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“Ma’am.” With a bow, he retreats from my private suite.
As much as I don’t want to face the media, I welcome the distraction of today’s event. If for no other reason than it will distract me from my increasing confusion regarding my future with Tristan.
I once felt comfort in his presence. Loved the days we spent together doing nothing. Now all of our interactions feel stilted. Like I don’t know how to act around him anymore.
Like I don’t want to be around him anymore.
After a tension-filled drive, Archie pulls through the gates of Lamberside Palace and up to the grand entrance. Dozens of reporters and photographers line the walkway, camera flashes lighting up the gray sky as we crawl to a stop. I draw in a deep breath, pushing down the anxiety filling me.
“Are you ready, ma’am?” Archie asks from the front seat, concern swirling in his blue eyes.
I part my lips to respond, but Tristan cuts me off.
“Of course she is.” He grabs my hand and lifts it to his mouth. “My girl’s a badass.”
Despite Tristan’s assurances, Archie doesn’t budge. He waits for my response.
“I’m ready.”
He continues to scrutinize me for any sign of hesitation or doubt, his thoughtful expression silently telling me it’s okay if I’m not ready.
“Promise,” I tell him.
After a few moments, he nods. “Okay.”
Hopping out of the SUV, he jogs around to open my door, extending his arm toward me.
Inhaling as calming of a breath as I can muster, I place my hand in his. The second I step out of the car, cameras flash around me, burning my irises. I do my best to ignore it. Focus all my attention on the entrance to the palace less than twenty feet away.
But those twenty feet may as well be twenty miles for all I’m concerned.
As I put one foot in front of the other, I remind myself no harm will come to me. But it’s hard to believe it when every click from a camera echoes louder and louder, sounding increasingly like gunshots.
I know they’re not. Know I’m safe here, considering this place is crawling with security.
But my brain doesn’t seem to get that message.
Needing to feel grounded, I reach to my side where Tristan typically is. But he’s not there.
When I glance behind me, I find him laughing and smiling with some reporter, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s so engrossed in playing the part of the concerned boyfriend that he doesn’t notice I’m struggling to breathe.
No one does.
Or maybe no one cares.
It’s the story of my life. Always surrounded by people, but still incredibly alone.
Dizziness consumes me, my legs on the brink of giving out beneath me. Without warning, a strong arm encircles my waist, steadying me. I dart my head up, expecting to see Archie.
Instead, I meet Creed’s dark eyes.
“I’ve got you.”
I stare into his gaze, my throat heavy with emotion as I struggle to figure out what the hell’s going on with me. Why can’t I just put this incident behind me, like Tristan wants me to?
LikeIwant to, as well.
“Let’s get you away from this.”
