She hated that she felt so stupid and used, like something lower than a bug. Sure, crush me underfoot. What’s it matter as long as you get your way, right?
She started to look for a bug-crushing app—so much crushing—when the hotel room door opened and Loch walked in, sweaty and oh-so delicious.
And she burst into tears again.
“Tay? What’s wrong?” He moved toward her.
What was wrong? What was wrong? “I got engaged to an asshole, that’s what’s wrong,” she blurted out between sobs.
The look of utter confusion on his face made her heart clench in hope that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.
So she went on. “Marrying someone to disqualify yourself from the throne ring a bell?”
He blanched.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She set her phone down on the chair next to her bag, and then made a big show of taking off her engagement ring. Unfortunately, her motions launched the ring across the room, but she didn’t care. “We’re done.”
The look he gave her was sad. “I’m sorry, Taylor. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Yeah?” Fresh tears were starting to pool in her eyes. Damn it. She was trying really freaking hard to be strong and it was more difficult than she’d imagined. “Here’s the thing. Maybe if you don’t want to hurt someone, you don’t use them like a dirty sock. Maybe you don’t tell them you love them to convince them to marry you. Or was that the truth?”
He sighed heavily and put his hands on his hips, then looked down. “Would you believe me even if I said yes?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t say anything.”
Oh, ouch. Those tears she’d been fighting? They poured down her cheeks nonstop. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought. You know, if you wanted to marry someone just to have a laugh on everyone back in your home country, you could have asked me. Do I seem like the type of person that would tell you to go fuck off? But you don’t even ask. You just assume I’m here for your disposal, like . . . like one of your servants!” She swiped angrily at her wet cheeks. “What, they aren’t here so now you need to recruit someone else to pick up your socks and take you to breakfast, and Good Ol’ Gullible Taylor fits the bill?”
“Taylor,” he murmured, putting his hands out to touch her arms. “Stop. Please.”
She batted his hands away. “I’m not going to stop! I’m fu-fucking pissed!” The words caught in her tear-filled throat. “I thought you loved me. I thought, hey, there’s this fantastic guy and we don’t have much in common but I really like him and why not go for it? Guess I’m the stupid one, right?”
“You’re not stupid,” he said softly, reaching to touch her face.
She slapped his hand away. “Yeah, I am. We’re done.” She managed to put a weak smile on her face. “Spoiler alert: The princess is pregnant and you don’t have to marry me anyhow. Bet you’re relieved.” She pushed past him and grabbed her suitcase.
“Taylor. Don’t go. Please. Stay and let’s talk about this, all right?” There was frustration in his face, and a little worry. Good. Let him worry. She was so done.
She shook her head and grabbed her bags. Maybe later when she wasn’t hurting so much, she could talk about it rationally. Right now, she was an open wound, a big ball of misery, and she wanted nothing more than to go home to her shitty apartment and cry. “Oh, and by the way? I quit.”
Taylor stormed out into the hall and made it to the elevator without a total breakdown. It immediately opened and she stepped inside.
“Taylor, wait—” Loch called from down the hall. “We need to talk—”
Shit. He was coming after her. She punched the DOOR CLOSE button quickly, hammering on the button in the hopes of speeding it up. They slid carefully together, and when there was only an inch of space remaining, she caught a glimpse of Loch’s face and the frown he was wearing.
Fuck him. She hoped he was as miserable as she was.
***
Well, fuck.
Loch stared at shut elevator doors. He could go after her, take the stairs . . . but then what? It was clear she didn’t want him to go after her. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and realized he was frowning. Hell, of course he was. He’d been a total arse to her. It was just . . . he’d been surprised at her accusation, and defensive. He didn’t like being the bad guy.
He waited at the elevator a few minutes longer, just in case she changed her mind and came back up to talk to him. Nothing. He returned to his room with a heavy heart. Already it felt as if the sunshine had gone out, leaving only tepid, fake lighting that seemed as miserable as he was. He saw her ring glinting on the floor across the room, and went to pick it up.
Taylor was gone. She’d been so damn hurt, the happy light gone out of her eyes.
He was to blame for that. His stomach knotted with misery. Every accusation she’d tossed at him, he was guilty of. He’d felt like such a damned arse to see the pain on her face and know that he’d put it there. Immediately, he’d wanted to fix it. He’d wanted to stop her and tell her that no, it wasn’t true. That he did care for her.
But caring for her wasn’t the same as loving her and he didn’t know if he was in love. Not yet.
And everything was true.
So he’d let her go.
Like she’d said, his cousin Alexandra was pregnant. She’d sent him a text moments ago. They were going wide with a press conference in a few hours, but she’d wanted to let him know in advance. Babies were always well-received by the public, and she told him that it should take care of any problems involving the throne.