The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 3 - The Ring

Harry

Early December 2017

I carried the ring around with me for weeks. Waiting. Trying to figure out if this was what I really wanted to do. Because for me, there was no going back. I couldn't just marry for a couple of years and get a divorce if it wasn't working. It was much more complicated than that.

Do you love her? I kept asking myself, over and over.

I think so, was always the answer. But—

And that's where it always started to break down.

But I loved Chelsy too. And Cress. And I didn't marry either one of them.

Then the harder questions would follow.

Am I in love with Meg?

Am I as crazy about her as she is about me?

Do I love her enough to stay married to her for the rest of my life?

Will we still have something to talk about 10 years from now?

Will her cute little requests become demands and then nags until I can't stand her any more?

And my answer to these questions was always...I don't know.

And sometimes, if I'd had a drink or two and had the peace to be brutally honest with myself, the answer often was...NO.

And then I always said to myself — She's an actress! Is she playing a role with me? Has she decided that being a princess is the next role she wants and she's auditioning her ass off for it?

And really, who could I ask for advice? Some of my family thought Meg was the best one I'd caught so far and were hoping I was done playing around. My dad? Yeah, there was a paragon of how to marry the right one and have a happy lasting marriage. Nope.

I wished—every day I wished—that my mother was here to talk to. She, of anyone, would know the stakes and the pressure and be able to give me solid, honest advice.

It got to be such a burden, carrying the ring around, trying to make up my mind. And Meg was always there, even when she wasn't in London—calling, sending cute texts, and making me laugh. Convincing me that maybe it wasn't perfect but it was good enough.

So it wasn't even a romantic proposal. I could have planned out a special occasion for it, in some romantic spot, at twilight, with champagne and all that, but I didn't. Meg was standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner for me—to show me how much she cared for me I guess, because I could hire a cook if I wanted, or just go out. She had just pulled the chicken out of the oven and it smelled wonderful and homey and for some reason, I thought of being a kid at my mom's house, and how much I missed my mother, and I just started rambling about how nice it was when Meg was there, and this had all happened so fast, but maybe we should think about, you know, about, maybe getting hitched—and I stuck my hand in my pocket.

And then Meg squealed and jumped up and down and said, "Can I say yes now? Can I say yes now?" and hugged me with her chicken-flavored arms and then we kissed, and I said, "Oh, yeah, the ring, here it is."

And then it was done.

I was engaged.

And I still don't know if it was the right thing to do.

But it's done.