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Throne Away Page 11


  She did a horrible job hiding the sadness in her eyes—or maybe she didn’t even try. “I understand what you’re saying, but I still have a hard time letting go of this fairy tale. I know you’ve only been with her for less than a week, and even then, your time together has been limited. But from what you’ve told me, and after seeing you with her tonight, I find it very difficult to accept that this will be over soon.”

  “You and me both.”

  She huffed and settled further into the recliner. “I mean it, Ryan.”

  “So do I, Mandy.” If I had to talk about this much longer, I’d lose my mind.

  After a long pause, she turned her attention to me and offered a weak smile. “Well, I better call home and check in with the hubby before going to bed. Sleep well. Don’t stay up too late reading.”

  I watched Mandy walk into her room and close the door behind her. Then I glanced down at the paperback on the coffee table. I stared at it for what seemed like a hundred years, almost too afraid to open it. There had to be a reason Moira would give me a book titled, Heartbreak: Then, Now, and What’s to Come. It was possible that Mandy was right, that she’d given it to me to help me get over Carly’s betrayal, but I didn’t think that was it.

  Many minutes later, I picked it up and opened it to the first page. There was an inscription on in the inside of the cover: My dearest Moira, may this help you open your eyes so that you will learn to open your heart again. It was interesting, though it didn’t give me any more insight into the reason she wanted me to read it.

  Even though it wasn’t very long, it took me until two in the morning to finish it. However, I was no closer to understanding the importance of it—although, I had to admit that I did learn a few things. It was an interesting read, so I assumed that was why she’d given it to me.

  Then I found a folded piece of paper stuck between the last two pages—the backmatter that no one ever read. At first, I wondered if it was a letter to Moira from her mother, but as soon as I unfolded the paper, I realized it was from Moira to me.

  Ryan,

  I hope this book has helped you, even in the smallest of ways. My mother had gifted it to me after my first heartbreak. When I was fourteen, I had fallen for a young lad at boarding school. My parents liked him, and for a year, I thought we would spend our whole lives together. But then he broke my heart, and I was convinced that things would never get better. My mother had hoped that this book would help me get past the pain. What she didn’t predict was the meaning this book would have on me after these last few days with you.

  In your letter to me, you mentioned wanting to understand why we have appeared in each other’s lives so many times. I would love to know why, too. And I think after going back through the pages of this book, I might have a better understanding. My hope is that you see it as well. If not, let me break it down for you.

  At the beginning, the author talks about the importance of loving more than one person in your lifetime. It is explained that most will experience three great loves, and then she goes through the purpose of each love. What I took away from this when I read it the first time was that a broken heart was essential in life, and that no one is invincible from being hurt. There is growth in pain, and you will be better for having gone through it. But after reading through it again today, I have taken away so much more than that.

  When my mother had given me this book, I’d only been heartbroken once. I used the words the author had written to help heal that pain, and then I never thought about the lessons on the pages again. Until your letter. It reminded me of the part about the third love, and how it will keep showing up in your life, regardless of how long it takes you to notice.

  You wanted to know why we have crossed paths so many times. I believe that answers your question. Maybe I am wrong…especially because I’m unfamiliar with your love life aside from what you have told me about your wife. But for me, I have been in love twice in my life. There was my first boyfriend, and then, when I was eighteen, I had fallen for a commoner on the island. Just as the author described in the book, that relationship was hard. It also taught me so much about myself—about who I was, what I wanted, and how I needed to be loved.

  The third love comes out of nowhere. You can’t possibly plan for it, nor are you immune to it. It will knock on your door until you answer. I don’t presume to know your feelings for me, just as I don’t quite understand mine for you. I can’t use the L word with any definitiveness. But what I do know, is that she explains this love to be like puzzle pieces from two different puzzles that come together and fit perfectly. She says it knocks us off our feet. There are no expectations or pressure to act or be anything other than ourselves, because there is no need to be. This person will accept you for who you are.

  Two months ago, I was alone on a pier in a different country, grieving the loss of my brother. And at the very moment I needed someone the most, you were there. You literally came out of nowhere. We might have only spent ten or fifteen minutes together, but the contentment you offered lasted so much longer than that.

  Then, weeks later, you showed up here. At the exact moment I needed someone. I didn’t plan for that, and neither did you (or so you say hehe). At that time, we didn’t know that I had saved you from drowning in the pool when we were much younger, or about the kiss we shared six years ago. And as each day has passed since you popped up in my life again, I feel even more confident that this has all been for a reason.

  The one thing about us that doesn’t seem to fit her narrative is how easy the third love is. While I find it incredibly easy to be around you, I think you can agree with me when I say that our situation is anything but easy. If anything, I would call it impossible.

  Maybe you are right about our destinies being planned but it’s up to us to get there. If that’s the case, then perhaps all the other signs are right, too. But what if the story of the Fates is true? That is where I’m struggling with this entire thing. This book is almost enough to convince me of why we have met so many times, yet the story of the Fates is also enough to make me abandon all hope of living my best life.

  Anyway, I’m not sure if this has helped, or if it only made things worse. I hope we will get the next two days to explore it all, and perhaps have a clearer understanding of it by the time you return home. Regardless of the outcome, I am happy that we have been able to spend time together. Thank you for tracking me down on the beach so you could explain everything to me. I don’t even want to think about how this might have gone had I not learned the truth about you.

  Speak soon, Ryan.

  xo Moira.

  At the very bottom of the page, she’d written a long number. I didn’t have a clue what it meant until I read what she put after it: this is my private number, only a handful of people have it. Feel free to contact me whenever you want, even after you have gone home. I only ask that you don’t let anyone else get ahold of this number, as it could be a breach of my security. Thanks.

  My fingers itched to message her, but after checking the time, I knew there was no way she’d still be awake. Hell, I’d be asleep right now if I hadn’t stayed up to finish her book. And now, all I wanted to do was sleep so I could wake up in the morning and text her. I needed to see her. I needed to talk about the meaning of the book, but more importantly, I wanted to discuss the meaning of her letter, and what it meant for us.

  I checked my phone to see if Joey had responded. He hadn’t. In fact, he hadn’t even read my message yet. That was just one more thing I had to wait until tomorrow to understand. I only had two days left on the island; I didn’t have enough time to sit around and wait.

  Except, it was after two o’clock in the morning.

  I had no choice but to wait. Luckily, I didn’t have to sit around, though.

  I could sleep. And that’s exactly what I did.

  Even though I’d gone to sleep so late, I was the first one up in the morning. And as soon as my eyes popped open, I thought about reaching out to Moira.<
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  I grabbed my phone and Moira’s letter off the coffee table, ready to text her. But when I unlocked the screen, I noticed I had a message from Joey. Suddenly, that took precedence over everything else.

  In my message to him, I’d asked if he remembered the foreign kid who had come to town when we were younger. It was a rather broad question, so I narrowed it down by reminding him of certain things, such as the fancy hotel he had stayed at, as well as Joey’s dad knowing who they were—from what I recalled, their dads had attended college together in England. Joey had spent the entire time with him, but when I was around, I’d tagged along, too.

  To my surprise, he knew exactly who I was talking about.

  Joseph Miller: Hey, Ry-Guy! Long time no see! We have to make plans to get together soon. It’ll be like the good ol’ days. Anyway, to answer your question…yes, I remember him. Daniel Coldwell, I believe. It’s strange that you’re asking about him because my dad just told me that he died a couple of months ago. He didn’t know how, but since he was only a year older than us, I can only assume it was sudden and probably tragic. It’s pretty sad, really, especially considering my brother was only like six months older than him. Why do you ask?

  I sat there for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keypad. Except, I couldn’t type a single word. My thoughts were all over the place, which made it impossible to form a response. There were so many things going through my mind that I found it challenging to focus on only one.

  First of all, there was the reality that I had, in fact, met Moira’s brother before. As if randomly running into her four separate times in my life wasn’t enough. Again, it made me question how many other times our paths had crossed that we weren’t even aware of.

  I’d always heard the saying “it’s a small world,” but damn, this was on a whole other level. There had to have been more to our connection than it being a small world or mere coincidence. I had no idea what lay ahead of us, but I had to believe that there was a tangible tether that tied Moira and me together.

  No matter how long I sat and stared at Joey’s message, I was unable to form a response. So I made a mental note to write one later and then typed Moira’s number into my text app. Before I addressed what I’d learned about her brother, I needed to see her. I had to discuss the book and her letter. Time was running out, so I had to seize every available opportunity that I had.

  Me: Hey, Moira, it’s Ryan. I’m sure you have things scheduled for today, but I was wondering if you had time to meet with me. I read your book (and your letter) and I really wanted to talk to you about it. Anyway, let me know. I look forward to hearing from you. xx

  I stared at my message, waiting for her to read it until the backlight dimmed. To my disappointment, the screen locked before the checkmark appeared. And as much as I wanted to open the app every few minutes, I’d decided to let it go until I heard from her.

  Not obsessing over my message wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. Maybe that’s because it’d taken her three hours to respond. But I couldn’t complain, because at least she texted me back—and it was good news.

  Moira: Hey Ryan! I’m free for a few hours today. If you’re able to get together, that’d be great. Unfortunately, I think it’ll be too difficult to meet up in public, as it seems everyone has their eye on me. I think my parents might’ve finally caught on to us. Oops! Oh well, if you have time, I’d love to see you again.

  I replied right away to let her know that my schedule was free. And honestly, it was. I knew she worried that our time together would take me away from Amara, but so far, it hadn’t. Not only had she included my daughter a couple of times, but on the other days, I’d been able to split my time between both of my girls.

  My girls. I couldn’t let myself think that way.

  Moira wasn’t my girl, no matter how badly I wished she was.

  Needless to say, we’d made plans to meet at the chateau, so I made sure I was near the foyer at the time she said she’d be there. Every time someone came through the front doors, my heart skipped a beat. And every time I realized it wasn’t Moira, disappointment filled my chest.

  I’d been waiting for about ten minutes when a woman with bright red hair came in and headed straight for the front desk. I’d started to wonder if something had happened that kept her from getting here. After all, she had said that they were monitoring her pretty closely. So I checked my phone, just in case I had missed a message from her.

  Sadly, there wasn’t one.

  But as I glanced up, the woman with the bright red hair was walking in my direction. She had on large sunglasses that practically covered half her face, as well as dark-red lipstick. It was all a stark contrast to the pair of worn jeans and faded T-shirt that hung off one shoulder. Although, with the red patent leather heels, she looked like she had walked straight off a runway.

  Looking straight at me—or, should I say, in my direction—she nodded her head toward the elevators. I glanced behind me, wondering if she was motioning for someone else, but I didn’t see anyone. When I returned my attention to her, she smiled.

  And my heart stopped.

  There was only one woman with that show-stopping smile, and it was Moira.

  Not fully understanding the situation, but assuming what I could, I followed her to the elevators. Once we were safely inside, alone, with the doors closed, she swiped a keycard on the number pad and pressed the PH button.

  “Penthouse?”

  Moira waved the card between her fingers and smiled. Sliding the oversized sunglasses off her face, she said, “I am sick and tired of being watched or followed when we are together. I would like to spend time with you without the worry of what we do being reported back to my parents.”

  “Does anyone know you’re here?”

  “Libby does, but other than her, no. Oh, and the receptionist who gave me the keycard, but she won’t tell. She’s worked here for years, so she wouldn’t want to jeopardize her job by turning me in. Plus, I will only be here for a couple of hours; I have dinner plans with the councilmen tonight.” She rolled her eyes at her last statement, making it known exactly what she thought of those plans.

  I regarded her for a moment, almost in awe. Even without the sunglasses, she was hard to spot. Well, the red wig made her easy to spot but not recognize. “That’s quite the disguise, Moira. I had no idea it was you until you smiled.”

  “I will admit, Libby did a fantastic job.”

  The bell rang, the doors opened, and I about swallowed my tongue at the familiarity that stood before me.

  “I know the penthouse is probably not the best place to be alone,” she said as she pulled her wig off and set it on a barstool. “But we don’t have too many options around here. It’s not like we can sit in a coffee shop and talk freely.”

  I moved to the far side of the living room and stood in front of the windows that took up the entire wall. We were high enough to see over the trees to the beach, and as I watched the waves roll in, I got lost in my thoughts.

  “Did you hear me?” she asked, coming to stand next to me.

  I turned to her and laughed at myself. “I’m sorry, I must’ve gotten stuck in my head for a minute there. What did you say?”

  “It’s okay, I know how easy it is to get lost in this view. The ocean and sand are literally the only things I like about this island.” She held my stare for a moment and then added, “What I said was…if we get hungry, I can always call down to reception and have Georgina bring us up something to eat.”

  I nodded, even though I still wasn’t entirely sure what she had said. Her eyes were too mesmerizing to pay attention to anything else when I looked into them. She’d said—on several occasions—that my eye color reminded her of the water that surrounded Ilunabarra. Maybe where the sea was deeper, but it was her eye color that surrounded the shoreline. Clear. Brilliant. So light that when she looked to the side, it was as if they had no color at all.

  “If you need to use the toilet, it’s—”

/>   “At the end of the hallway,” I said, finishing her sentence while blindly pointing over my shoulder. I watched as bewilderment settled into her face—her brow creasing, gaze narrowing, top lip curling the slightest bit. “This is where I stayed when I was a kid.”

  I assumed that would’ve cleared up her confusion, but if anything, it made it worse.

  She took a step back, like she was too close to see me properly. “Here? In this room? In the penthouse?”

  “Yeah, I told you that my buddy’s dad knew someone here, so we got hooked up with this suite. Joey and I stayed in the back room, his brother stayed in the front room, and Joey’s parents stayed in that room…obviously.” I pointed to the closed door just beyond the kitchen area.

  She slowly turned on her heel, taking in the entire space as if this was her first time here. Then she faced me again, deep conflict lining her brow and darkening her eyes. “I knew you stayed at the chateau, but I had no idea it was in my suite—well, it was my parents’ suite at the time. They didn’t let just anyone stay here.”

  I swallowed hard, knowing that I didn’t have any other choice but to tell her what I knew. “From what I remember, Joey’s dad and your dad went to college together.”

  “That’s impossible.” She slowly shook her head, refusing to accept what I was telling her. “Where did he attend university?”

  “Oxford.”

  Moira shook her head more adamantly this time. “That can’t be.”

  “Listen…” I put my hand on her shoulder, hoping it would help her calm down. The last thing I wanted to do was upset her. “I don’t know how all the pieces fit together, I just remember Joey telling me that his grandparents were from England, and that’s where his dad went to college. I only know that because his dad had Oxford stuff all over his home office.”

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the window again, this time, staring blindly into the distance. I wasn’t sure what she was having a hard time accepting, and to be honest, part of me was a bit scared to ask. All I knew was that it was a hard pill for me to swallow, but only because it started to feel like the coincidences wouldn’t stop piling up.