Her Life with the Prince (Completed)

XXVII

XXVII

"Shirley, you're here."

I heard him, but my brain did not process whatever my ears caught. It was still Shelton's words that covered my thoughts, like a poison creeping through my veins and anytime, it would kill me. I knew, a lot of people told how I looked like Princess Emily. However, every time there was someone saying it to me, I felt there was something wrong with it. There was trouble.

Seriously? I was paranoid. It was nothing if we shared same features or whatever, I should believe that it was nothing, but my senses said different. As if it was related why I was here in England or why Prince Alexander treated me like that.

"Shirley, are you all right?" I looked at Princess Victoria whose forehead was wrinkled.

I nodded and looked over my shoulder to see the man behind me. I greeted him, "Paulo," I tried to smile, "What are you doing here?"

He silently laughed and brought his camera up, "This is the wedding I told you the last time."

"Oh," I paused, remembering the last time, "Yeah, the wedding you have been invited by Caleb."

He hesitated at first, but he still asked, "Is it okay if we talk somewhere?"

"Uh," was all I could respond because the villain interrupted, in other words, answered for me.

"No, it isn't okay," he smirked when I transferred my attention to him, "You have already forgotten what I have told you, about that talking." He emphasized the last words, as though it was the dirtiest thing.

I did not know if he was speaking to me, or to Paulo. But, his eyes never left me. The idea of me talking Paulo was not in his vocabulary. Nevertheless, if he was not talking to me, when did he say that to Paulo, anyway?

Once the silence conquered our table, Prince Alexander spoke again, "Please excuse us," he held my arm, "We will give respect to the newly wed." That was the time he faced Paulo, "Who knows, we might marry next," he whispered.

He tugged me, and I had no choice but to stand and follow him. I stared at Paulo for a moment, as if sending him a message of apology. He did not give me at least a glance. His face was dark, and I knew how upset he was.

When we were out of earshot, I brushed his hand off. He narrowed his eyes, "What now?"

"What now?" I mimicked his question in a more exaggerated way, "Don't throw your tantrums in your best friend's wedding. So, please, I'll return to our table."

"Stop," I did what I had been told, "You're mine, Shirley. That wolf will never take you back again."

I wanted to slap him in front of these hundreds, or maybe thousands of people, but I kept my cool in level. "No one owns me. Okay?"

He reached out my hand, and when he locked his fingers in mine, he squeezed it immediately. I stared at him, to see the remorse fighting on his face. "I'm sorry, I know, I'm a jerk. But, please, I don't want that Paulo getting near to you."

"Why?" I stepped closer to him, with a distance that would able us to whisper, "Are you afraid?"

His breathing was as deep as a well when he heard my question. He looked at me directly in the eyes, as if he was looking straight into my soul. "What if I am," he paused and avoided my gazes, "It's not the time to talk about it, Shirley."

"Okay," I agreed, I thought I did not care what he would say. However, I was wrong because I was not ready to hear his answer. I was not ready to hurt his feelings again because I had no answer if he ever confessed his feelings to me for the third time. He needed an answer and everything was complicated.