“—however, for my purposes this is the more lasting. This is more important.”
“Have you always felt that way?”
“No,” he said, an honest answer slipping from his lips before he could stop it.
“When did it change?”
He froze, his blood turning to ice. “Some time ago.”
“Was there a specific event?”
He gritted his teeth, feeling like she’d skillfully led him into a corner. Either he answered with some measure of honesty, or he refused. Refusal, at this point, would only make things worse.
“There used to be three of us. Myself, Jasmine and Leila. Jasmine passed away some years ago,” he said, trying to block the images from his mind that always came when he thought of Jasmine. Trying to forget the yelling, the accusations... “Grief like that, loss like that...changes you. It makes you reevaluate.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For your loss.”
“It was a long time ago. But it changed things. For all of us.”
“Naturally. And anyway, in many ways your life is entirely different to the average person’s.”
“What do you mean?”
She brushed a strand of blond hair out of her face, and his gaze was caught by the elegant motion of her fingers. The action pulled his thoughts from the past, tugged him out of the mire of it before it could claim him completely.
She was all fine-boned sophistication, and yet there was more to her than that. Something deeper, something grittier and stronger. Were she only softness, were she only grace and poise, he would not be so captivated. It was the strength beneath it, the contrast, that held him in thrall.
“In my life I’ve only ever had to worry about myself for the most part. I mean, I certainly worry about what other people think of me, make no mistake. But only as it pertains to the way it affects me. You have to do things for other reasons. For bigger reasons. Your whole life is proof positive of the butterfly effect. When you make a small movement it really does affect millions. And I don’t think most of us can say that.”
“I don’t know. You’re a journalist. There is information you could bring the world that could easily affect millions. Or at least change the way they think about things.” He relished the chance to turn the spotlight back on her. To stop her from shining light on the dark places in his own life.
“That’s the ultimate goal. Although I never really thought of it in terms of what I did changing things for other people.”
“Did you not?”
“No, I thought about changing things for me. Because the minute I’m done making coffee and doing fluff pieces, I’m sure I’ll be able to see changes happening in my own life. Maybe being able to afford a nice new outfit for work. Not having to worry about paying my rent on time. Just being able to rest in the fact that I’ve made it.” She looked like she was about to say something else, her full lips twitching as though something uncomfortable was hovering over them.
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It is something, or you would not look so much like holding it back was threatening to make you burst.” He knew it, because he’d felt it only moments ago.
She shook her head. “I want to reach a point where I will be admitted into certain functions. And when I am, I will walk up to my father and I will hold out my hand and I will say, ‘My name is Sophie Parsons. I don’t have your name because I wasn’t good enough for you to give it to me. But I’m here now in the same room you are, and whether you like it or not, and whether you want to acknowledge it or not, I am your daughter.’” She blinked rapidly. “And I will tell him that I made it into that room on my own merit. Without his help. Without his name, which is something none of his other children did. I will tell him that the child that wasn’t good enough for him is the one who really made it the farthest.”
Her words hit him with the force of a punch. In them he could hear where her determination came from. In them he gathered her motivation. And he suddenly understood why she worked so hard to fit in, why she had worked so hard to bring herself up from her modest background.
And it made sense suddenly why she had spoken of her mother with such disdain. It sounded as though the woman had loved someone who had abandoned them entirely, a man who had had other children while refusing to acknowledge her.
It was nothing he could relate to. His place in life had been assured from birth. His blood had assured him entry. His family name a given. A name that stretched back hundreds of years, that brought him reputation, that brought him admiration.
It had been a reputation he hadn’t been deserving of for a great many years, one he was striving to deserve now.
And in contrast, the woman across from him had been given nothing in terms of name and reputation. The woman sitting across from him had had to make her own way entirely. If he’d had to do that he would’ve never been able to transcend the mistakes of his past. But as it was, he had been forgiven. Simply a rebellious wayward royal who’d had too much power, and too much money. A young man who had been far too handsome for his own good, and who had only taken advantage of all that had been naturally afforded him as a result.
He’d had none of her disadvantages, and he’d abused every advantage he had been given.
He felt like saying something to her, and yet he felt advice from him was empty. Still, she had shared with him, and he owed something.
“They say the best revenge is living well,” he said. “And I feel you are doing that already.”
“You can’t deny the fact that I’m staying with royalty. Although not so much right now.”
“Jamal is royalty in his own right.”
“True.”
“But in all sincerity, I think your father was a fool. I think he was a fool to deny a daughter such as you.”
“Are you complimenting me?” She blinked owlishly.
“Do not seem so surprised. I have admiration for your determination and your mind, even if I cannot leave you entirely to your own devices. I was born with privilege. I was born belonging to my family. And I squandered it. I did not deserve it. It was something I took for granted. I would not be surprised if your other siblings have done the same. Someone like you, a daughter like you, should be appreciated. He did not, and so I think he is a fool.”
“How is it that you abused what you were given?” she asked, her voice muted. Her question sounded much more genuine than questions from her did typically. Much more personal, and much less like she was asking as a reporter.
“That I think we will save for tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. And we still didn’t get to my scandal.”
“We’re getting there.” His stomach sank as he said the words, as he realized the truth in them. They were getting to the scandal, and he was starting to realize what he would have
