I walk over to his desk and take a seat in one of the chairs angled in front of it. My mother follows.

I take a deep breath. “Jace quit football.”

“Really? I hadn’t heard,” my father says cheekily.

“Robert,” my mother admonishes. “Now is not the time for jokes.” She’s hardly one to talk, considering how she reacted to my pregnancy announcement, but I don’t bother to bring that up now.

“He says he wants to give everything up. Get married.”

My father’s face turns serious. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I’m scared. Scared to let him. Scared to let myself believe it could actually happen.”

“Vivvi, this is your decision. Whatever you do, I’ll support you. But for what it’s worth, you’ve always been an excellent judge of character. I had my doubts, when you first told us about a relationship with an American football player, I’m not going to lie. But I shouldn’t have.”

I smile, recognizing the approval of Jace hidden in his words.

“Mother?” I ask, looking to her.

She smiles at me with a touch of sadness. “You know how I feel about Charles, but I’m not sure if he would fly ten hours to hold you in the gardens for twenty minutes. That should tell you everything you need to know. But you don’t need us to make your choices for you. You never have.”

I raise my eyebrows at her admission.

She looks sheepish. “I was worried about what was taking so long.”

I laugh. “Okay, I’ll need to speak to Charles.” I sober. I’m not looking forward to that conversation. “And then I’m going to need the plane.”

My father smiles. “Go get him, Vivvi.”

I pack in a flurry. Jeans, dresses, and jackets are tossed in a pile, only to be carefully folded and packed by a group of maids. Once I’m certain I have everything I might need for Nebraska or South Carolina, I instruct them to zip the bags up and load them in the car.

I take a final glance around my room. I’ve changed into jeans and one of the sweaters I wore in Nebraska. I’m wearing Jace’s t-shirt underneath. It’s silly, but it makes me feel closer to him.

When I arrive downstairs, my bags have already been loaded inside one of the SUVs. My security team stands next to the car.

“Let’s go,” I instruct them.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Thomas is the one who replies and climbs in the back seat next to me. Michael climbs into the passenger seat, and we’re moving.

“I need to stop at the Vanderbilts’ first.”

“Understood, Your Highness,” the driver replies.

It doesn’t take long for us to arrive at the Vanderbilts’ manor. I tap my fingers against my thigh anxiously as I wait for the gate to their mansion to open. Finally, it does, and our small procession of cars starts up the driveway. I climb out as soon as the car comes to a stop. Michael and Thomas flank me as I walk up to the front door.