Sweet Home

  The title read:

  “Tide star QB’s girlfriend miscarries amidst Prince Oil money laundering scandal.”

  My chest felt like a sprung coil, and I lifted up, rubbing at my sternum, trying to ebb the aching strain.

  I couldn’t.

  The picture… the picture of me losing my baby…

  Pain devoured me from the inside out. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t take the reality of the image, of Romeo’s crushed expression as he held my hand.

  I heard a wicked laugh and Kathryn hovered over me. “That look on your face may have made it all worth it!” She closed in. “You’ve made a mockery of my family, you evil bitch. Leave. Leave Alabama and never come back. You’ve nothing left here. Rome won’t want you after this, after you tainted his reputation and destroyed his family’s business. If you stay, I’ll make sure I bring you down with me, so help me God! The Princes will be the laughing stock of all of Alabama because of you…”

  “That’s why you were pushing him to marry Shelly? You wanted her father’s money, needed the legal connection before he found out what you’d done.” It suddenly all made sense. Romeo was right to have been suspicious.

  “And that spawn of my husband’s tramp would’ve if he’d never met you! Now everyone knows. My husband’s been arrested. We’ve lost everything because of you! Everything!”

  “No, you’ve lost everything because of yourself!” I snapped.

  She lifted a hand in the air and rammed her fist into my stomach, causing me to shriek out in pain. My hand frantically felt along the side of the bed for the call button, but Mrs. Prince wrapped her hands around my throat, applying pressure as I desperately pressed the emergency button repeatedly. My neck burned and my vision turned blotchy when a nurse burst into the room.

  “Help me… please,” I croaked. The nurse bellowed down the corridor for security and she wrestled Kathryn from my bed, restraining her arms behind her back. I coughed and sputtered as the security guards carried her away, kicking and screaming in her drunken state.

  “I’ll ruin you if you stay, ruin you both! I’ve got nothing left lose!”

  My head fell in my hands. The enormity of the last few days almost suffocating me, unrelenting grief tearing me apart from the inside out.

  I couldn’t be here anymore. I needed to get away from all of the pain and sadness.

  “Honey, are you okay?”

  I peered up and a young, heavyset nurse was at my bed, her arm around my side.

  I nodded.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Honey, the police are on their way.”

  I tried to shift off the bed. “No, no! No more! I can’t—”

  The nurse’s strong arm held me close and she spoke in a soothing voice. “That woman assaulted you, Molly. You need to report what she did.”

  My body slumped against the nurse’s side. She was right and it would be the last thing I would do for Romeo. I’d help him by ensuring his reputation wouldn’t be run through the mud any more than I’d already caused. His parents were already going down; I’d help give them the final push. Romeo would finally be free.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  “Good girl. Would you like me to contact Romeo for you?”

  I faked a smile and shook my head. “No, please don’t. He’s at a charity function at the stadium, for the championship game, and I don’t want to tear him away. His team and supporters need him.”

  Squeezing my arm, she praised, “You’re good people, Miss Shakespeare, good people.”

  She left the room and after a while, the police arrived. I gave my statement—truthfully, all the nitty-gritty parts—and felt as though my soul was shattering all the way through.

  When the police left, I grabbed my phone from the side stand and hit call.

  “Molly, are you okay?”

  “Professor, have you left for the airport yet?”

  “I’m just in my car now. Why?”

  “Is my ticket still available?”

  “Why, yes… but, Molly, you’re not well.”

  “I’m fine. The doctor discharged me. Can you come and get me at the hospital?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now,” I snapped impatiently.

  There was a long pause and a disappointed sigh. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll be outside.” I hung up the phone, gritted my teeth, and ripped the IV from my hand. I reached for my clothes, flinching at a subtle pain in my stomach, dressed in my jeans and tee, and grabbed my packed bag. I walked out of the empty corridor and down to the front door just as Suzy pulled up, and I jumped in the front seat.

  She eyed me sceptically. “You’re running again, aren’t you, Molly?”

  “I can’t be here right now,” I said almost inaudibly.

  Suzy pulled out of the hospital car park and onto the road. “Romeo doesn’t know, does he?”

  “By the time he finds out, I’ll be forty thousand feet in the air. He’s better off without me here.”

  She swerved to me, disappointment clear on her face. “No, he isn’t, Molly! You can’t—”

  “I’m going, Professor! Please, I just can’t… I need to go!”

  She ran her wrinkled hand over her forehead. “You have your passport?”

  “In my bag. Luckily I needed it for my medical insurance.”

  “Then back to Oxford we go.”

  I laid my head back on the headrest and watched as the yellow fields of corn passed by in a blurry haze. Tears dripped from my eyes as I pictured Romeo’s face in my head. For a moment, I wavered in my decision, but when I remembered the images in the newspaper, all doubt slipped away.

  I had to leave.

  I had to run.

  25

  Oxford University, England

  “On behalf of Miss Shakespeare and myself, thank you for listening.” Professor Ross joined me at the side of the stage while the three hundred-strong crowd clapped in satisfied applause.

  We shook hands with the dean and I politely made my excuses from the suffocating lecture hall, rushing outside for some fresh air.

  I burst into the open quad and the winter chill slapped at my face, giving me the awakening jolt that I needed. I tipped my face to the sky, and large, delicate snowflakes kissed my cold skin. It made me feel alive… well, semi-alive.

  I was still numb.

  I slipped on my black leather gloves and surveyed the empty campus. Crisp white snow capped the tall, intricate spires and roofs of the ancient buildings, casting a Dickensian winter wonderland feel on the prestigious university. I loved Oxford in winter; it was one of the most beautiful places on Earth. It was my Mecca, my Holy Grail, or at least it used to be. Now I just felt like an imposter. A lost drifter, far, far away from her home.

  The majority of the students were away for the Christmas break and I’d spent Christmas day alone in my room with a large glass of wine, trying not to think about what it would have been like at Ally’s house in Birmingham, with Romeo… and our baby.

  When Suzy and I arrived in Oxford, we were told that our hosts had to delay our lecture for a week, which was fine by me. The archaeological team on campus had found the remains of what they thought could be an ancient royal tomb and initial focus was given to them so they could relay their findings to the press. I, for one, was glad. I needed the time to get my head straight.

  I missed Romeo. I missed him so much that at times I actually believed I was dying of a broken heart. A couple weeks had passed since we’d arrived in England, and I’d yet to check my phone or my emails. I loved him so much, but I just couldn’t go back. Everyone would know about my miscarriage and I just couldn’t face being that exposed, people knowing, pitying.

  With a calming breath, I set forth to the Radcliffe Camera—the most amazing library storing thousands of books in my specialist field. The pain left me when I studied. I thought less about Romeo when I studied. I could forget.

  The snow
crunched like crisping leaves under my heavy winter boots, and I wrapped my black padded coat tighter around my chest.

  I was almost at the door of the library when I heard, “Molly? Molly Shakespeare? Is that you?”

  I turned and was met with the shell-shocked face of Oliver Bartholomew.

  I inwardly cringed at the awkwardness of the surprise reunion. “Hey, Olly, long time no see.”

  His face broke into a huge grin as he walked towards me and gave me a quick, stiff hug. “Bloody hell, Molly, I almost didn’t recognise you. Where’s your glasses? Your hair… you look completely different… in a good way,” he stuttered nervously while roving my appearance with his bright sapphire-blue eyes.

  “Thanks. I wear contacts now and my friend from the States did my hair… and everything else.” I gestured down my body.

  “Well, she excelled herself. You look beautiful. But then, you’ve always been beautiful.”

  I dropped my head with a tight mouth. It only mattered to me when Romeo called me beautiful, when he meant it with all his heart. Floods of memories tried to rise to the surface. I held my breath and pushed them back down.

  “Would you like to grab a coffee?” Oliver broke my inner torture, startling me enough to refocus. I looked up at him and his face was so hopeful.

  Poor Oliver. The last time he saw me, he’d taken my virginity, and the next morning I was gone, never to return. He hadn’t deserved me treating him like that.

  “Molly? Coffee?”

  I glanced to the library and back to him. I wanted to say no.

  “Just a quick catch-up, I swear.” He nipped the sleeve of my coat in his fingers, head down. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Okay.” I relented. Oliver’s face broke into a wide smile and he fell into step beside me as we walked in companionable silence.

  Fifteen minutes later and we were sat in the window of the campus coffee house where Oliver ordered an English Breakfast tea for him and cappuccino for me.

  As I watched him, I realised that he really was a lovely guy. So kind and unpretentious. I never gave him credit for that in the short time that we dated. If it could even be called dating. He didn’t know me, but that was entirely my fault. I’d never let him in.

  Oliver sat before me, his Oxford Rowing Team scarf in a knot around his neck and a red cashmere sweater showing off his slim body and brown hair. “So, Molly, how are the States? Why are you back?”

  I fiddled with my coffee cup. “The States are… good… different. I continued assisting Professor Ross with the philosophy paper and we just had the lecture showcasing our argument.”

  His eyebrows practically lifted of his regal face. “And?”

  “It was very well received. It’ll be published next month in the Oxford Press philosophy journal I expect.”

  He beamed a toothy smile. “I’m so very proud of you. Published at twenty—perfect for a future professor. I always believed in you.”

  “Thank you.” I took a sip of my coffee and proceeded to try and make conversation. “Why are you still on campus? Shouldn’t you be at your country estate enjoying the Christmas festivities, rubbing shoulders with royalty?”

  He laughed. “I should be, but I’m part of the archaeological team that found the royal remains. Mother wasn’t best pleased. She thinks I’m wasting my life digging up old bones. It’s been so amazing though. I’m now halfway through my first year PhD and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

  I smiled at his super-posh English accent. I used to tease him for it, said he reminded me of Prince William, and by the playful narrowing of his eyes, he knew that’s what I was thinking about now.

  “So where are you going to study for your doctorate? Are you staying in the States or coming back here?” Excitement grew in his voice as he asked the last part.

  I shrugged, staring out the window, watching the odd student scurry by to get out of the falling snow. “I was thinking about the States, but… I don’t know now.”

  Oliver tilted his head in contemplation and swallowed disappointedly. “It’s not everything you expected?”

  “Expected? No. Life changing? Yes. I’m just not sure if it’s the life for me. It’s a whole lot different than living here, that’s for sure.”

  Silence joined us at the table. I could feel his stare as I fixed my eyes on my cup. It was time for an apology.

  “Oliver?”

  Oliver clasped his hands on the table edge, a slight shake to his fingers. “Yes.”

  I reached forward and laid a hand on top of his. “I owe you a long-overdue apology.”

  He turned his head to gaze out the window. “Why did you leave me like that? Was I that bad of a boyfriend to you… and after… what happened between us? What did I do so wrong?”

  A lump formed in my throat. “Nothing. You weren’t a bad boyfriend; you were lovely to me. I’m in the wrong here, Olly.”

  Facing me once again, he said, “You broke my heart when you left. I heard from a few of your classmates that you’d joined Professor Ross in Alabama and couldn’t believe my ears. You’d had it planned for months and never said you were moving abroad for your master’s. You just up and leave after being intimate with me—no reason or explanation? I thought it was very cruel.”

  “I was very cruel. And completely selfish. And you deserved so much more. I’m truly sorry for what I did to you, Olly.”

  Oliver’s lips parted as he inhaled. “Molly…”

  I held up my hand to stop him. “If you have the time now, I’d really like it if you could let me explain a bit about me, about my past. Maybe help you understand why I am how I am. I feel it’s about due.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, he smiled. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

  Over the next two hours, I finally shared my past, all of it, right up until my sudden departure after we’d made love.

  When I was done, Olly sat back, eyes wide, releasing a pent-up breath slowly through his lips. “Wow, Molly. I had no idea.”

  I gave him a tight smile, feeling better, lighter. Finally sharing something about myself had actually been therapeutic. “You deserved to know. I’m only sorry it’s taken me so long. It could have saved us a lot of sorrow.”

  Oliver placed his elbow on the table, letting his head rest in his upturned hand, just staring at me, reading something within my expression. “Who is he?”

  “Who is who?”

  “The guy you’re in love with.”

  “I don—”

  He reached out and gently took my hand. “Do you know how much I wished you would think of me and look like that? Need me that desperately?”

  “What?”

  He dropped his gaze. “I loved you, Molly Shakespeare, but you never loved me back. I tried to break into your heart, but I failed. I wanted you to share your problems, your past, but you wouldn’t let me in. You didn’t love me enough and well, that was okay. I wasn’t the man for you. I get that now.” He glanced up with compassion in his blue eyes. “Whoever he is, he must be special. It’s like you’re a whole different person, not the shy, introverted girl I once knew. You’re stronger… changed.”

  My head dropped to my hands and I began to cry. I heard Oliver move from his chair and sit beside me, wrapping me in his arms. It felt good to be held again, but I missed Romeo and his arms were bigger, more protective. Romeo’s chest was broader and although Oliver smelled nice, of some expensive aftershave, it wasn’t soap or mint.

  Oliver wasn’t my Romeo.

  “Shh, Molly. Don’t cry. Nothing’s so bad that it can’t be fixed.”

  I lifted my head. “It just went so wrong. We were put through too much and… and… I ran… again, just like I ran from you. I hate myself for leaving, but I just couldn’t stay.”

  “Shh… calm, Molly.”

  But I couldn’t calm down. I’d finally let myself feel and regret was flowing out of me with the strength of a geyser. “Something we both loved dearly was taken away, stolen, and
I just left him to deal with it on his own. He has the most important game of his life coming up and all I do is miss him, think of him, but I’ve majorly messed up. I left him when he needed me most. How can I go back after doing that?”

  Oliver shuffled back in his seat, his lips pursed in confusion. “What game?”

  “He plays American football.”

  “Oh, right. Is he any good?”

  I couldn’t help it, but I laughed. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”

  Oliver shook his head in astonishment. “Molly Shakespeare with an American football player? Well, I never saw that coming. It’s not polo or cricket, but I’m a big believer that all sportsmen are good men. Your man most probably is too.”

  I play-punched his slim arm. “He’s not just a football player. He’s the bravest, most caring person I’ve ever met. He understands me like no one before. He’s my soul mate—he’s my everything.”

  “Molly, a footballer’s girlfriend.” Oliver shook his head, smiling in disbelief.

  “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, Olly. The entire state worships the team, worships him. The stadium alone holds over a hundred thousand people. It’s crazy. Games are televised. They’re sponsored by international brands, and I ended up falling in love with the most revered player in the entire country.”

  Oliver took my hand gently and looked straight into my eyes. “Well, the question is, Molly, why the hell are you sitting in this bloody coffee shop with me instead of with your soul mate superstar in Alabama?”

  I stared back at him as his words rattled in my brain.

  Why the hell was I here?

  I jumped from the chair. “Olly…”

  “Go, Molly. I understand.” He stood, like a true English gent, and kissed both my cheeks. “You left me a hollow man when you left last year without a word, but I realise now that you were never mine to keep. Your new chap is lucky to have you.”

  “No, I’m the one who’s lucky to have Romeo.”

  “Romeo?”

  “Yeah, his name’s Romeo Prince.”

  Oliver rubbed his forehead and chuckled. “Well, Miss Molly Juliet Shakespeare—how very fateful. But you’d better get to your Romeo as soon as possible. If I remember rightly, he has a nasty habit of getting himself into lots of bother in your absence.”