Page 33 of Last Minute

The way my body moves sluggishly as I sit up tells me I’ve only been asleep for a few hours. I blink and rub the sleep from my eyes, listening to Ellie’s half of the conversation.

“Of course I’ve seen them. I know they don’t look great but there really isn’t much of a story. Father told me that they released the news before these pictures hit the tabloids.”

“Ellie?” I murmur loud enough for her to hear me, letting her know that I’m awake. She glances over her shoulder and the side of her face is illuminated by her phone screen, which is pressed against her cheek. In the faint light, I see her chin dip to acknowledge me, but she turns back to her conversation.

“Father’s already taken care of it. The plane will be waiting at the airport by the time we can get there in the morning.” A pause. “Of course I’m not leaving now, it’s the middle of the night! Do some math.”

Noting the playful exasperation in her voice and use of the term “Father,” I can only guess that Ellie is talking to her brother, Sebastian. She lets out a snort that turns into a giggle, but even that moment of light-heartedness is brief.

“I’m coming home tomorrow. We can smooth things over when I get there. Yeah. I will. Love you, too, Bash. Bye.”

Ellie clicks off her phone, dropping us into complete darkness. A moment later, she flips on the bedside light and turns toward me, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says. “Bash never remembers the time difference.” She rolls her eyes, a small smile coming to her face, and I’m relieved she’s back to her usual self. Or, as much of it as she can be.

“What is it? Seven hours?” The first words I’ve spoken to her in hours.

“Eight. It’s nine in the morning back home, and they’ve been on damage control for a few hours already.”

“Look, Ellie, I’m sorry—” She waves a hand, cutting off my apology.

“Don’t be. I don’t regret it.” Ellie looks me directly in the eye, and I feel the truth behind her words like if she placed her palm on my sternum. She surprises me by climbing off her bed and crossing to mine, settling next to me, but keeping a foot of space between our knees.

“Do you know why I came on this vacation?”

I shake my head. Nothing had come up in my internet sleuthing the day we met, which feels like an age ago. Ellie glances down at the phone in her hands, typing something into the search bar before looking back at me.

“My engagement was canceled.” Ellie looks at me so steadily, without so much as a glance away, and I admire her candor. “It was part of a legal initiative between Brysard and Chastain, our neighbor. A joint trade agreement and arranged marriage between me and their Crown Prince. The day everything was called off, Mother encouraged me to do something to get away from the situation. Get some distance and take a vacation. Make some new plans.”

The corner of her mouth lifts in the smallest of smiles. She passes me her phone, which is open to an article with a picture of our kiss at the wedding front and center on the website. Foreign Princess Caught with American Fling Days After Canceled Arranged Marriage. I do a quick scan of the article, picking out the pieces of information Ellie just divulged to me. I breathe a small sigh of relief when I discover I’ve only been named the “unidentified American.”

But as I finish processing her words, a thread of sympathy winds its way through me. When Dad died, I was directionless. I couldn’t bring myself to finish the degree I started, I didn’t have a fall-back plan, and I had no idea where I was headed. It took me six months before I settled on applying to the police academy.

I look up from the phone screen and into Ellie’s sad eyes. Her usual ever-present smile is missing, and it’s like she’s a different person. This downhearted woman in front of me is not the Ellie I know, and something claws at me inside, telling me to do anything—everything—to bring her smile back.

“I’m sorry I ruined your vacation,” I say as I pass her back the phone. “I shouldn’t have—”

This time, it’s her hand on mine that stops my sentence. “It’s okay, Erik. I already told you I don’t regret it. If you’re worried about the articles, rest assured my parents have our best people on it. I won’t let this affect your life or your work.” As fast as it’s there, Ellie pulls her hand away.

“My parents are sending a private jet. It will be in Boston by morning. They’re going to send me all the details, but I think it’s best that I go home.” A shadow of sadness washes over her face. “And you can go back to your regular life.”

Ellie makes a good effort of smiling at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I can still see the turmoil behind their emerald hue.

Before I can say anything else, she’s off my bed and climbing back into hers. “We best get back to sleep. We have an early day tomorrow.” Ellie waits for me to lay back down before she turns off the light, casting us back into darkness and leaving me alone with my thoughts.

CHAPTER 23

Ellie

I can’t bring myself to look Erik in the eye as we get ready and pack up our belongings in the morning. I got us into a royal mess. Literally. Bash sent me about a dozen articles featuring my kiss with Erik, each one speculating about who he is and what he means to me and what it means for Brysard.

In short, it means nothing. Because Erik and I…we can’t. He has his life here in America. I have mine in Brysard. I need to get back there, put this vacation behind me, and start putting my plans back together. But no matter how logically I think about it, knowing that I’m leaving Erik makes me sad.

I wish things could be different because that kiss did something that spending five years engaged to Prince Alden didn’t.

It made me feel.

Butterflies. Fireworks. The Brysard Marine Drum Corps on parade.

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