Page 30 of Prince Cheating Charming

“The same thing will happen to anyone else I see or hear not treating Delilah with the respect she is due. Or anyone my wife tells me has pissed her off in the past. Now go back to work.”

They all left, darting nervous glances back at the King.

Alexander moved in front of me.

“How convenient,” I said snidely. “Now you’ll know where they are so you can easily move them back into the castle when I go.”

His eyes looked bright. “Delilah, I can’t even look at them without wanting to throw up. One night away from you was enough to convince me that I don’t ever want to lose you. And it’s been so many nights. Cheating on you was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’m doing everything I can to fix it.”

“You can’t just undo it,” I said flatly. “You can’t stop me picturing you being unfaithful.”

“I know I can’t,” he said, his voice sounding ripped and jagged. “I just want to convince you that I’ve changed.”

CHAPTER 12

Alexander

Irubbed my sore neck with one hand. Everyone in the kitchen was getting a raise, because after several day of helping out, I was sore as fuck. I knew Libby was encouraging Maurice to give me the worst, most backbreaking tasks. But I couldn’t say shit. I had been the one to cheat on Delilah and they were all right to despise me.

With my other hand I scrolled rapidly down my tablet, looking for something, anything to get my wife that would show her I’d changed.

Flowers were instantly given to the castle staff or visitors who came to tour the grounds.

Jewelry was donated to St. Constance’s shrine.

I had started attending services every day, but I wasn’t sure that was helping or not. Delilah didn’t look happy to see me, and her friends openly loathed me. But I couldn’t stop going. I couldn’t give up even that minimal contact with my wife.

At this point, I was desperate for any time with her, even if it mostly consisted of Magnus’ pointed sermons about corrupt rulers and degenerate husbands. Not like I could eat the potlucks afterwards. All food turned to ashes in my mouth. I might as well be eating fucking paste for all the enjoyment I got out of it.

And always in my mind was the throbbing, pulsing regret.

If only I could go back in time!

If only I could have been faithful to her from the very beginning!

My sheer boneheaded stupidity was incomprehensible to me.

How had I not seen this coming?

I had to come up with a better plan, and I didn’t have much time.

As usual, the thought of time running out sent panic spiraling through my body.

It short-circuited my brain, made it impossible to think. But I couldn’t help myself.

Always the same.

I would remember that there were only a few weeks left in the month, the very thought of her leaving sending a heated flush through my body and making my heart pound with panic in my chest. My hands would begin to tremble. Sometimes I could slow down the gut-clenching panic by closing my fists tightly, my nails biting into my palms so hard they drew blood. Other times my arms would shake uncontrollably, too. My stomach would roil, and often I’d have to sprint to a bathroom to throw up, sweat rolling down my face and neck as I’d heave until there was nothing left in my stomach.

Not that I was eating much anyway ever since Delilah told me she wanted to leave.

I was miserable as fuck.

Life without Delilah was absolutely and in all ways dogshit.

I had to calm down, had to think rationally, if I had any chance to get her to love me again. She loved me once, my heart shattering with agony and miserable longing at the memory, so maybe she could love me again. I had to believe it or I couldn’t face each day. If I could only stay calm and make plans!

But I couldn’t with my despairing panic thrumming through my body.

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