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“This won’t last forever.” He moves his hands to my cheeks, his touch reassuring. “But these things you’re going through are normal. You experienced something that made you question your security and safety. I can’t make any of the anxiety or trauma go away, but I can promise that whenever you’re with me, I’ll do everything to make sure you feel safe. Okay?”
“Okay.” I push out a long breath.
It’s refreshing to be around someone who understands what I’m going through. Who doesn’t tell me to just get over it, as it seems most people in the royal household want me to do, especially when I’ve refused to sit down for interviews with the media to discuss the attempt on my life. It’s bad enough I relive those few seconds every night in my sleep. I’m not sure I can talk about it with the press so they can exploit it for their own gain.
“Good.” He smiles softly, his eyes crinkling in the corners before he releases me.
Snow continues to fall around us, becoming increasingly steady, leaving more than a dusting on the path. Despite it, we don’t walk any faster, enjoying this stolen moment together.
“Do you plan to go to California after this?” Creed asks after several minutes. “See Tristan?”
My steps falter, but I recover quickly. It’s a reasonable question. If we were still together, that’s exactly what I would have done.
“We broke up.”
Creed darts his wide eyes to mine, mouth agape. “When?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.”
I blow out a small laugh. “You’re actually the first person I’ve told. No one knows yet. I’ll eventually reach out to him so we can discuss how we’re going to handle the PR part of this, but I figure it’s the last thing he needs to think about right now, since he’s trying to wrap filming on his current project.”
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I told him I planned to stay in Belmont. Resume my duties permanently.”
I glance his way, gauging his reaction to this news. Something else I haven’t shared with anyone, apart from mentioning it to Anderson.
This time, Creed’s the one who falters in his steps.
“You’re staying?”
“The day at the soup kitchen changed me. Not what happened after, but when I was helping.” I shrug, giving him a small smile as we continue walking. “It reminded me of what’s important. I’m in a unique position to be able to make a difference in people’s lives. I want my legacy to be more than being some movie star’s girlfriend.”
“And Tristan didn’t like the idea of you staying? Seems a bit selfish.”
“Perhaps,” I respond dismissively, not telling him I’d been having reservations about Tristan even before I made this decision. “I don’t fault him for wanting to leave, considering I essentially changed the rules in the fourth quarter, so to speak.”
“How so?”
“You know his father is a former President of the United States, right?”
“I know everything I possibly can about Tristan Emerson Hughes,” he admits, his tone even. “Probably more thanhedoes.”
“You do?”
Archie was required to look into Tristan’s background when we started dating, but that’s because he’s my chief protection officer. Creed isn’t.
“I needed to make sure Anderson was safe when visiting you.”
“Is that the only reason?” I tease, playfully nudging him.
“I also wanted to make sure he’s good enough for you. Although, if you ask me, there’s no man on this planet good enough for you.”
The way he looks at me makes my heart skip a beat, my body buzzing with electricity from the intensity of his admission.
He shouldn’t say things like these to me, but my god, I love hearing them. Love knowing I still have as much of a hold on Creed Lawson as he has on me, regardless of the fact we can never be more to each other than what we are now.
