Page 68 of Princessa
Chapter 36
She was like an atomic bomb, her poisonous gas suffocating, the kind of woman who probably watched Mean Girls like it was an instructional video.
And by the time the devil in the pinstriped suit walked out of my suite, I felt like she’d taken my whole heart with her.
Reluctantly, I gave in to her demand.
Vanished, without a trace.
In the game of love, even dreamy fairy-tale-bound romances succumb to bitter defeat.
I’d sent Grayson a short text that basically said I had a change of heart and decided to leave. I advised him not to look for me, or call me because I was blocking his phone number—which I did right afterward.
When I went to pick up Diamond, I told Emma that Grayson and I weren’t going to work out, but asked her to stay at the resort for a few weeks to finish off pending events.
“What happened?” she probed, concern marring her face. “You two are—were—so meant for each other.”
“Sometimes things just don’t go as planned.” I hugged her, holding back the flood of tears. “I’ll be going offline for a bit. No phone or social media. But I promise to call you whenever the dust from the breakup settles.”
I texted Lauren, telling her I had to leave France for a short while and would be in touch soon.
Then, I turned my phone off.
As it was, leaving Grayson forced me to abandon my friends, my followers, my life.
Back home,two hell-like days came and went while Mama kept trying to get me to talk. “What happened,mi amor?What did he do wrong?”
However, pain and anguish made it impossible for me to talk.
The only energy I had left was spent curled up in bed, tears like a never-ending stream down my face.
It hurt to breathe, hurt to think, hurt to exist.
By day three, grief had swallowed me whole.
No matter how hard I tried to forget, my mind exploded with memories, fragmented thoughts of him, of us. Visions of what was supposed to be our future, erupted in my mind like shrapnel. They were too vivid to evade and at the same time too painful to recall. I missed Grayson so much it hurt. I wanted the heartache to stop.
I suppose Mama had gotten to the point where she’d had enough. Storming into my suite, she demanded answers, Diamond in her arms meowing in agreement. “Sit up, Arabella. Tell me what happened or I’ll fly to Andorra myself and shake it out of him.”
Ashamed, I imagined I’d never be able to tell her the truth. But when Mama crawled into bed and held me, I could no longer hold myself together.
Sitting up in bed, my knees bent to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs, I turned my head to face Mama, who was sitting beside me. My lips felt cracked and dry, my eyes blurry from all the crying.
Get it together, Arabella. Tell her. You have nothing to be ashamed of.
Santana’s push set me off.
“Mama, under you and Papa, my whole life has been full of teachable moments. Guidance about self-respect, self-image, and how important all of that is to our family, the Royale name.”
A hint of a smile graced my mother’s lips as she stroked my hair.
“I’ve lived up to those principles, in everything I did, even down to the clothes on my back, the clothes I’d designed.” I swiped my eyes, willing myself to say what needed to be said without the wave of tears. “When I moved to France, those principles moved with me. Then I met this amazing man who made me feel like I could breathe, like I could be myself—just Arabella—without judgment. I fell in love”—my low voice quaked—“in the most sublime way possible.”
Diamond settled by my feet, purring against my toes.
“Grayson and I had sex. He was my first—which should come as no surprise to you, Mama.”
She opened her mouth to say something then instead closed it on a soft nod.
