Page 52 of The Prince's Castaway Baby

Even after everything that happened, I can’t see him lying about something like that. He only lied about who he really was. I’m pretty sure of that. Everything else we talked about was true.

But what does it matter to me, anyway? He’s off traveling the world, our time together nothing more than a footnote.

Slowly, I undo my seatbelt and get out of the car, taking small, deliberate steps towards the house. I clench my fist and knock on the door, and inside I hear footsteps approach in time with my beating heart.

The door creaks open, and there she is, just the way I remember her.

She’s a little older now, of course, but she has the same box-blond dyed hair — her roots need doing again. She has the same creases around her eyes and mouth, the same sharp look with the blue eyes she gave to me.

“Hello, Billie.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Why don’t you come in?”

I smile a little and step into the hallway, the smell of my childhood rushing back to me in muddy shoes and scented candles.

“I wasn’t really expecting you to come,” says my mother, and I wince at her intuition.

Of course it’s going to be a little bit shaky right now. We’re only just getting to know each other again.

In reality, if this works, it might be more like getting to know each other for the very first time.

We make our way through to the living room, and I notice her eyes dart down to my stomach as we sit. My bump is barely noticeable, but if you’re looking for it, I’m sure it’s clear enough.

“How are you finding it?” she asks. “Pregnancy, I mean?”

I grimace. “It’s not very fun, is it?”

She laughs, and I’m suddenly reminded of my mother during the good times when we used to play together, when she would take me places and laugh with me and tell me stories. When she really felt like a mother rather than someone who was just looking after me.

“Did you buy those vitamins I recommended?”

“Yes, I did actually. Thank you. They’ve been making a big difference.”

“Good.” She smiles again, and the lump in my throat grows. “I’ve been through all this before, after all. I do know a couple of things.”

Without meaning to, I blurt, “I’ve missed you, Mom. I’m sorry.”

She looks squarely at me, her eyes shining with tears. “I know, baby. I’ve missed you too. AndI’msorry. I let you down, and I’m sorry.”

I blink in surprise. This was hardly the confession I was expecting from her. “You didn’t really,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry I letyoudown.”

She shakes her head firmly, taking my hands and holding them so tight I feel like I’m about to lose all feeling in my fingertips. “Billie, baby. You haven’t let anyone down. How could you?”

“I left, Mom. I just left you here, alone.”

“You were just a kid. You weren’t getting what you wanted, so you did what kids do. I’ve had a lot of time to myself over the last few years, and I’ve realized a thing or two. Things I should have known years ago. I should never have let my stress my loneliness get in the way ofus.”

A shaky tear slides down my face, and it’s mirrored on hers too.

Of all the things I was expecting my mother to say, this wouldn’t have even crossed my mind as one of them. I never thought I’d live in a world where she could be so self-aware.

And yet, here she is, being truthful with me. I still feel so guilty for running out on her, and sure, we have years of pain that are still stitching themselves back together, but I feel a lightness that I haven’t felt in a very long time. It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Like this is the right thing to do. Even if it’s going to be hard, this is right. This is the way it should be.

“I always wanted you to have a good life. You are having a good life, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I say, and mean it. “Do you want to see some of my photos?”

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