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Settling In
Tyler
Seattle, Washington
Istared at my door long after Chloe walked away, still trying to process whatever the hell that was.
The words ‘blindsided’ or ‘railroaded’ weren’t quite strong enough.
“Did that woman just say she’s pregnant with your baby?” Dillon stepped out of the side room.
“That woman said a lot of things, Dillon.”
“The words ‘pregnant’ and ‘yours’ are what stood out the most to me.”
“It was the denial for me.”
“Tyler…” He stepped in front of me, his eyes wide with panic. “You leaving your royal life in London for the States is one thing. I can easily handle all the drama that’s about to come with that. You having a pregnant girlfriend? There’s no precedent for that level of crisis, and I won’t dare helm the first.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s ‘Miss March,’ as she said.”
“Do you hear what I’m saying to you?”
“She didn’t give me any type of warning or set up the conversation at all. She blurted that shit out like she was discussing the weather.”
“I’ll get you a paternity test from your private doctor.”
“Please do.”
New Math
Chloe
Seattle, Washington
6 weeks, 2 days pregnant
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The broken pipe above my desk served my Tupperware bowl a third round of water.
On any other night, I would pull the instant paste from under my bed and try to fix it myself, but I was too busy tumbling down a rabbit hole of all things royal. Attempting to catch up on decades of scandal to distract me from my situation.
“Princess Joanna would be utterly ashamed at how her son has handled his departure from the family,” the British reporter announced via my laptop. “It was anything but royal, and if he thinks he can run away and escape scrutiny for this most heinous transgression, he is seriously mistaken.”
The camera shot dissolved into a video of Tyler and a gorgeous brunette. Holding her hand, he kissed her cheek, and she smiled.
“It was clear from this year’s memorial for Princess Joanna, that Prince Carrington was in a loving and steady relationship with the princess of Denmark, and she was all but ready to spend her life with him,” the reporter continued. “According to her camp, she was completely unaware of his decision, and had no idea about his publishing company. She had no idea who he really was, and clearly, neither do we.”
I stopped the video and rewound it a few frames. Then I opened my “William-Tyler-Liar” document and looked at the date of his mother’s memorial.
The day before he had sex with me.
Ugh … What a jerk.
I forced myself to hit play on the rest of the video, watching as the reporter narrated endless footage of Tyler and the princess walking through gardens, stealing cheek kisses in cafes, and whispering things they didn’t want anyone else to hear.
The scenes made me sick, so much so that I took two Tylenol and placed an ice pack on my stomach. So much so that I had to lay down and clear my mind for a while.
