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She heard the words, knew what it meant, but she couldn’t make herself care. All she could do was stare at him.
Why, why, why do you have to do this?
She watched the prince shove his hands deep into his pockets, knew he was going to tell her it was all over.
She started to open her mouth—-
To beg, to demand, to cry—-
But the prince forestalled her. “Don’t do this, Fawn.”
His quiet, sharp command sewed her trembling lips shut.
“You know I could have done this in a more hurtful way, don’t you?” The prince’s tone became quiet, almost weary, and oh, how it magnified her hurt, making it a thousand times worse, making it impossible for her to speak—-
Yes.
Yes, she did know.
She knew this could have been so much worse, knew he could have made it the way he had once told her—-
Pay Lou Merrill a million dollars to fuck her in front of Grant, maybe another million if Fawn was there, too.
She knew he could have made that happen.
She knew.
“But I didn’t.” The prince looked at her, and all she could do was look back at him—-
Oh, prince.
Just because he didn’t make it worse didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.
But she locked the words away, knowing if she let one slip, the tears would come with it.
“Because I’m fond of you.”
Ah.
He was fond of her.
Oh, prince.
You have to know I love you, and you—-
Her hands crept up to her mouth, forcing everything back.
“I wish you and Bennett a happy life together.”
Ah.
Her vision wavered, his beautiful face began to multiply, and she found herself numbly wondering if heartbreak could be an actual illness.
A thousand things rushed to her mind—-
Do what you couldn’t do earlier.
Beg. Cry. Scream.
Stop him from leaving.
Tell him you love him.
But when she saw the prince come to his feet, it was the words that weren’t planned at all that fell from her lips.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
The prince stilled.
“D-did you really think I was that much of an idiot?” A tremulous laugh escaped her. “Did you really think I loved you so l-little I wouldn’t know?” Her voice broke. “When you came here tonight, you didn’t have to tell me anything. I saw it in your eyes—-”
She stared at the prince, willing him to deny it, begging him to tell her she had it all wrong—-
But the prince only stared back at her.
“You’ve decided it was time to leave me,” she choked out. “Didn’t you?”
The prince’s gaze didn’t leave her as he said simply, “Yes.”
Oh God.
“Because it’s become painfully obvious that you’re no longer in love with Bennett.” The prince’s tone was flat. “You were in love with me.” The impenetrable mask on his beautiful face told her what he felt behind the words.
And it was nothing.
He felt nothing.
Nothing.
He knew she loved him, and he—-
And he—-
She forced herself to laugh. “It’s not going to be that easy, p-prince. You won’t be able to push me away that easily. Been there, done that, and since it didn’t work then—-” Her voice started to rise. “Why would you think it would be different now?”
“I already told you,” he said gently.
“And I’m saying I don’t believe you!” Fawn knew she was being hysterical. But she couldn’t stop herself. “You’re pushing me away because of a fetish?” A hollow laugh slipped past her lips. “Bullshit.”
The prince’s gaze became veiled.
“You may not l-love me now, but I can make you love me. I can, and you know it—-”
“If that’s what you’d like to believe,” the prince said quietly, “that’s your choice—-”
She charged to him, slapping him so hard her fingers left an imprint on his cheek. “Stop it!” Her voice shook. “Just stop with the b-bullshit, okay?”
Staring at him, Fawn forgot about Grant being in the same room with them, forgot that the door was still open and that the whole world could hear them. She forgot about everything except the need to make him realize she had to be beside him.
Her fists clenched.
There was nowhere else for her to go.
Staring up at the prince, she said brokenly, “You made me so happy. So happy, prince, without even trying.”
But the prince didn’t say anything, only pulling her into his arms, and this time she could no longer stop the tears from falling.
She felt his lips brush against her hair, and it was almost like hearing him speak.
I’m sorry.
She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could pretend she didn’t understand, wishing she didn’t love him so much that she was able to hear even the words he wasn’t saying.
“Please,” she choked out. “Please just think about it.”
But the prince only started stroking her hair.
The tears fell faster, and she found herself clutching his shirt. “D-don’t you think that means I can make you happy, too?”
The prince’s fingers slowed, threading through the strands of her hair one final time.
