It was time to give up. He’d lost.
Chapter Fifteen
Isabelle paced on Gordon’s doorstep, her heart racing more and more with each step. It was almost ten o’clock, and he still wasn’t home. Where the heck had he gone after he left the theatre? She glanced down the driveway, nodding at the royal guard parked there. They’d tried to stop her from coming here, and she’d gone all princess on their asses, mimicking her mother when she wanted something done now.
They hadn’t known what to do, so they’d driven her here.
Now all she needed was for Gordon to show up.
She nibbled on her nail and continued her pacing. Princesses don’t pace. Princesses don’t bite their nails. After a short pause, she continued doing both. She was done living by the rules. They didn’t get her anywhere. She wanted to live. Have fun. Be happy. All she needed was Gordon, and she could have and be all those things.
What seemed like hours later, lights illuminated the porch, and she spun on her heel. She immediately recognized the headlights from his Mustang. She watched him get out of the car, and he stared at the cars parked on the street. Slowly, he turned toward her. She knew the exact moment he saw her.
He stared her way, the moonlight shadowing his face. He looked…resigned. There was no other word for it. Then he walked away.
Her mouth opened in shock, but then she bolted after him, balling her gown in her fists. “Hey! Wait!”
He kept walking, his shoulders one tense line. “Go home, Princess.”
“No. I—” she cried out, tripping over a rock in her haste to chase after him in heels. “Oof.”
He caught her easily, like he always did. His grip on her was firm, but he let go right away. When he glanced away, his profile was in perfect illumination from the streetlights. He was so handsome, brave, and strong. Just the kind of man she wanted at her side—not some sniveling coward who masqueraded as a noble prince.
He was the true prince.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I needed to talk to you.” She crossed her arms, a painful twist settling in her chest. He was acting so cold. “Why are you running away from me?”
He snorted, but it sounded forced. “You’re the one running away from me, Princess. You’re going home tomorrow.”
“That’s not fair.” She gripped her dress tight. “All along, you’ve known I had to go home at the end of my trip.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know it would be with a fiancé.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Is he in the car, watching us right now?”
She licked her lips. “About that—”
“I don’t want to hear all the reasons you chose him. More so than that, I don’t care.” He held his hands out. “We fucked. We had fun. It’s over. I’m a big boy. I’ll be okay. As a matter of fact, I’ll be great.”
She recoiled back. “What?”
“You heard me.”
This wasn’t Gordon. This wasn’t the man she’d come to know and care about. This wasn’t the man she wanted to be with. “But you…we…you were going to ask me to marry you.”
“I never said a fucking word about that.” He laughed. It sounded cruel and foreign. “I said I had a question. I was going to ask you if you were okay.”
Princesses don’t cry in public.
She shook her head, blinking rapidly. “You’re lying.”
“I’m lying?” He finally looked at her, but his brown eyes looked cold as ice. “I’m not the one who lied. You told me you didn’t want to marry him.”
“I don’t want to. I told him—”
“You asked him to reconsider the marriage,” he spat. “After you begged me to leave, you went to him and asked him if he’d still marry you.”
She froze. “How did you…?”