Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Cristella?”
“I need to see you. Need to see your face.” She yanked the blind open, sunlight breaking in through the rest of the window, lighting me up like a spotlight turning on and aimed at my face. I squinted, the view I’d wanted blocked from sight now on full display.
Outside my window, like a stupid fucking painting, was the Royal Palace Rose Garden, currently clinging to life through the frigid colds that had spilled over Madrid during the winter months. And yet still, even with the trees bare and the roses out of bloom, the garden somehow retained its imposing beauty. Maybe it was the golden statues scattered throughout, or the two perfectly symmetrical fountainheads on either side of the garden shooting a constant stream of crystalline water feet up into the air. The emerald-green hedges were still holding strong, as were the regal snowdrift crabapple trees we had planted when I was a little boy, their white and red flowers acting like small sun reflectors. Beyond the gardens, I could see the tall crest of the palace itself, a stone spire that rose like a thorn on the side of this earth. It wrapped around the garden, making the roses and crabapple trees a centerpiece of the entire palace.
I royally fucking hated it.
“Look at me, Nicholas. Look at me and tell me you don’t want this anymore. Us.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t be in this relationship any longer.” I said it again, meaning it as much as the first time I’d said it.
“So you’re not joking. This isn’t some kind of prank.”
“I’m not joking. I can’t continue this… this…” I said the first word that came to my mouth. “Facade.”
She arched her eyebrow as though it were a bow ready to be notched with a lethal arrow.
“A facade? You call what we had a facade?”
“Sí.”
I said it matter-of-factly. Not because I felt it was that simple—nothing ever really was that simple. I only said it in the way I did so that the point would be hammered home. She had to hear it. Cristella didn’t do well when I beat around the bush. She always had a way of making me second-guess myself, and the more time I allowed her to do that, the more I risked backing down.
And that was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt like I’d already tiptoed off the cliff’s edge and was now free-falling through the air.
Exhilarating.
And there was no turning back.
“Okay.” Her head started to shake back and forth. A small movement. And then the tears started to flow.
My heart cracked. I knew this would be painful as much as I knew it had to be done, but that didn’t ease any of the guilt I felt at seeing her hurt. We had already talked about marriage, kids, a castle, crowns. The entire shebang. She must have been watching that all sink to the bottom of the sea, all her dreams slowly bubbling under the previously serene waters, now raging and tormenting.
“Oh, Crist—”
“Don’t do that.” She covered her mouth, stifling a cry. Before I could say another word, she turned to the door and bolted. I got off the bed, not bothering to put on anything over my black boxers, and ran after her.
Crossing the threshold of my bedroom was like crossing a portal into a fantasy land. An entirely different world awaited outside of the doorway. Where my bedroom was simple and elegant, the grand hallway I was now running through felt extravagant and overly pompous. The ceiling was arched and elevated, with gold filigree running throughout it, playing with the sunlight that bounced off the always polished white marble floors. There were enormous oil paintings hung up on either side of the hall, blurring past me as I ran, bare feet cold against the smooth floor. Holiday decorations had already been placed, leaving this moment all the more steeped in irony as I chased my crying ex-girlfriend past a row of silver and gold candy canes, directly underneath dangling mistletoes that appeared more like the blades of a guillotine than a Christmas decoration.
“Cristella!”
She turned into a bathroom and slammed the door shut, clicking the heavy lock into place just as I stopped myself from running past it, carried by momentum.
I tried calling her name for a couple more minutes before I heard the click of heels coming from around the corner. I looked down and realized just how close to naked I was. Behind me, an arching window looked out over a small courtyard, devoid of anyone. Still, it wouldn’t be long before those heels clicked their way around the corner.
I cursed under my breath and turned on my feet, speed walking down the hallway back toward my bedroom. There was nothing else I could do. I had broken poor Cristella’s heart while trying to mend my own. Only time would tell if either of us would ever heal.