Preston was seemingly lost in the little girl held carefully in his large hands. Was I hearing things, or was he actually humming a tune softly to her? Before I could stop it, a rogue thought crossed my mind.
He’d make a good father.
Maybe I was the one whose body had been taken over by aliens.
Where had that come from? And since when did being able to hold a baby equate to being a good father?
Parenthood was hard. It was stressful, putting a strain on even the best of marriages at times. You didn’t get to go home at the end of the day and relax. You were always responsible for another human life—to guide them, teach them, and keep them safe. It wasn’t always sweet baby cuddles.
Reluctantly, I handed the baby I held back over to Nurse Cindy as our visit drew to a close. Before we left, Preston and I made the rounds to each bed occupied in the NICU. Not all the babies were premature. Some were full-term, requiring a little assistance with various breathing issues, battling an infection, suffering from low blood sugar, or being born with a birth defect. I noted each one of their names so that I could keep them in my prayers at night.
Leaving the unit the way we came, I was more confused than ever about the direction my life was headed. Preston was in perfect step beside me, and my failure to scare him off today had sealed my fate.
Over the past couple of weeks, I began to accept that I might fall short in my quest, making mental plans on how to survive as Preston’s wife. I would throw myself into my work, and hopefully, he’d leave me to my own devices. Thoughts of being intimate as man and wife made me physically ill.
I couldn’t stop replaying his words regarding a future family in my head. They seemed sincere, but I learned long ago that he couldn’t be trusted. Words were cheap; I had no choice but to take them at face value. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t in the public eye every day, so who was to say he wasn’t doing the same thing—especially after I outed our relationship? He had to make himself look good. I could only imagine the vultures watching were craning their necks to hear his words, and they were carefully crafted to be overheard.
But then, there was that image of him holding that baby with a knowledge of skin-to-skin. I, of course, knew that, having sat with Natalie as she’d done the same for Jameson what felt like a million years ago now, but he was a bachelor.
Preston had no warning of our visit here today, or I would have believed he did research to rattle me. As it stood, I was shaken to the core that he may have been telling the truth about helping to prepare his brother for impending fatherhood. That went beyond the normal expectations of brotherhood. Women stuck together in such matters, but not men.
Taking a deep breath as we exited the hospital’s back entrance, I pushed all those thoughts aside. I had to focus on my future now—a future that promised a lifetime with Preston.
‘Til death do us part.
Chapter 18
Preston
Lucy and I spentnearly three months playing the world’s highest-stakes game of chicken, and neither of us saw fit to swerve before we crashed in a blaze of glory. We were both losers and would now burn together.
Christmas brought our engagement, but you could clear your head of any notion right now that it had been a romantic affair. There wasn’t any grand gesture where I got down on one knee and slid a ring onto her trembling hand as tears of joy leaked from her eyes.
A more accurate depiction would be that I handed her a velvet box in the privacy of our master suite sitting room while she eyed it like a snake about to strike, not bothering to even open it before she disappeared into her bedroom. I was pretty sure I heard her crying herself to sleep that night.
It was the stuff fairy tales were made of.
Seeing her now, you’d never know she was upset about our impending nuptials. Standing like puppets on a stage, we wereplaced before the royal press pack in the throne room to address our engagement before we adjourned for official photos. Lucy’s smile was so wide, it nearly split her face as she beamed at the flashing lights that threatened to blind us both.
I’d heard stories of the press being a bunch of vultures, but I hadn’t realized how bad it was until this moment. Their voices called over each other as photographers practically elbowed each other out of the way to get a closer shot.
This is my life now.
We stood smiling silently, with Lucy’s left hand tucked strategically into the crook of my right elbow to showcase the rock on her finger until the royal press secretary took charge, identifying which reporters could ask questions and in what order.
First question: “Tell us about the proposal.”
Oh, boy. Such a simple question, but at the same time, it was a doozy. Lucy’s right hand joined her left on my arm as she gushed, “Oh, it was lovely. We celebrated Christmas Eve quietly at home, and as we were cuddled up under a blanket watching the fire roar, he surprised me by proposing. It was so unexpected.”
What a crock of shit, but the lies fell so easily off Lucy’s tongue. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to lie flat-out, even to a bunch of strangers. I got that she was saving face, but this was too much.
Second question: “The ring is gorgeous. Any special story behind it?”
This was one I could answer—truthfully—so I took the lead. “It belonged to my grandmother, the late Duchess of Ashbridge. She was very special to me, and a creative mind very much like Lucette, so it seemed only fitting to present her with this particular family heirloom.”
Oh, yeah, I’d been briefed on how to address Lucy in front of this audience. It was formal to the teeth, apparently.
Lucy’s gasp at my response was so quiet, I barely heard it myself. Glancing at her with my own falsely painted-on smile, I saw hers falter slightly. The way her thumb worried the back of the ring in question, I knew she was trying to determine if my words were lies like hers or the truth.
