Page 23 of Breathtaking

But I’m a bigger person.Bony assand all.

Fucker.

“Father’s birthday reception is Sunday. There’s a dinner tonight, hunting tomorrow, and another dinner tomorrow night. I’ve been told your grandfather will even be in attendance Sunday.”

Of course he will. Because why wouldn’t we make this even more complicated?

“Montgomery...” I pull the only card I can think of. “I think I have the flu. Could you even imagine if I come and infect all your parents’ friends? The scandal. Not only that everyone got sick at their party, but that the king could get sick as well. I mean, that’s social suicide.”

A disgusted noise gurgles thick in his throat.

Gross.

“Fine,” he grunts and disconnects the call.

Such an asshole.

* * *

The entire ride to my doctor’s office, I replayed that miserable conversation over in my head. I wish I could say it’s out of the ordinary for Monty and me, but it’s not. We’ve known each other for most of our lives, and my brothers and I have disliked him for just as long. But I guess that wasn’t enough to make my parents think twice about our arrangement.

It’s not like they were bad people.

They were just people who relied on tradition to guide their lives.

Unfortunately for Atticus, Rhys, and me, they relied on it to guide ours as well.

My life has rarely ever been mine to live as much as it’s been a tool for the crown to use in some way. It’s why I pushed so hard for ballet. I knew if I was good enough, it would be my golden ticket to freedom. I’d hoped at the time it was all I’d need. I had no idea about the contract or the plan my parents had for my future.

I’m not sure which was harder... finding out who my fiancé was or realizing that my family essentially sold me for political gain.

Now, here I sit after peeing in a cup, chilled to the bone in an itchy paper gown on a table in my ob-gyn’s office. Waiting for someone I see once a year to come in and essentially either disarm the impending bomb I’ve created in my head or press the button that’s going to blow up my life.

“Knock, knock,” I hear from a sweet voice on the other side of the door before my doctor comes in. “Hello, Your Royal Highness.” Her smile is riddled with anxiety, causing uncontrollable laughter to bubble up in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I try to tell her through my laugh. “It’s just... you look so scared. Aren’t you supposed to be the one calming me down?”

She looks down at the tablet in her hands, then back at me. “There’s nothing to be concerned about.” She moves next to the table and smiles. “How are you feeling, Lennon?”

“I’m about as good as I’m going to get. My nerves are shot, and I’m hoping you’re about to tell me the many pregnancy tests I took at home were all wrong and instead maybe I have some incurable disease or something.” Okay... Maybe Atticus is right, and I am a teeny, tiny drama queen.

Her face tenses, and my stomach drops.

I can’t do this. I need to know.

She closes her tablet and places it on the counter, then looks back at me with a soft smile and grabs a pair of gloves. “It appears those were correct, Lennon. According to our test, you are pregnant.” She moves next to me and grabs a squeeze bottle. “How about you open your gown and we’ll see just how far along you are?”

* * *

It’s crazy how much one hour can change things.

I walked into that office convinced—well, at least trying to convince myself—there was no way I was pregnant. Of course I was wrong. But that’s not why I’m shocked.

No... What’s shocking me isn’t the fear. And there’s plenty of that pulsing through me. It’s the other emotion balancing that out. The one I can’t quite name. The one making my heart speed up and slow at the same time.

Maria clears her throat from the front of the car. “Are we going to Mornea this weekend?”

I run my thumb over the ultrasound picture, still reeling. “No,” I murmur without looking up. “We’re going to Kroydon Hills.”

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