As I moved toward the door, Edgar said, “Carter,” but I waved him off: “No, please, you’ve been—I can’t even say how wonderful you’ve been, and you were so sweet to my family, and this is how I repaid you. So please don’t be nice. Goodbye.”

I left as fast as I could, and when I was at least five blocks away and out of breath, I leaned against the wall of an apartment building facing a small park. I hadn’t let myself deconstruct the situation or have a breakdown or call anyone, not yet. But of course I’d known this would happen. I’d met an incredible guy and I’d fucked it up. I almost thought “royally,” but stopped myself, because maybe someday, a few centuries from now, I’d be able to make jokes about my totally unlikely whirlwind royal tryst and how I’d sledgehammered it into oblivion, but not right now.

All I could think was I want to die or vanish or rewind my life since birth and change everything so I’d never know this degree of heartache. But my mom always told me to learn from my mistakes, “especially shredded jeans,” so I told myself, there it is, absolute confirmation, the verdict is in without the slightest chance of appeal: I was never meant to fall in love. I was alone, again, like I should be. I was Carter You Fucking Idiot Ogden, and now a little girl, standing with her nanny, was staring at me as I crouched down, trying not to cry.

The girl asked the nanny, “What’s wrong with that man?”

“Oh, honey,” I muttered, as I stood up and started walking, “don’t get me started.”

CHAPTER 15

And he didn’t try to stop you?” asked Adam, once I’d returned to the apartment. “I mean, shouldn’t he have chased after you on the street and taken you in his arms and renounced the throne in the name of love?”

“But that wouldn’t be productive,” countered Louise, “because then he’d just be another useless unemployed pretty boy hanging around our kitchen and eating our food. He’d be Callum.”