Page 9 of His Stolen Queen
"Every time I see you, it's getting harder and harder to keep my feelings to myself. I don't want you to go before I tell you this."
"David"
"I love you, Alice."
I took a deep breath, my eyes dropping from his. A heavy silence fell, the bombshell of his words hanging between us.
There were moments when I suspected his feelings for me ran deeper than brotherly, but I purposely ignored the heated looks and the casual touches that lingered.
I was never 100 percent sure because he always seemed to have a girlfriend: some short-term and a couple of long-term girls. I dreaded the day he would tell me he was engaged to one of them. The ones I did meet were never nice to me, seeing me as a threat, no matter how friendly I tried to be. If push came to shove, I was sure David would drop his friendship with me if the girl he wanted to marry insisted upon it.
I had deep affection and love for David—friendlylove—but I was also a little possessive of him, fearing that I'd lose the only person who'd stayed by my side.
"Alice, I'minlove with you," he reiterated in case I misinterpreted. He whirled away in frustration. "I have been since we were kids."
"David…" I said weakly.
"I don't think I can do this anymore."
My stomach bottomed out at his words, and panic started to kick in. "What do you mean?"
He turned back to me, his eyes taking on a glassy sheen. "I've loved you for years, and you've never seen me as anything more than a friend. That's not on you. I should've told you how I felt years ago. But I can't just be a friend to you anymore. It's too much."
I could feel my breathing start to grow shallow, and my heart kicked into a fast rhythm. "David…you've never… I've never given you the impression that I wanted more."
"I know. But I'm thirty now. I want to settle down and start a family. I can't keep waiting around for you to see me."
He stepped forward, cupping my cheeks and rubbing the tears that fell from my eyes.
"I want to be with you when you come back. I want us to try. If you still feel nothing more than friendship, we can end it. But please give us a chance."
His eyes were begging me as he implored me to say yes. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he would still cut off our friendship if I agreed to try but still didn't feel the same way. I was too scared his answer would be yes.
"I'll…think about it."
The excitement I'd carried for my European adventure slowly dissipated after David's confession and ultimatum.
I visited amazing sites—the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the French Riviera, the Palace of Versailles, the Spanish Steps, the Colosseum, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and the Statue of David. I indulged in the regional cuisine, interacted with the locals, joined tourist groups, and even hired a car to take me deep into the vineyards of Tuscany.
But no matter how busy I kept myself, my anxiety became worse. David's words repeated in my head like a warning bell of doom. I felt a sense of dread as my vacation dwindled, knowing that he expected an answer when I returned. But more than that, knowing the repercussions that would occur if I didn't give him the answer he wanted to hear. It made my stomach twist in knots.
It didn't help that my dreams became worse. I took sleeping pills most days, but they didn't seem to work anymore. I wondered if it was my body clock still adjusting to the time zone changes.
Although that possibility seemed less likely, the longer I was in Europe. My dreams became so vivid and frequent; I would wake up and burst into tears of misery and tiredness.
When my vacation ended, and I was back in the States, I finally allowed myself to decompress David's words. Did I love David? Of course. Was I in love with him…?
Maybe the reason I felt adrift was because David was my home. He was my safe space.
I was thirty. I couldn't spend my whole life looking for the next thing. I couldn't spend my entire life running, chasing after something that I couldn't find. Something I wasn't sure even existed.
Could that something be a life with my best friend? Setting down roots with him and starting a family? How could I know if I didn't try?
I did find him attractive. He had those golden-boy good looks that made him popular at school and popular with women. He had a good, stable job. He was kind and funny; I'd never heard him say anything cruel to or about anyone. I got along well enough with his family; after all, I used to live with them.
In time, I could see myself falling for him.
So, with my heart in my throat, I headed over to David's. His face broke into a smile when he saw me, but I could also see a sliver of trepidation in his eyes.
