Page 148 of Hawthorne

“I didn’t think it would–” I sigh, cutting myself off. “I just acted on it; in my mind, this was the best for you.”

“By breaking my heart and showing your mother how unworthy of you I am was your way of protecting me? Quite ironic, don’t you think?”

Yes...Now that I look back, I know how stupid it was.

“I truly am sorry,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

She doesn’t answer, stretching the uncomfortable silence as we continue to dance. For a moment, I wish this song wouldnever finish, knowing the end is near. I won’t have any excuses to get near her after this…

“Where are those pictures now?” she asks out of the blue. “I can’t imagine your mother witnessing all of this, watching me robbing you and her of the titles you’ve worked for all your life and not be preparing some kind of revenge.”

“She won’t release the pictures because now it would makemelook bad. The world would think I got closer to you so I wouldn’t lose my spot as the king. But you’re right…She must be preparing something else, and it’s stressing me out that I can’t figure out what it can be.”

“Why?”

“My mother has been aiming for me to be king ever since my dad died and was no longer here to control her ambitions. With the ling’s lack of an heir and health issues later, she became more convinced about my ‘destiny’. She won’t give up this easily after decades of planning and plotting…”

“Where is she? She has been invited, too, but I haven’t seen her around.”

“As far as I know, home,” I answer. “Something about not giving you the satisfaction of seeing her here tonight.”

“Well, we can worry about that another day, then.”

“It’s been my biggest worry for weeks now. If something happens to you, I–”

“Stop, please,” she cuts me off.

Looking away from me, she brings back the emotional distance that had disappeared while we were talking. It squeezes at my battered heart. The realistic part of me knows I won’t have a second chance, but that little part of my broken heart, still beating for her, had hope. Hope that she understands and will forgive me.

For a second there, I forget how deep the wound is. For a moment, I thought I was back on track for leniency.

“I am sorry.Truly.”

“I know,” she answers, then she exhales. “But it’s too late.”

Too late.

The anxiety eating away at my heart makes me act before I think, my arm pulling her closer to my chest as we keep swaying to the rhythm of the classical music reverberating through the hall.

For the past weeks, misery has been my sole companion, but right now, anxiety is taking over. This nagging feeling that another shoe is about to drop won’t go away, even if I have tried to shake it off constantly.

There’s something inside telling me to keep her close, yelling that I need to keep her with me always.

“Vincent,” she calls, her voice barely audible. “This is not appropriate.”

“Let me have this moment,” I beg. “I won’t have any other opportunity.”

“Just for a moment,” she agrees with a shaky voice, leaning the side of her head against my chest, making my heart somersault inside.

It finally clears the view for me to focus on everyone around us as we softly sway.

No one has joined us in this dance; instead, everyone is inert, focused on us. Shock laces several of the faces I see around us. Eccentric, right?

The former second in line to the throne is holding the unexpected queen in his arms. And I am holding her for dear life.

For them, it’s a weird unfathomable scene. For me? The woman of my dreams, the love of my life, is holding me right before she slips right through my fingers. She is giving me one final pitiful moment before we part ways, all because I didn’t hold on well enough when I had to.

Then, my heart stops as dread takes over.

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