I really didn’t know what I was expecting during my time at the hospice. My mother didn’t wake up at all during the time I was there, which I was completely fine with. At the same time, though, I began to wonder why I came at all. Did I want to speak to her? She was obviously awake yesterday to call me. When I think about it, I guess her voice did sound weak over the phone. I just assumed it was because of our strained relationship – not her strained life.

A week, maybe two at best, was what Callum had said. Twenty-three years, and it all came down to this last week or so.

Nurses visited a few times throughout the day just to check on her, but other than that, we weren’t bothered. When a nurse came in at 5 to remind me that visiting hours were ending, I picked up my bag and left the room. I stopped at the front desk to ask for the paper that listed the owed payment.

“I can set up a meeting, if you want, to discuss the options for payment?” the woman with the nice face asked.

If she was talking about options for payment, it must be a heavy payment. I shook my head, took the paper without glancing at the numbers, and exited the hospice. I didn’t look at it again until I was home and eating dinner.

The sum wasn’t too terrible – I could cover it. I would have to put it on a credit card and pay it off over time, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle with my new job’s salary. However, it would leave me with very little left over. And that didn’t even take into account the costs of a funeral. I knew for a fact she didn’t have life insurance. No company in their right mind would insure her.

I sat back in my chair, my dinner only half eaten. My appetite was gone. I tossed the paper onto the table and rubbed my face. Even in death, she was a hassle.

I almost jumped when my phone rang. I reached forward, not recognizing the number. Afraid it was the hospice saying she’d already passed, I slid to unlock the screen.

“Yes?”

“Carolina?”

Immediately, I recognized the voice. “Callum.”

“Yeah, hey. I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, seeing as we just talked about it today, but would you want to catch a drink tonight? I just got off my shift and could really use one.”

The image of my mother’s jaundiced skin and bloated abdomen came to mind, immediately putting me off of drinking seeing as how that’s what put her in that state. But I couldn’t blink the image of Callum’s kind face out of my mind. I hated how much I actually wanted to see him. I hadn’t thought about him in years, yet the moment he stepped into that hospice room I felt like a slice of my life was fitting back into place.

“I’d really love to, Callum, but… well, no offense, but I think I’ll be staying off drinking for a while.” I let out a dry chuckle. “I might just hang around my house, tonight, if you don’t mind, and do some cleaning. This place could really use it.” It looked like she hadn’t cleaned since I left five years ago. Maybe she hadn’t. But I didn’t say that to him.

“Tell you what – I’ll come round and I can help, yeah?”

Well… there was a lot to clean…

“That sounds great, actually.”

“Fantastic. I’ll see you in fifteen.”

“You remember where?”

“Of course. I’ve always remembered.”

I hung up and couldn’t help but smile to myself.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Again, I’m surprised the door didn’t fall in on itself. I let him in and almost laughed at the bags he was carrying. I peered inside of one and saw even more cleaning supplies, as well as a margarita mix.

“It’s non-alcoholic,” he told me as he saw me notice it.

“I know,” I said, smiling sweetly. “I remember. I’m surprised you remember.”

“What, that we bought it from the store when we were fifteen, thinking it was alcoholic and feeling like we were getting away with stealing the Crown Jewels? Only to realize halfway through that we were basically just drinking lime water?”

I laughed and locked the door behind him. But the mention of the Crown Jewels was still a small stab in the heart. I remembered the Love Tiara then and wished I didn’t. It was a stupid dream to have.

We both donned rubber gloves and began going to town in the kitchen since that seemed to be the grimiest of the house. I was scrubbing the counter while he was knelt inside the oven, peeling away however-many-years-worth of muck. While inside the echoing chamber, he and I were talking as if no time had passed between us. I missed it. I missed him, I realized. He had been my only friend, really, while I grew up. I didn’t meet Pip until freshers at uni.

“So, what’s it been, hm?” he asked, his voice slightly echoing inside the oven. “Four, five years?”

“Five years, yeah. Crazy. I can’t believe you’re a doctor. Should I call you Doctor Watford, then?”

We both chuckled.

“Only if you want to get kicked,” he replied. He stuck his head outside the oven for a moment, offering me a sweet smile. We each paused for a moment, looking at the other. I knew I didn’t look my best, getting dirty and scrubbing away on a counter. But at that moment, I didn’t care.

“So, uh, what about you? Your family? How’s Sophie?” I stammered, turning back to my cleaning. He dove back inside the oven.

“My sister’s fine, everyone’s good. My mom had a bit of a scare a couple years ago with breast cancer, but so far she’s been in remission.”

“I’m so sorry,” I replied. “But I’m glad she’s alright now.”

“Is this the first time you’ve been back?”

“Yeah. Well, except for a few holidays here and there. But…” I shrugged. “I really only stayed around for a day or two.”

This time when he popped his head out of the oven, he took a step away to fully look at me. I pretended not to notice and kept scrubbing.

“I know I told you this earlier, but I really am sorry about the circumstances,” he said.

I slowed and eventually stopped my assault on the counter. “Thanks,” I muttered, suddenly feeling a tickle at the back of my throat.

No, don’t cry. Not in front of him. Not anymore.

He had seen me cry plenty of times growing up. I wasn’t a kid anymore.

He stood from the floor to wet his rag in the sink. He wrung it out, then turned to me and leaned on the counter. I was very aware of how close he was.

“So you – uh – have someone? Back in London?”

I felt the flush run up my neck. I tried to focus again on the counter. “Not really.”

Callum snorted. “Not really? So sort of?”

I sighed. “It’s over. Like, way, beyond over. It barely even started, so really there’s nothing to even be over. So, I guess, no – there’s no one.”

“Bummer for him,” he whispered.

I turned to him then with a cheeky grin. “Who’s to say it’s a ‘him’? Hm?”

Callum cocked an eyebrow and laughed. “Ouch. Am I to blame?”

I dropped the towel I was using. “Maybe. You need to work on your skills.”

“Skills? Like what?”

I pulled the rubber gloves off of my hands. “Like that smile. You’re far too kind looking with it on. Haven’t you heard? Girls like the bad boys.” I reached forward to his face, pulling the sides of his lips back in.

“Too kind, huh?” he said, still smiling regardless after I dropped my hand. He ripped his gloves off as well, and quickly put his arms around my waist, pulling me tightly to him. “How’s this for kind?”

I cocked my head to the side. “Better. Could still use some work. Less asking, more doing.”

I felt his hands slowly travel up from my waist, over my shoulders, up to my neck. One moved to cup the back of my head, the other just barely holding my jaw, fingers splayed wide behind my ear.

“Fine,” he whispered.

The distance between us closed quickly as his lips smashed down onto mine. I forgot how soft his were. I could smell the lemon cleaning supplies surrounding us as we kissed. I reached up to his wrist, gripping it tightly, telling him to continue. He twisted me, so he was pressing me up against the counter. Within a split second, his hands were wrapped around my thighs, thrusting me up onto the counter I had just cleaned. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. His kisses travelled down my cheek, to my jaw and neck.

“I’ve missed this,” he mumbled into the kiss.

I smiled in return, too breathless to respond. I was busy pressing my body as close as I could to his, wanting it to be closer, closer. Never close enough. Before I knew it, we were grabbing at our shirts, yanking them up over both of our heads. I took a second glancing down at his torso. The only thing that had changed was that he gained even more muscle than when I last saw him as an eighteen-year-old. I ran my hands down his pecs, feeling how firm they were. I think I even whispered out a “wow” because he let out a breathless laugh.

“Wow to you, too,” he said, eyes roving over every inch of my body. I never felt self-conscious around him. He always made me feel so comfortable; so okay to be me.

I smashed my lips down onto his once more, loving the way they felt on mine. I was grabbing his hair in my hand, willing for his lips to never leave mine again.

Why did we break up? I began to ask myself.

I became very aware, then, that we were in the kitchen. The kitchen my mother owned. I broke from his embrace and hopped off the counter. Nothing about this place felt comforting or sexy. I knew of only one place where I had found a few seconds of sanctuary in this house. I grabbed Callum’s hand and pounded up the stairs to my bedroom, where we continued to rip the remaining clothes off the other’s body.

---

“Well, that was fast,” I said, curling up into him on the bed after we each cleaned up a bit.

Callum lifted his head to peer down at me on his chest. “What do you mean?”

“Not that I was planning for this to happen, but I didn’t imagine it would happen within twenty minutes of you walking through the front door.”

I felt his chest heave as he let out a laugh. “Oh? You mean you didn’t invite me over for a booty call?”

“Hey!” I lightly hit him. “You invited yourself over, sir.”

“Fair enough.” He began running his fingers lightly through my hair. I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. I didn’t realize how much I missed this.

“I figured maybe a date or two, at least just to catch up, but not this… At least not this fast.”

He chuckled again. “Sorry to disappoint.”

I closed my eyes. The sun had long since set, so the only light in the room was from the nightstand’s lamp. “You never do.”

“I missed this,” he whispered after a few seconds of silence. I could fall asleep right this instant, I thought. His hands running softly through my hair made me forget the mess that is my life.

“Me too.”

“You need to come home more often.”

I hmm’d in happy agreement. “Or you could come to London.”

“I do have to meet that Pippa you talked about. She seems hot,” he said sarcastically with a laugh.

I faked a gasp and playfully slapped his chest again. “Ouch.”

He was still laughing when he said, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You know that.”

A sickening feeling fell in my stomach when I realized I had never asked him whether he had someone or not. He never seemed like the type that would cheat – it would eat him up on the inside, I knew – but it had been five years. People change. I know I certainly have.

“I take it you’re single then?” I lifted my head and rested my chin on his chest to look up at him. He didn’t miss a beat with his fingers in my hair. He didn’t say anything for a second and he kept his gaze away from me, which made me anxious. I was not about to be the other girl again.

“I am,” he finally said. “I had someone for a few years. We were pretty serious. Engaged, even.”

I leaned up, off of his chest, into a sitting position, letting the sheets fall away and exposing me again. His hand fell from my hair, too far away now.

“Engaged?”

“Relax – we broke up, like, a year and a half ago.”

I pulled the sheets around me, covering myself back up. “What happened?”

Callum shook his head and sighed. “Nothing dramatic, really. We just grew apart. Wanted different things. It was a mutual decision to break up.”

I remembered once, back before uni when we were dating, I thought he and I were endgame. I thought he would be my husband and me his wife, and we would live in Stratford-upon-Avon for the rest of our lives. I never thought the world would accept me outside of this small town. Now, look at us.

Callum took my silence for fear and said, “Hey, it’s alright. I’m over it. This wasn’t a… rebound, or whatever. You know I’ve cared for you, I still do.”

“Yeah – no, I know.” I shook my head. “It’s just… wow. Engaged.” I let out a breath.

Since he couldn’t reach my hair, his hand began drawing light, slow circles on my back. It prickled my skin.

“What about you?” he asked after a few minutes. “Who was the person you were involved with? I know you said it was nothing serious but…”

I curled my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them, turning to look at him. “Really, it was no one. We kissed a couple times, that’s it.” I wanted nothing more than to drop the subject. I looked away from him, hoping he’d catch the hint.

His hand paused on my back. “Obviously not ‘no one’ if he’s got you acting like this.”

I sighed. “Please, just drop it, Callum.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, taking away his warm hand from my spine. “No one else though? In all this time?”

I scoffed. “Why does it matter? Why do you want to know?”

“Whoa, sorry.”

I began to move towards the edge of the bed, looking for my clothes.

“Did – I mean, did I say something wrong? Carolina, talk to me.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s…” I jumped into my skinny jeans. “Look, I’ll see you tomorrow at the hospice, okay?”

Callum took a few seconds just looking at me, wanting to ask something but he never did. He eventually sighed and began pulling on his own clothes.

“I told you about Kirstie, I just figured you’d at least open up to me a bit,” he muttered under his breath.

Ignoring his comment, we both went back down the stairs into the kitchen to grab our shirts. We each stood awkwardly for a moment in the kitchen, not knowing what to say.

“Thank you for coming and, you know, helping clean this place a bit,” I said, even though we really didn’t get too much done.

“I can come by again tomorrow if you want? To help?”

Sweet Callum, I thought. Even when I was in a shit mood since he brought up Harry, he was still offering to help me.

“I’ll let you know,” I replied. I made my way to the front door and he followed behind.

When I opened the door, though, I almost screamed. There was a figure in the dark, on the other side.

“What the–” I stopped when I turned on the hallway light, illuminating the person’s face.

Fuck.

“Oh my God,” Callum gasped when he recognized him. “You’re… You’re…”

Prince fucking Harry.

Notes