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I poured out the details of Oliver’s deception, from sending Miss DuPont away so he could hire me, to the unnecessary trip to Romania to track down those orchids, and the cruel manipulation. Cristina listened in stunned silence, absorbing the pain in my words. After I finished, there was a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone.
“I find this so hard to believe,” Cristina said, her voice gentler now. “From everything I’ve read online, he seemed so genuine and kind. Are you sure this isn’t just some misunderstanding?”
“He admitted it, Cristina,” I said. “Then he tried to make excuses, but I didn’t want to listen to more lies.”
“Maybe you should hear what he has to say,” she said. “Sometimes there is a very logical explanation for the baffling things people do. Try to imagine why he acted that way, then see if there is even the slightest possibility that you might have done the same thing if you had been in his shoes. Maybe that would make it easier to forgive him, or lessen the pain you’re feeling.”
“I understand he wanted to get out of the wedding, and really, I don’t blame him one bit,” I said. “But lying and manipulating to make it happen make it hard to forgive. I thought he was different. I thought he was the one! Now, my life is over.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you like this,” she said. “Not even when that bride from hell announced she was suing you.”
“I’ve accepted the fact that I’m going to be depressed for the rest of my life,” I said.
“Not true,” Cristina said. “Grace, you’re strong! You’ll bounce back! We’ll get through this together, you’ll see.”
Her words were appreciated, but they provided little solace.
After a few seconds of silence, Cristina asked, “What are you going to do now?”
Becoming a nun to escape the wreckage of my love life briefly crossed my mind, but the idea of monotony and wearing the same clothes every day was a big turnoff. There was only one logical choice.
I wiped away a tear and said, “I need to get away from this place and Oliver. I’m going to catch the next flight back to the US. I’m coming home, where I really belong.”
Oliver had initially arranged in my contract for my return on his private jet, but I needed to take a commercial flight, for my honor and dignity. The last-minute flight would be very expensive, but at least I could afford it now.
“I’m going to check flights right now,” I added, opening my laptop and searching for the first available flight, no matter how many layovers there were. “It looks like the next flight back leaves at nine in the morning, with a three-hour layover in Paris. That’s it. I’m going to book it.”
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Cristina asked. “Maybe you should talk with Oliver.”
“I just can’t—it hurts too much,” I said. “I need some space to think, to re-evaluate my life, and decide what I want to do next.”
“Okay then, I won’t push it any further,” Cristina said. “Send me the details and I’ll pick you up at the airport. And I’m sorry you had to go through this, Grace. You know I love you.”
“Love you too,” I said.
After we ended the call, I immediately booked the flight, then began packing my belongings. Memories of the good times with Prince Oliver, the laughter shared with his wild Italian cousins Enzo and Renzo, the fun energy of his Aunt Honey, and even the enjoyable moments with Princess Adriana and Princess Veronica flooded my mind. Deep in thought, I packed my suitcase, each item a bittersweet reminder of a love that had crumbled.
Henri had knocked on the door and had left food outside on a tray for me. I tried eating the pasta with shrimp, but it was as bland as my appetite for love.
After a restless night with very little sleep, I snuck out of my room at six in the morning. I winced every time the suitcase wheels ran over the tiles in the floor, the clacking sound bouncing off the walls. I just needed to make it outside without waking up anybody, especially Oliver.
Fortunately, I made it outside, but ran into Henri, who was guiding Freddie along the lawn, trying to get the dog to do his business.
“Good morning, Miss Grace,” he said. “I was not aware you were leaving today.”
“I have a flight at nine, but wanted to get to the airport early,” I said. “I didn’t want to wake anybody, so I called a taxi.”
“I understand,” he said, moving closer with Freddie. “I hope your stay in Verdana was pleasant.”
Preferring not to delve into the drama and heartbreak, I replied, “It was very memorable.” That was a loaded statement, open to interpretation.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Henri said.
I crouched to pet Freddie along the length of his long Corgi body. “Be a good boy, Freddie. Don’t you ruin any more dresses in the palace.”
As if he had sensed my distress, Freddie leaned closer and licked me on the cheek. I scratched him on the top of the head, fighting back the emotion in front of Henri, even as my eyes welled up with tears.
“And take care of the queen,” I added. “She needs you.” I stood, wondering if I should have said that last part out loud, but it was the truth.
