Page 88 of American King (New Camelot Trilogy 3)
I pick my way closer to the shore and dip a toe in. It’s so cold I feel it seeping through my skin and into every bone in my foot. Doubt follows, even colder than the water. I don’t want to remember why I’m here now; I know why, but I can’t look at it directly, if I look at it, I will go mad. I will go not well.
Unhappiness was the color of Greer’s eyes as she said Dr. Ninian’s name tonight. As she sat in my living room with her Secret Service agent hovering by the door, as she told me that she was going to cut me down at the knees with my own sword.
My hate became such a gentle, floating thing then, enlightened even, because I was proud of her even inside of my hatred. Who else but me remembers that pale shadow of a girl who could barely bring herself to speak above a whisper—and now she is a queen. Now she has learned to be strong and cruel. I suppose she has me to thank for that.
I could have borne Greer. I could have borne Dr. Ninian and any legal battle, any shame; I have fought and conquered much worse.
But then Greer stood up, smoothing her skirt and nod
ding at the Secret Service agent, who opened the door, and in walked Maxen. In walked Maxen, tall and cold and stern, in all the ways I’ve ever wanted, because I craved his coldness and his sternness, because I knew they would make his warmth and affection all the more special when he gave them to me…and maybe he was there to give them to me?
Maxen didn’t sit. He didn’t come close, careful to keep space between us, careful not to touch me. “I understand that you were the one to reveal the truth about my son to the world,” he said. His voice made it clear it wasn’t a question, and I shivered at the chilled rasp of it. He was angry underneath all that calm, and suddenly I felt a flash of victory. I had made him feel; I had made him feel something about me.
“Yes,” I said. “I did it.”
“Why, Abilene?”
He said my name. And oh, it had tasted just as good on the shared air between us as I thought it would. That cool, rough stoic’s voice. Abilene, Abilene, Abilene.
“Because,” I said, being very brave, “I love you. And Greer doesn’t—not like I do, and you’ll see that now.”
And then his brow pinched in an expression I didn’t recognize…until the horrible, nauseous moment I did recognize it.
Pity.
He pitied me.
I felt the sickening split of my gut from my heart, my heart from my head, like the three of them were separate pinballs of shame, all spinning away from each other. How dare he pity me? After how strong I’d proved myself? After how far I’d come?
“You must know that I will never choose you.” He paused, his beautiful mouth sharp, and I saw the face of a man who could hurt people effortlessly. “And you should know that you failed. Nothing you’ve done has even nicked the love I bear for Greer and Embry.”
Something about his words itched me. “Embry?”
Neither Maxen or Greer answered, but suddenly I knew. I knew and it sent me spinning in even more directions, bumping aimlessly off the walls and ceilings and floors.
He loved Embry too.
It explained so fucking much. The sordid triangle of the three of them—of course I couldn’t compete with that, I couldn’t compete with two people, and how had I not seen it before? That all the angst between the three of them was something different, something…tawdry?
“It’s finished, Abi,” Greer said, stepping into her husband. “You’ve failed to force Maxen to love you, and whether or not Embry wins the White House, I’m using Dr. Ninian to finish your career and influence—if not your freedom. The games are over.”
I looked at Maxen, all the parts of me gathering again in a fever. He was everything, without him there was no reason to any of this, and I knew if he left right now, I wouldn’t be able to breathe any longer. “I love you,” I said in a wavering voice. “Maxen, I’d let you do anything to me, please. Just don’t leave.”
“Stay away from my family,” he said quietly.
And then they left and I spun apart into clacking chaos.
And then I came here. Here where the water is cold and where the current tugs on the hem of my dress. I slip my toes under the water again, stepping all the way down. Rocks and cold mud, just as cold as the water. Then the other foot, until I’m ankle-deep in the Potomac.
Why am I here?
Perhaps you’ve guessed by now. It was Maxen’s pity perhaps, or the shame it caused, or those mean, flinty words: I will never choose you. He doesn’t see all I’ve done for him, how much I’ve loved him, and it’s no different than my parents, or my grandfather, or all the people who were supposed to love me and let me love them and instead sent me away.
I’ll send myself away this time, I think shakily. Half anger, half freedom. It will be me pushing away from the world, and that will send a spear of pain right through everyone and they’ll deserve it.
She died because she loved him so, that’s what they’ll say. She died of a broken heart.
I step in up to my knees now, the river sucking more insistently at my dress. From my knees to my thighs, and I’m past goose bumps now. My lips would be blue if I could see them, and I’m shivering so hard my teeth chatter. Up to my hips. My navel. My breasts. My dress is so heavy that my feet still press against the riverbed floor, but the current is pushing, pushing.
