Page 102 of His Prince

I want to forget I ever married him.

I want to forget it all.

But that’s not possible. Right now, I need to fake it. I need to pretend it’s fine. All while avoiding my husband so my dad doesn’t clue in on what’s going on. I don’t want anyone else hurt because of my mistakes. This is between me and my husband. Soon-to-beexif all goes according to plan.

Not that I have a plan. Just that I expect to be packing up and leaving shortly after my dad does. I need them gone first.

I need to handle this on my own.

I smile my way through cleaning up breakfast, trying not to think of the bodyguards and their betrayal, their silence through it all. And even still, I see the worry in their eyes, the feeling that something’s not quite right, but I force a smile at them, pretending I’m just fine before Tatum appears and lures me outside into the garden.

“Sorry about the late morning. But your dad needs to sleep more,” he says with a grin, oblivious to my internal pain.

“He does,” I say, forcing my mind to remain blank. “I’m glad he has you.”

“I’m not so sure he’s glad he has me sometimes. Especially when he was grumbling this morning.”

I let out a small laugh, and Tatum grins back.

“Your bodyguards here are very protective of you,” he says quietly.

Felix and Titus are lingering near me, but I make sure not to look at them.

“They just like my cooking.”

Tatum snorts. “I think it’s more than that. You’ve really made a home here.”

I swallow back my tears and nod. “I have. Now look, Teddy’s coming. I’ve missed his little picnic lunches.”

“Me too. Seems he only likes to put them together for you.”

As he says that Tatum flings out a quilt and we sit on it as Teddy sets a basket down by our feet. I peel it open and my stomach roils with nausea. I have no desire to eat, but I have to. I have to force it down.

“Oh yes, salami and cheese. Oh, and wine,” Tatum says and then holds the bottle out to Teddy for him to open.

As he pours us each a glass, I lean back and let the sun hit my cold, clammy skin.

“Are you happy here?” Tatum asks me as he sips his wine. I can feel Felix and Titus holding their breath as they wait for an answer.

“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’m as happy as I can be.”

Tatum glances at me, his eyebrows raised. “What the hell does that mean?”

I shrug and stare up at the fluffy clouds in the sky. “It means what it means.”

It means that I’m unhappy, but I’m doing the best I can. I’m trying. And as hard as I worked for it, it didn’t amount to anything. I’ll have to go home with my tail tucked between my legs. A failure at marriage and a failure at love.

Angelo Costello.

Failure extraordinaire.

I force my lips up into a smile and sigh. “I’m where I need to be right now.” I reach out and grab Tatum’s hand. “And I’m so glad you’re here, visiting.”

He grins at me. “I am too. I was worried about you. Your dad was too, but it seems…good here?”

That is asked as a question, but I ignore it. “How are you and my dad?”

“Fantastic. I think he’s a little obsessed with me,” he whispers loudly. “He got my name tattooed on his chest.”