Page 52 of Princess

“I wouldn’t have done it like that if I’d been better prepared,” he says, sitting on the bed so he’s closer to me. He’s wearing nothing but his underwear. “I would have talked to you about it first. But I thought we would need you to make up numbers, so I didn’t think there would be a choice. Then when there was enough, I thought I could manage it somehow. I knew you’d want to go, and I thought I could grit my teeth and bear it. But I can’t. I was standing there, picturing it happen, and I couldn’t do it. I just… can’t. I can’t let it happen. That’s why I did it in front of everyone.”

Part of me recognizes he’s opening up more to me now than he almost ever does, but I’m too upset to be happy about it. “It’s not about you. What I do or don’t do is my choice, not yours. I understand that you don’t like the idea of me walking into a fight, but you don’t get to make that decision.”

“I know that,” he mutters. “The choice got taken out of my hands.”

“It was never in your hands to begin with! That’s what you don’t seem to get. I know when we first met I was only seventeen, and I was spoiled and kind of helpless. But I’m none of those things anymore. You fuck me like I’m an adult woman. You don’t get to also treat me like a child.”

“I’ve never treated you like a child.” He’s angry now. Not just defensive but angry in his soft, gruff way. “In anything. That isn’t what this is about, and you know it.”

I give him a reluctant nod to acknowledge the point because I know it’s true. Even on the first day we met, he didn’t treat me like a child. “Okay, fine. Not a child. But not like a capable human being who is in the same situation here as everyone else. I’m not a sheltered princess or a porcelain doll, Grant. I’mnot. I don’t care that my dad was a billionaire. He did everything he could to get us through Impact, and he still ended up dying. All his money and resources couldn’t save him. We’re all doing the best we can to survive and make a life here. There’s no such thing as princesses in this world. You’ve got to stop treating me like one.”

He’s still angry. Breathing loud and heavy. But there’s more going on in his face now. Something deep and intense and angsty. It takes a long time, but he finally rasps out, “You’remyprincess. You can’t be surprised when I do anything—absolutely anything—to keep you safe.”

My stupid soft heart. It cracks right in two at his words. My throat closes up, and my eyes burn. I love the sound of the words so much that I almost collapse in his arms, but something more important than sentiment is at stake right now. I manage to push back the tears. Since I can’t get any words out, I shake my head.

He makes a frustrated sound. “Damn it, Olivia, I’m never going to let it happen. I’m never going to let you get hurt if there’s anything I can do to stop it from happening. Why are you even questioning this now? It’s always been that way. On the first day I met you, I promised your dad that if anything managed to get to you, I’d already be dead. It’s been true ever since. Protecting you has always been my job.”

“I was seventeen back then! I couldn’t do anything to keep myself safe. But I can now. You know that because you’re the one who taught me how. It’s not your job anymore. It’s not your responsibility or your duty or your burden or your fuckingjob!” My voice is getting louder, and something like desperation is clenched in my chest.

“Okay, then fuck responsibility and duty.” His jaw is clenched, and the thick muscles of his thighs are visibly tense. “Fuck all that. It doesn’t change anything. Because I’m still going to do anything to keep you safe. What the hell do you think would be left for me in this world if anything happened to you?”

I’m flushed and tense and trembling and want nothing more than to shake sense into his obstinate head, but the hoarse question touches me anyway. My chest hurts so much I have to cover it with one hand.

“I’ll have nothing.” Grant’s hand is tightly gripping the covers like he’s using the clenched fist to channel everything he’s feeling. “Nothing. Without you.”

“And it never occurs to you that I feel the same way? I’m expected to let you rush into danger at top speed over and over again even if it means you get killed. How the hell do you think that makesmefeel?”

Again he breathes loud and raspy for a long time until the words finally come. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Why the fuck not? Because you’re somehow invincible? Unbreakable? Unkillable? You’re not. You’renot! You could die tomorrow just as easily as me, and then what would I be left with?”

Something hangs in the balance for a minute. Something important. I feel it shuddering in the air between us as both of us sit on the bed, panting and glaring at each other.

Then the moment shifts. The air shifts. The planet shifts. Grant glances away from me and mutters, “I’ve made arrangements if that happens.”

“What?”My voice breaks.

“I’ve made arrangements. You’ll be taken care of. You won’t be left unprotected.”

Nothing he’s said or done in five years has hurt as much as this does. My anger has been completely swallowed by something that feels more like heartbreak. “You think that’s what I’m worried about?” I ask in a hoarse whisper. “Protection?”

He makes a weird half shrug. He’s still not meeting my eyes. “And if you need more than that, there’ll be a line stretching more than a mile of men who want to fuck you.”

And that’s the very last straw for me. I fight back a sob so hard it comes out as a strangled whimper. I lower myself back to the bed and curl up into a ball, facing away from him. I don’t want him to see me cry.

“Princess,” he murmurs thickly. He puts one big hand on my shoulder.

I shrug away from his touch and don’t turn back toward him like I know he wants. “No. Just no.”

He’s silent for a long time. Then I feel him getting under the covers beside me and stretching out. He doesn’t touch me again. But after he turns out the lantern, he says, “I’m sorry. I really am.”

I believe him. But sorry isn’t going to touch what he’s just made clear to me. How things between us are never going to be what I need them to be.

So I huddle into myself and work on not crying until I finally fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

I don’t sleep well, and I wake up after just a few hours. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s pitch-black in our small room.

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