#i just know he internally cried tears of joy when mc ran towards him

[rafayelsgf]

razor dance card is the canon sylus fic with angst & hurt/comfort tags in it

[paulfwesley]

A Split Second (Part 2) [Bryce Lahela x f!MC]

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f!MC (Dr. Claire King).

Chapter Rating: T (one use of the f-word)

Word Count: 2.4K.

Description: A confrontation. Who will make it out? TW: guns, violence, blood. Part 1. 

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices’ Open Heart. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Claire King’s background is my own creation, based off of MC in-game’s personality.

Author’s Note: OKAY did NOT expect that reaction! I’m glad everyone loved the first part, and I hope you all enjoy part two! Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list! 

Tagging:@n-whas @anotherbeingsworld @frenchieswiftie @mightyloveoak @jaydito-tjjd @vamped99 @graphitekayla @bitchloveskcbaseball @jamespotterthefirst @commander-rahrah @macy-ray85

Enjoy! 

Bryce Lahela was a lot of things. 

A surgical resident. A guy with great hair. A guy who had magic hands. But he never expected to be a coward. 

Which he was. He was a coward for avoiding Claire; dodging her calls, avoiding hang out with their friends if she was there, running to the opposite side of the hospital if he even caught a whiff of her jasmine perfume wafting down the hall. Even still, he longed for the sight of her face, the sound of her laugh, the way she fit perfectly in the spot between his shoulder and his neck.

And he felt like such an idiot. When he first decided to try and cheer Claire up, it was just as a friend. Sure, he had some lingering feelings from their first days as interns, but one look at Claire and Doctor Ramsey in the same room and it was clear which doctor she had her sights on. He had given up all hope of trying to catch her attention and reserved himself to just being a good friend, trying his best to ignore the way his skin felt like it was on fire whenever she accidentally brushed his fingers, the way a thrill ran through his core whenever she smiled at him. 

And then Doctor Ramsey left, and Claire was left in shambles. Oh, she did a very good job of hiding it; smiling, laughing, engaging with her friends, staying on top of her patients and proving that she was deserving of the role of the Junior Fellow on the Diagnostics team. But Bryce knew her. Every smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, brightening her baby blues with joy that Bryce could lose himself in. She was quieter in gatherings, losing herself in her beer bottle and only speaking when spoken to. She didn’t banter like she normally did with her patients; they showed up, she diagnosed, and then they left. She couldn’t even find the joy in the job she loved because she couldn’t find the joy in her life. 

That was where Bryce drew the line. It was when he went up to her and asked her to go Go-Karting, like they did when they were in the midst of the drama with Mrs. Martinez. And even though her smile still seemed a bit forced, it was much better the next time they hung out and watched a movie. Horror, at his insistence, and she spent the entire movie in his shoulder. Bryce wasn’t going to lie; there was a reason he didn’t suggest a rom-com or a comedy. 

And then the night where they hung out as friends, and everyone went to bed one by one until it was just him and Claire, when she looked in his eyes with such a deep longing and vulnerability that he knew was reflected in his, he impulsively leaned over and kissed her. And when she didn’t pull away, when she tentatively pressed her lips back against his, wrapped her arms around his neck, sighed gently against him, he promised himself that he wouldn’t let it get serious, because that wasn’t what she was looking for. It wasn’t; she just wanted comfort, and well, Bryce was willing to give. 

For a long time, things were good. With each passing day, Claire became more and more like her old self. Bryce would turn the corner and catch her telling a story of a brave, fantastical mermaid to a six year old girl who had her eyes squeezed shut as she drew blood from her, and then he would watch that girl hug Claire because she made her feel safe. She always started the conversation as soon as they sat down in their usual booth at Donahue’s. At the end of each shift, when she met Bryce in the locker room, she smiled and wrapped her arm around his back, snuggling herself into his chest and telling him about her day. And at home, when their limbs were tangled together, and her breathing tickled his shoulder, Bryce thought life couldn’t get any better. 

And then Ramsey came back. 

His good life was shattered. Ramsey was back, which meant that Claire would go back to her pursuit of him. He knew her; Claire wasn’t the type to give up so easily on something. And he knew, when she decided to hang back and “check in about tomorrow” with Doctor Ramsey. Bryce wasn’t an idiot. But then again, maybe he was. Because he did the one thing he told himself not to do. 

Bryce figured it’d be easier to have a clean break; give the both of them some space to reset before he was ready to be around her without really being able to be with her. To program his chest not to tighten whenever he saw her across the hall, to control his hands when they itched to touch her when she sat beside him, to ignore the jump in his stomach when he saw her eyes light up when she laughed. That would take time. How long? He didn’t know. 

He was walking down the hall in Edenbrook, trying to think of where he could spend the lockdown (the surgical floor? He could catch up on his charts, but all work and no fun made Bryce Lehla a bored man. He wasn’t sure where his friends were either, and no one was answering their texts, and he was too afraid to try and find them in case Claire was with them; he didn’t want to be stuck there) when he turned the corner and someone collided with his chest. “Whoa!” he jostled, his hands automatically reaching out to catch the person who bumped into him. He looked down to see Sienna in his arms, eyes wild, panting, tears on her face. He frowned. “Sienna? What-”

Her eyes widened. “Bryce!” she choked. She pointed back in the direction she came from. “It’s--it’s Claire!” 

Bryce’s stomach dropped. “What? What about Claire?” 

Sienna choked out a sob. Her entire body shook underneath Bryce’s fingers, and he tightened his grip on her in an effort to keep her grounded. “Sienna, what happened to Claire?” 

Sienna’s jaw trembled. “S-shooter,” she breathed. “We’re under lockdown because of a shooter. And he’s here for Claire.” 

That was the last thing Bryce Lahela heard before he took off. He pointedly ignored Sienna’s desperate calls of his name, of her telling him to come back so they could find help. The only thing he heard was the thump of his blood in his ears. His heart hammered in his chest, his sneakers squeaking loudly against the linoleum. Bryce ran as fast as his legs could take him, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Not her not her not her not her not her not her--

He screeched to a stop when he turned the corner. Right in front of him stood Claire, her hands up, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She turned when she heard movement, and she gasped at the sight of him. Red rimmed her eyes, tears spilled down her cheeks, her parted lips wobbled. “Bryce--” she spluttered.

“Hey!” he heard, and he was forced to tear his gaze away from Claire to look at the man standing in front of them. He didn’t recognize him, but he pointed a gun in his face. Bryce’s arms immediately went into the air at the sight of the fury storming in the man’s eyes. “If it isn’t pretty boy!” 

Okay, so Bryce didn’t know him, but this man someone knew Bryce. “Sir--”

“Shut up!” the man shouted, his hand shaking, from anger, or nervousness, Bryce didn’t know. 

Claire discreetly took a step back, closer to Bryce. “Wally, it’s okay, he’s a friend-”

“He’s no friend!” Wally seethed. “He’s that guy you’re always with! At the bar, at the movies, at the park! He’s always there! You’re always smiling with him, kissing him!” His grip tightened on the gun. “How could you kiss him? After everything that happened between us?” 

Claire furrowed her brows. “Nothing happened between us, Wally,” she said in the gentlest, softest voice. “You came in after a car crash, I treated you, and that was it.” 

“No!” Wally cried. Tears poked out of the corner of his eyes. “Don’t you remember?” 

“Okay buddy, just take a breath--” Bryce tried, but instead Wally took a threatening step towards the two of them. 

“Shut your fucking mouth before I blow your brains all over the wall,” he growled. 

“No!” Claire’s eyelids flew open as she stepped directly in front of Bryce. He immediately put his hand on her shoulder and tried to force her back, she her feet stayed rooted in place. Her hands shook and her lips trembled, but she still had a strong resolve on her face. She wasn’t going down without a fight. Bryce couldn’t help but stare at her in awe, despite the situation. “Wally, I see so many people every week--” she started.

“But how could you forget?” he seethed. “What you said to me? You said, you said, ‘Any woman would be lucky to have you, Wally’, remember? Remember?”

She gulped. “I remember,” she said quickly, though when her eyes briefly flickered over at Bryce, he knew she was lying. “I remember. But I wasn’t talking about me.”

“Of course you were,” Wally said quickly. “You just didn’t want to make the first move. That’s why I started following you around. I found you at that bar, and I finally had the confidence to go up and talk to you. You were walking out with that guy, and just as I started walking towards you, you stopped and kissed him in the street!” he growled. “What does he have that I don’t, huh?” 

“Wally, it’s not about you,” Claire said in her steadiest voice, though Bryce could hear the tremble. “I’m sorry if I made it seem like I was into you, but--”

“But nothing!” Wally cut in. “You’re just like every other bitch out there. You play with a man’s feelings and then turn around and ignore him!” He flicked the safety off. “Not anymore. If I kill you, then kill me, we can be together, with no one else around to keep you from me. Everything will be okay.”

All the colour drained from Claire’s face, and anger flashed in Bryce’s chest. He staggered forward, throwing up a fist. “You son of a bitch! If you even harm one hair on her head--”

“Hey!” Wally shouted. He took a step back but kept the gun trained on him. “I’m the one with the gun, asshole! So just stay back. This is between me and Doctor King.”

“Wally, please!” Claire cried. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Yes, I do!” He exclaimed. “Don’t you see, Claire? This is the only way we can be together!” 

“Wally,” Bryce cut in. Claire looked over her shoulder at him, eyes pleading for him to shut up, but he wasn’t never good at that. “If you love Claire like you say you do, you’d never even think about hurting her.”

“What do you know about it?” He growled.

“Because I love her too!” Bryce revealed. He didn’t look at Claire, but he could feel the intensity of her gaze burning his cheekbones. “I love her too,” he said softer. “I know everything about her. I know she makes fun of Grey’s Anatomy when she watches it with her friends, but she truly loves the show. She’s a weirdo who burns her toast to a crisp and butters both sides. She’s the clumsiest person that’s ever existed; she could trip over thin air. She sang in an a Capella group in university and isn’t the least bit ashamed.

“She’s also the strongest person I know. She’s… she’s been through a lot in the past year. She’s been betrayed, she experienced a loss, and… and she went through a bad heart break. But she always made it seem like it wasn’t so bad, because that’s just the person she is. She’ll take on everyone else’s pain and problems and never talk about her own, because she doesn’t want to burden anybody.” Bryce gulped, his mouth dry, his throat tight. “And I have spent the last few months tortured, because I had to see her in pain because I didn’t know how to take it away. I wake up everyday thinking about how I’m going to make Claire smile, because she always knows how to make me smile, even when she can’t. And now… now I know she can never be mine, because she loves someone else.” He shook his head. “But all the same... a bright light like her… someone who just knows how to make your day better, who you know would never harm anybody, who makes this world a better place just by existing,  if it were to ever leave this world, it’d be a much darker place, and I know you don’t want to be responsible for that.” He drew a deep breath, and this time, he risked a peek at Claire. She stared at him, her lips parted, her eyes filled with awe, tears spilling down her cheeks. “When you love someone, when they hurt, you hurt.” He turned back to Wally. “And I’ll die before I let her hurt again.” 

Wally’s face had changed throughout Bryce’s speech. The anger in his eyes shifted to a sort of mutual understanding over the love they had for this one girl, though Wally’s type of love wasn’t quite right. Then, when he talked about Claire’s light, Bryce swore he saw something like sorrow, like he had just visited a world where Claire didn’t exist, and he didn’t like it. But when his gaze landed on Claire, staring at Bryce with wonder, like he was the sun, like every word that just came out of his mouth made all of her dreams come true, the vexation resurfaced, brighter and hotter and angrier than before. He moved his hand clutching the gun. “Then so be it.” 

“NO!” Claire screeched, her eyes jumping from Wally teasing the trigger back to Bryce.  When it finally registered to Bryce what Wally was going to do, he reached for Claire, shouting, “Claire!” just as Claire moved to push Bryce out of the way. 

The gun went off with a loud pop that echoed, the barrel smoking as the bullet whizzed through the air. An anguished cry broke the silence, reverberating off of the walls and carrying down the hall. 

A split second. That was all it took. 

Just a split second. 

[alwaysmychoices]

“I Left Because I Loved Him”

Synopsis: On the day of Liam’s wedding to Madeleine, Collins must say goodbye to the man she loves...

Pairing: Liam x MC (Collins Alexander)

Rating: Teen (language)

Word Count: 3573

Prompt: 15. “Tell me you don’t love me” from @ladynevrakis  

Note: I said this would be really sad, and honestly, the final edit didn’t turn out nearly as sad I expected. My bad...

Part Two: “A Cordonian in America”

“This wedding is tacky, and the drinks are terrible,” Maxwell eyed the morning festivities with feigned distaste, looking for every flaw in Madeleine’s sophisticated affair. This morning he’d threatened to throw his own party and steal all of Madeleine’s guests, but Bertrand expertly talked him off that ledge. Running away solved nothing as Maxwell learned, but complaining certainly helped.

“That’s your third mimosa, Maxwell,” I reminded him, motioning towards the flute in his hand.

“Exactly, they’re watered down,” the words rolled off his tongue like it was the ultimate insults, but I was relieved that he was right. Had Maxwell really been able to drown himself in mimosas and champagne, we’d have reached disaster hours ago.

Cameras flashed in our direction, pausing our conversation as Maxwell and I smiled politely and breezed in the opposite direction of the reporters. I couldn’t stomach any more questions this morning, and as my minder became more and more intoxicated, I didn’t trust Maxwell to adequately protect me from them. Maxwell muttered something about how rude the reporters were, calling one an “asshat” with vehemence, but I didn’t chime in.

I was too sad to complain. To lost in despair to bitch about Madeleine and other inconveniences.

Because the truth was… the wedding was stunning. Every detail had been expertly attended to. It was the most elegant and beautiful affair I could have ever dreamed off, and even through our whining, everyone enjoyed the pre-wedding brunch as we waited for the celebration to officially begin at the Cordonia Chapel.

Today was a monumental day. It was the Cordonian Royal Wedding.

King Liam would finally take a bride and provide Cordonia with a queen. Commemorative plates were already prepared, and international attention centered on our delightful little island. The tourism boost alone brought millions in to the economy, and with a vital young king and his lovely queen, experts anticipated more.

I dreamed about Liam’s wedding day, but it in every daydream, I was the bride.

When Maxwell whisked me off to Cordonia to compete for Liam’s love and hand in marriage, it was a fairytale. I thought I was Cinderella running into the arms of my prince, but instead, I was the ugly step sister trying to steal to the king away. I was the mistress tucked in the wings, hiding her quivering lip with every royal display of affection. Madeleine was about to become the victorious queen, and I was some heartbroken commoner.

“Lady Collins, how are you coping now that your name has been cleared but Liam insists on marrying another?” a reporter screamed from the edge of the party, and I was taken aback, staring into the camera like a silent fool.

I forced my panic down as I calmly approached the reporter, feigning a sugary sweet smile I’d perfected just for the occassion. “Today, I am very happy for King Liam and Lady Madeleine. Cordonia is blessed by such committed rulers, and I am honored to attend their wedding and wish the couple happiness and prosperity.”

Reporters scrambled to document my statement, snapping photos as they contained their disappointment at my kind words , and as I returned to the party and requested security to remove the asshole, I could only imagine the headlines. “Royal Ex-Lover Wishes King Liam Well!” “10 Reasons why Lady Madeleine is the Queen Collins Alexander Could Never Be.” “Ex-Waitress, Now Lady Collins Serves Her Blessing to the Royal Couple!”

I reached for a passing mimosa, gripping onto the step with such intensity that the glass felt like it might snap in my hand, and if it had, maybe I could have been spared. In the ER, I could just pretend this wasn’t happening. I could be sedated and conclude my ongoing panic attack this wedding brought on.

“Collins…” Maxwell’s voice was soft as he approached me, “Are you okay?”

“Mmmhmm,” I lied through my teeth, knocking back a mimosa and bitterly realizing Maxwell didn’t overestimate how watered down they were, “Just trying to get through the day.”

“You’re doing beautifully. Bertrand would be proud,” Maxwell patted my shoulder, and I nodded in agreement. Bertrand had the decency not to shower me in meaningless compliments today, leaving me to my silent grieving while Maxwell did his best to bring me out of my self-inflicted darkness.

“Maxwell,” I looked around the party, sighing as I suggested, “You don’t need to look after me. I’m doing okay. I’m not making a scene, and I’ll be on a plane within an hour of the ceremony. This is your best friend’s wedding. Don’t let me sour everything for you.”

Maxwell vigorously disagreed, “I’m not letting you sour it, Collins! Liam’s making a mistake, and we both know it. And I want to be here for my other best friend. You, Collins. You’re House of Beaumont- now and forever. How about a dance battle to cheer you up?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The relief, though only momentary, swept over me with such intensity that it gave me hope. I would survive this. It may take time, but I knew I would. This would not end Collins Alexander, though it would irrevocably change her. I would smile again. I would laugh again. And if I was truly lucky, maybe I could find love again I just needed to keep hope.

“I’m good, thanks,” I shook my head, holding up my mimosa glass, “But I want you to know how much I’ll miss those.”

“Do you really have to go?” Maxwell asked for the third time today, and I nodded my head with resolve.

“It’s the best… for all of us,” I looked around the party full of people ready to celebrate Liam and Madeleine, and I found reassurance in their certainty of the couple. I didn’t need to be here and be surrounded by everyone else’s joy. It wasn’t fair to their joint reign- or my sanity. It was time for me to leave Cordonia.

Maxwell’s face fell as I once again assured him that I was really leaving, so I nudged him gently, “My new job at the Cordonian embassy comes with an apartment in New York. You could always visit me, you know. I’m gonna miss my alarm clock.” I leaned in a little closer, “Hana’s already coming to stay with me next month for fashion week. It’d be like a mini reunion. Plus, I know you’ve been trying to ask her out for months.”

I laughed as Maxwell tugged me into a hug, murmuring, “God, I’m going to miss you, Collins.”

I hugged him back and let the moment distract me from the hell that was my life, but then I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I pulled away and turned to see none other than Drake Walker, awkwardly tugging on the bottom of his tux jacket and waiting to get my attention.

“Drake, you look…” I giggled, “fancy.”

“Don’t get used to it, Alexander. It’s just for this one day,” Drake insisted, “But I’m not here to be made fun of. I’m here on official business.”

I cocked an eyebrow, waiting for his explanation.

“Best man business.”

My heart sank, and I toyed with my necklace, gripping the pearl from the grotto to maintain a smile. It was Liam’s final gift, something to remind me that it was all real.

“Oh?” I asked, my voice nearly cracking.

“Your presence is requested by the groom,” Drake looked down, and I nodded solemnly.

“Who am I to deny the king?” I laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with all of my friends as I handed my glass to Maxwell. I’d been dreading this for weeks.

Our final meeting before I left.

Last night, we’d done all we needed to. We’d cried and had sex and kissed and made promises we knew we’d never keep. He offered to run away with me, but I didn’t let him. We kissed goodbye and accepted our fate like a man walking to the gallows, but we both knew that we couldn’t stand not to see each other one last time before everything was cemented with a marriage document.

Maxwell gave my hand a reassuring squeeze of the hand, and I squeezed his back. Taking a deep breath, I stepped away and followed Drake through the crowded brunch. Nobles stopped and watched us, giving us intrigued stares. As I listened to their whispering, some pitied me. Others wondered if the two commoners in Liam’s life had established a romantic relationship, and several wondered where the hell we were going. I kept my head down, afraid for them to see the tears prickling at my eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” Drake whispered, holding his hand out for mine, and I squeezed his back.

“Thank you, Drake,” I murmured. Looking at him, I wished I’d picked him. I wished I’d loved him so much that Liam didn’t matter anymore. I wished it could have been different between the two of us, but it wasn’t. Maybe I’d love him once the grief and disappointment faded. Yet, I worried that I’d latch on in desperation after losing Liam, and I knew that wasn’t fair to Drake.

Drake nodded with a consoling smile, and I walked closer to him, subconsciously craving his protection as we entered the eye of the storm. Wedding planners and wedding party members bustled about, preparing for the impending ceremony. I kept my head down to avoid having to speak to them, but naturally, I couldn’t fully escape.

“Lady Collins, what a surprise!” Madeleine’s laugh reverberated through the halls, making my stomach clench. I forced myself to turn to face her, hiding my grimace as she leaned into the doorway of the bridal room. Bridesmaids and staff ran around behind her, waiting for her to return to preparations.

“Lady Madeleine, you look lovely,” I shoved the compliment from my lips.

Madeleine waved off an insistent hairstylist applying the final bobby pins to a complex up-do, turning her attention to me. Even though she hadn’t fully finished dressing, I already knew she would be beautiful on her wedding day. From her lavish gown to her elegant pose, she was prepared for today, and as I bitterly looked at her stomach, I knew all she’d done to get it.

“Is champagne really appropriate?” I looked at her glass with disgust, and Madeleine’s lips curved into an eerie smile. The bitch had won, and she knew it.

“I hope you’ll return from New York when Liam and I decide to produce an heir,” Madeleine patted her flat belly victoriously, “There will be so many events, and the press will love it.”

Her threat still rang in my ears, reminding me of the moment where it’d all gone wrong. Liam and I had been so… happy. My name had been cleared, and Liam was intent on calling off his engagement after his engagement party was disrupted. But Madeleine was prepared with a reporter ready to run the story that he had abandoned his pregnant fiancé to join me, his mistress. She had pictures of the two of us and a fake pregnancy test to wave around the press. She’d already found some law citing that he would be abandoning the rightful Cordonian heir, and from there, I’d stopped listening.

Madeleine never had the decency to accept defeat, so I guess I had to.

“Madeleine, don’t be a bitch,” Olivia’s voice was a welcome relief, and I almost actually hugged her when she appeared from the bridal room, “I love torturing people as much as the next girl, but I know the line.”

Madeleine’s jaw tightened, and she waved us off.

“Goodbye, Collins. Feel free to grab a mimosa on the way out!” Madeleine returned to the suite, and Olivia offered me a smirk and a wink, the closest thing to an emotional goodbye I would ever get out of her.

I watched as the door was slammed in my face by one of Madeleine’s minions, and I took a deep, calming breath. I just wanted to react for once. To scream at her. To bitch about my situation. To yell at someone. To hit something- or some bride. To just cry. But I didn’t get to.

I had to hold it all in for the press, for myself, and for Liam.

“Ready to see him?” Drake asked as we came closer to a grand door labeled for the groom.

“You mean say goodbye?” I raised an eyebrow, “Drake, it’s okay to say it. Beating around the bush won’t accomplish anything.”

“You’re doing remarkably well,” Drake noted, “Whiskey in that bag?” he pointed to my clutch, and I shook my head with a chuckle.

“No, though I wish that was true,” I felt strange laughing now, so I smiled and shrugged,  “I’ve been dreading this day for weeks, and now that it’s here, it’s time to accept it. I know Liam’s having a hard time, and I want to be strong for him while I can. I’ll just get hammered on the flight and cry then.”

Drake’s eyes filled with compassion, and he opened his mouth but closed it again when he realized there was nothing he could say. Nothing could make this moment better. We had to grin and bear it with a smile.

So that was what we did as we approached the groom’s room. Drake knocked twice, and I lost my breath when I heard Liam’s voice respond. Everything about him hurt now, reminding me of what I couldn’t have.

Drake left me to enter by myself, and with a deep breath summing up all my bravery, I opened the double doors and took my first step inside of the groom’s chambers, sadly noting it was identical to Madeleine’s. I couldn’t escape her today. I couldn’t escape any of this.

But there was one perfect thing Madeleine’s room lacked, and he stood in the center of the room with an expression twisted into a pained, forced smile that surely mirrored mine. I took one look at him and knew he felt everything I did, and I took relief in knowing that there was one person who knew. Who understood how every inch of my body ached and burned in my personal hell. Yet, it was the one person I never wanted to feel this pain.

“Liam,” I breathlessly stepped closer to him, so lost in his eyes that I didn’t even notice that Drake closed the door behind me for our last moment of privacy. Now that it was here, I’d lost everything I’d wanted to say. All the pretty words I’d prepared on the drive to the wedding disappeared.

We stood in silence, soaking each other in with bittersweet smiles.

“You wore it,” Liam smiled at my necklace, and I instinctively wrapped my palm around the single pearl on the necklace Liam had given me. It was from an unforgettable night in the grotto, the one where I promised I’d always stay and where Liam promised we’d be together for the rest of our lives. In the end, we both broke our promises, and this pearl served as a bittersweet reminder of all we’d given each other and all we’d lost.

“I can’t imagine a day where I won’t wear it,” I admitted, laughing sheepishly, and that brought a warm grin to Liam’s lips.

I bit my lower lip, eyeing Liam with profound appreciation, “You look… exactly like I thought you would today.”

Liam raised his eyebrows, stepping closer as he asked, “I hope that’s a good thing, Lady Collins.”

“It’s a perfect thing,” I confessed, sniffling as I tried to keep it together, “You’re the picture of a happily ever after.” I realized what was wrong when I said it, so I avoided his pained gaze and quickly changed the subject before Liam could insist on a deeper discussion and make me break my personal vow not to cry in front of him before I left. I motioned towards his cufflinks, laughing as I added, “Though the green was a bold choice. I’m amazed Madeleine would permit such a daring statement at the royal wedding.”

Liam’s face lit up as he looked down at his cufflinks, holding his hand out for me as he asked, “You don’t recognize them?”

I shook my head gently, leaning in to further inspect them, and I lost my breath. He was wearing the ones I gave him China… and just like that, whatever show I tried to put on for him was gone. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t pretend to be okay.

“How are you doing?” I whispered, the question feeling so intimate I almost feared asking.

“Me? How are you?” Liam placed his hands on my hips, looking down at me with genuine concern, “You look like I broke you…”

“I’ll be okay…” I lied, “At least I have Maxwell’s breakdancing to console me. You, on the other hand, are about to make a lifelong vow you don’t even want to make. I hope Drake has the decency to share some of that hidden whiskey.”

It was the first real laugh I’d gotten from Liam in a long time, and I wish I could have recorded it.

“You know things are bad when Drake has to spend an evening with Olivia and thinks you need the whiskey more than he does,” Liam chuckled, gently pushing my hair out of my face to look down at me.

I met his eyes, struggling to contain the sad smile that perked at my lips. Even during all of this, I couldn’t not smile. I couldn’t be around him and not genuinely enjoy it. I couldn’t stop loving him.

“So… You’re leaving today?” Liam asked softly, and I nodded.

“My flight’s at two. Bertrand has a car waiting to make sure that I could attend the ceremony, but…” my smile fell for a moment, “I don’t really think I can.”

Liam understood and accepted my decision, “This is it then?”

“I guess so…” I looked up to ward off oncoming tears, “New York awaits, and… Married life awaits you, too.”

“Collins…” Liam’s voice cracked, and it pushed me over the edge. My breathing grew more rapid as my face twisted into the sincere panic I’d felt all day. Liam’s arms wrapped around me as tears finally escaped, spilling down my cheeks and cooling my burning soul.

“I can’t do this,” I sobbed, “I can’t watch you marry her and pretend everything’s alright. I can’t be here and know that this is going to be your life. That you’ll be stuck with some conviving bitch threatening your every move,”  Anger and resentment poured out of me, leaving more room for the pain, “And I can’t look at you like this and know that you hurt just as much as I do.”

“It’s fucking hell,” Liam’s words surprised me as he tugged me into a tight embrace, and I buried my face in his chest, closing my eyes tight.

“How can I make this better for you?” I whispered, making Liam laugh.

He pulled away just enough to look at me, brushing my hair out of my eyes as he whispered, “Tell me you don’t love me.”

I sighed, staring up at him and offering a half smile as I obliged, “I don’t love you, Liam Rhys.”

Liam chuckled, shaking his head as he responded, “For someone so skilled with the press, you’re a terrible liar, Collins Alexander.”

Leaning on my tippy toes, I gently ran my fingers through Liam’s hair, bringing him closer to me.

We’d kissed hundreds of times since I’d met him that night in New York City. Usually, the kisses were full of fire and passion, yearning for more of each other. They burned at your skin and excited something deep inside of you, sparks hitting every nerve ending. But today, we had a kiss I would never forget. It was beautiful and tragic, a kiss that begged for a reprieve from our fate. In it, I felt like we had a lifetime together, and that made pulling away that much harder.

The knock at the door startled us. Two clear rasps hit against the wood, and I knew that it was Drake telling us that our time was over. I sighed and pulled away, holding on to Liam’s hand for as long as I could.

“I love you, Liam.”

“I love you, Collins,” Liam squeezed my hand one final time.

Finally, our hands parted, and I wiped any smeared mascara off my face before turning to the door. I lingered at the doorway, hesitating before I left. There was one last thing I needed to say.

“Be happy,” I startled Liam, who stared at me in disbelief as I continued, “Be happy in spite of it. Have beautiful children you adore, and be an amazing father like you’ve always wanted. Promise me that you’ll try to be happy.”

Liam nodded solemnly, “I promise… But only if you promise, too.”

“I do,” I let another tear fall, and I laughed as I wiped it away. With one last smile, I left Liam.

I left him to do what he had to do- to marry Madeleine and rule Cordonia. I left him to the life he would have to lead without me. I left Liam even though it nearly killed me. I left because I had to. I left because I loved him.

Part II: A Cordonian in America