stella, listen to me.” Lani’s seriousness cut through the yeast-scented heat of the kitchen. “He never talks about what happened to Manu and Tua. Never.”
“Well, it was a long time ago, I suppose.”
“No. Never. Not to Manu himself. Not to me. Not to the king, or Sio, or the four different therapists I organised for him to meet with when he stumbled out of the bush looking like a skinny yeti. When the accident happened I went to see him immediately. He thanked me for the information and told me to go home. The next day he was back here, shaving and working and dressing the part of the playboy prince they started calling him. But he never spoke of it.”
Unease trickled down Stella’s spine, chilling her despite the muggy heat of the kitchen.
“But why would he tell me?” Aleki had made it clear that their relationship was one of circumstance, not care. It didn’t make sense that he’d share something so private with her if he meant to keep her at arm’s length.
Lani raised one perfectly shaped brow, and brushed an imaginary speck of lint off the shoulder of her yellow puletasi dress.
“Perhaps there is a reason His Highness was so quick to rip up the contract for your marriage.”
Stella scoffed, wrestling down the familiar sting of hope that snapped in her chest at Lani’s suggestion.
“I’m afraid His Highness has been quite clear about his expectations for his marriage.” She pummelled the dough once more, then tossed it in the lightly oiled bowl to rise. “We are mutually beneficial to each other. No doubt my usefulness merely extends to acting as a subpar counsellor. After all, I’ve already signed an NDA.” Stella moved quickly to cover the bread bowl, her teeth worrying the inside of her cheek.
“Maybe.” Lani picked up the tablet again and scrolled through something, as she continued mildly. “But maybe not.”
A shrill ring cut through the air. Stella rolled her eyes at Lani’s romanticism even as she dug in her apron pocket for her cellphone, swiping to accept the call without even looking at the screen.
“Stella Warren speaking.”
“Hey there, girlie.”
Her stomach dropped as the grizzled voice sawed through the speaker.
“How did you get this number?”
“What kind of greeting is that for your dear old Dad?”
Stella puffed a humourless laugh. “Hello, Graham. How lovely to hear from you. Tell me, do you need picking up from the cells, or money to cover your gambling debts? Either way, I’m unable to help.”
“Yeah, yeah, saw you were out of the country. There’s a bit on the news sites about you. Something about marrying a prince from one of those islands.”
Stella said nothing, letting the silence stretch across the phone and oceans.
“Anyways, girlie, just wanted to check on you. See how you’re getting on.”
“I’m well, thank you.”
“Good to hear, good to hear.” A rasping cough, tinged with age and emphysema rattled down the line. “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”
“I’ve been doing well for myself for years. Since before Mum died. We missed you at the funeral.”
“Ah, you know me, girlie. Not really one for the showmanship. Mary and I had already said our goodbyes.”
“Have you already said goodbye to her life insurance payout? Is that why you’re calling?
A grim chuckle. “You were always hard on me, girlie. But look where I got you. Fancy career, nice place in the city, a rich husband.”
“You told me I wasn’t worth the time it would take to teach me how to ride a bike.”
“Ah, well, I could be a bit tough sometimes. I always wanted a boy, you know.”
Hot tears pricked behind Stella’s lashes as she fought to keep her voice steady. “Yeah, Dad. You’ve mentioned that before. Anyway, I have to go now. Great chat.” She stabbed at the red button with a shaking finger as Aleki rushed into the kitchen with Lani on his heels.
“Stella?” Strong arms wrapped around her, squeezing tight while she heaved in a gasping breath.
In and out. In and out. In and out.
“Are you okay? Lani said your dad called.”
“Mmm. Mmm hmmm.” Stella nodded, concentrating on taking, slow exhales and doing her best not to nuzzle her soon-to-be husband. There was only so much she could take in one day from men who were supposed to love her.
The thought stopped her cold, breath and all. Her complicated feelings for her father were one thing - one thing she paid an exorbitant amount of money to discuss with a professional - but the idea that Aleki was supposed to love her rolled around in her head, foreign and uncomfortable.
Moments strung together in an internal slideshow - clips of an eighteen-year-old Aleki smiling at her in their local pub, bringing her chop suey for their study sessions, an adult Aleki determined on her doorstep after discovering the pregnancy, pressing his palm against her still-flat belly before drifting off to sleep, confessing his darkest shame to her on a broken-down couch. For a woman who prided herself on her attention to detail, she hadn’t even noticed she’d gone and fallen in love with the man who was marrying her out of obligation.
The realisation struck her swift and furiously.
Holy shit, I love him. Of all the stupid, irrational things to do.
“Shhh,” Aleki shushed her, stroking up and down her back in slow, soothing movements. “It’s okay. It will all be okay.”
Humiliation thrummed through her blood, thick and hot. How pathetic, to pine for someone who saw you as merely a means to an end. Stella straightened her spine, pushing back from Aleki’s warm embrace. He dropped his arms slowly, those deep chocolate eyes still searching her face with concern.
“Yes.” She pasted on a smile and met his gaze steadily. “It will all be okay. I just had a wobbly moment, that’s all. But I’m old enough and smart enough to know when to give up.” Her laugh was brittle. “Is there anything worse in the world than a girl who just sits around waiting to be loved?”
Aleki eyed her warily. “It’s okay to feel hurt,” he offered, gently. “When someone hurts you.”
“No.” A firm shake of her head. “I should know better. Love is my business. All I need is to know that this child, our pepe -” she held her hand over her stomach “-will always feel loved. Nothing else matters.” She reached out and cupped his cheek, the warm skin of his cheek flooding her palm.
“Thank you for the reminder.”
