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It aches, seeing my carefree husband like this. I’ve seen him mourn, seen him terrified. I watched him tremble when I went into labor and neither of us thought Cecilia would survive.
But Cecilia did survive.
I haven’t watched Evander lose someone yet. Not really.
It’s not the first time he’s lost someone, I realize. I imagine my husband a few years ago, stumbling upon the body of his brother, dead at the bottom of a ravine after a night of Evander pushing drinks upon him.
He’s always considered it his own fault. Is that how he feels about his father’s death? And is it harder, losing someone you were close to, or losing someone you had longed to be close to, but never were?
“This should have been Jerad’s,” Evander says, ripping the crown off his lap and throwing it across the room, before burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t.”
The baby starts crying.
“Why did you do it? Why give me the crown?” Evander asks, anguish dripping from his eyes.
“Because,” I say carefully, “it’s yours.”
“I don’t want it.”
“We don’t always get to choose the responsibilities that are handed to us.”
He huffs. “You act as if you’re not the one who handed it to me.”
I jerk my head back, tears stinging at my eyes.
Guilt washes over his face, and he reaches across the sheets for my hand. “I’m sorry, El. I shouldn’t…You were spectacular back there. I don’t know how you do it.”
“How I do what?”
“How you always know exactly what to do.”
I lean into him, tucking my cheek into his shoulder. The aftermath of his words still stings, but the sorrow in his eyes at hurting me is genuine. “The trick is looking like you know exactly what to do.”
“Well, you had me convinced.”
I tuck my face into his warmth. “It’s all in the shoulders.”
“El?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I blew up on you.”
“I know.”
He laces his fingers on my shoulder, pulling me close. “I don’t know how to be a king.”
“I know that too. At least, I know you don’t know how to be your father. But Evander, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
He stiffens uncomfortably, and I have to move his face closer to mine to get him to look at me.
“What is it?” I ask.
“He said he was proud of me before he died. Well, technically he didn’t even say that. But he said Jerad would have been proud, and coming from him, that was basically like saying he didn’t wish I’d been the one to fall off that ravine.”
I frown, letting out a deep exhale.
“It would have been nice of him not to leave me on such a confusing note,” says Evander, shrugging.
