Page 99 of Scarred Crown

“Maybe when his family is done in the room.” She purses her lips.

“Maybe?” I cry. “Mom, I need to see him.”

She takes a deep breath and releases it. “It’s my understanding that he’s asked that only family… and Vicky are allowed in the room. I haven’t even seen him.”

Her words are a one-two punch to the gut. How many times had Nick told me he was closer to me than anyone else in his family? How many times had he proclaimed that no one would ever interfere in our friendship?

“He doesn’t want to see me?” I whisper. Tears spring to my eyes.

“Sweetheart, has something happened between you two?”

“He’s just so consumed with Vicky. I just—I didn’t see it coming.” I frame my face with my hands and stare at the white tiles on the floor.

“Is that all?” Her voice is gentle.

“Yeah.” I wipe away my tears and glance up. “Yeah. Once they break up, I think things will go back to normal.”

“If this is the way he’s going to behave when he has a girlfriend…” My mother runs a hand along my shoulder in comfort.

The words, he might do this to you again float between us, but she doesn’t voice them, and I won’t let them land. What’s happening between us right now is temporary.

“Will you give his Christmas present to him for me? Or ask someone to give it to him?” I draw the envelope out of my pocket. Maybe it’s better this way. While I want him to have it, to be reminded of how close we once were, I’m not sure I can take him tossing it aside as though my heart isn’t attached to it.

“You don’t want to stay? He might change his mind about visitors once his head clears.” My mother sinks into the chair beside me and tugs me into her side into a half-hug.

My throat closes, and I can’t say anything, but I shake my head. If Nick doesn’t want me here, I don’t want to be here. He’s going to be okay, and that’s the most important thing. As long as he’s okay, we can retighten the bond that’s loosened between us. Patience. I just have to be patient and hold on.

“Just make sure he gets it.” My voice is garbled by unshed tears.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she mutters into the top of my head. She kisses my temple and squeezes me tight.

I close my eyes and let her affection provide a barrier, however thin, against Nick’s careless abandonment. This isn’t going to be forever. Maybe someday we’ll laugh about this—remember that time you ditched me? And then we’ll laugh and laugh.

But right now, all I want to do is cry.

I leave the hospital in a daze, and when I get home, Posey and I watch Christmas movies and drink too much hot chocolate.

My parents arrive home late in the day, and I ask if Nick got my present.

“He did,” she says, but she doesn’t meet my gaze.

Did he open it? The words stick in my throat, unasked.

For the rest of the day while we open our family presents and eat our meal, I check my phone, hoping for a message. A thanks or a come see me or anything that makes the void between us seem less deep and wide.

Not a single word arrives. When night falls, I turn off my phone and cry myself to sleep.

Nicholas

Taking a shift in the soup kitchen in the middle of Tucker’s Town, the capital of Bellerive, is a PR move my father has employed multiple times over the years. Whenever we’ve dropped our royal butts in the shitter, he’s used local outreach to drag us out. Given the lineup out the door and around the corner, I fear he might have utilized this place one time too many.

“I feel like I’m in a receiving line at a wedding,” Brice says as another person comes through and congratulates me on ‘making an honest woman out of Secretary Jensen.’ I didn’t even know people still used that expression. If Jules were here, she’d be horrified or amused. Bit of a tossup, actually.

“Should have made my wife come.” I suppress my laughter at the notion of ‘making’ Jules do anything. Another person murmurs congratulations as they take their bowl from me, and I give them a grin. “Fabulous news, isn’t it? We’re looking forward to celebrating with the whole island soon.”

“What’s Julia been doing since you two lovebirds returned?” Brice asks while he scoops another bowl.

Me. On every conceivable surface in any spare moment we’ve got. We’re on a sex binge, and I’m not even a little bit mad about it. Might even have a growing addiction to the feel of her naked body pressed to mine. God, I should not be thinking about her naked body right now. Bad idea, Nick. Bad, bad idea.