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As gently as she can, Ella says, “I know you can cope. But I just don’t think this is the best idea you’ve ever had, that’s all.”
I don’t want to argue, so I drop the subject with a huff and force myself to eat instead. Fortunately, Ella either gets the hint, or my distraction works enough to get her to talk about something else instead. I don’t mind her fussing over me and the baby, but I wish she would stop trying to bring Jensen into it too.
God knows I’ve been worrying about what I’ll tell this child about their father when they grow up, and he or she is not even born yet.
But even though I try to push my doubts and fears aside, I’m still thinking about it all even after Ella has said her goodbyes and left me for the evening. Normally I like my own company a lot, but right now I don’t like the way it gives me time to think.
And the fact is, the idea of doing this all alone is terrifying. I’m not really sure that I can do it. But what choice do I have?
I know I’ve got Ella, but she has her own life too. She can’t be here for every diaper and sleepless night. She doesn’t have that kind of time.
It’s times like this that I regret having such a small network. My work means I travel too much for maintaining friendships, and I’ve never truly understood the downside of that until now.
There’s only one other person in the city with a phone number I still know, and I don’t think she would be willing to help.
Maybe she would, though. Maybe she’s been waiting for me to make the first move. Maybe this is the kind of push we need to bring us back together.
It’s not like I have many other options.
Before I can second-guess myself or really think about what I’m doing, I pick up my phone and dial the number.
I’ve been saying to myself for years how I’d love to be closer to her. Maybe it’s time to put my money where my mouth is.
She picks up after two rings, to my surprise, and says, “Billie? Is that you?”
I smile shakily, letting out a breath of something that’s approaching relief.
“Hi, Mom.”
CHAPTER 25
JENSEN
ONE MONTH LATER
I’ve only just laid down on my bed when there’s a knock on my door.
“What is it?” I groan.
I’ve literally just got back from a trip to Canada, and I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years. No such luck for me, though.
One of the servants opens the door, dipping his head in reverence or possibly embarrassment to be bothering me. “Your Highness,” he mumbles. “May I enter?”
It’s Kristian, one of the newer boys. He’s shy and a bit unsure, but very friendly.
He inches forward a fraction so he can just about be considered in the room, then announces, “I have a message from the king and queen, sir. They’ve requested your presence in the drawing room.”
“Oh,” I grimace. This can’t be good. “What have I done now?”
“I’m afraid it’s not for me to tell, sir.” Kristian stares at the floor so hard I worry his eyeballs will pop out.
I grin at him, hoping it’ll make him relax. “I’m kidding. It’s not your fault, whatever it is. It’s probably mine. It usually is.”
He smiles thinly, clearly not quite knowing what to say next. I wonder if he’s deciding if he should join in with the joking around, or if that would be considered unprofessional and only get him into trouble.
I decide to put him out of his misery. “Tell them I’ll be down in a minute, please.”
“As you wish, sir.”