“He’s barking,” Nick said. “Should we tell him, and put him out of his misery?”

“No way,” I said. “His misery is way too entertaining.”

The baby grabbed Nick’s finger. “Yeow,” he said theatrically, tickling her nose. “First you rip out your feeding tube, and now you’re trying to pull off my finger. What two-kilogram baby can do that?”

“A fighter, that’s who,” I said. “In a spiritual sense, but mixed martial arts would be an interesting twist.”

Nick laughed. “I’m not sure that’s in the cards.”

“Maybe not,” I said. Nobody was around us—they’d put us in a private area—but I still lowered my voice. “We should probably talk about what is in the cards, though.”

He knew what I meant. His eyes scanned the area.

“The fantasy of leaving is so, so alluring,” he said quietly. “But now I’m not so sure I can do it.”

“I wondered if you’d land there,” I said. “It would be…such a shitshow.”

“It’s not even that,” Nick said. “I mean, it is that. But it’s so many other things, too. I keep thinking of my grandfather. He said in his letter that running off wouldn’t actually let him and Georgina escape anything. That the scandal would always chase their family. We’re in a similar position, and now that I’m seeing these two in front of me, flesh and blood, I don’t know if I can do it to them. Is that crazy? If I have the choice that I have always wanted, is it madness not to take it?”

“Deciding to stay is a choice, Nick,” I pointed out.

“But not my choice alone,” he said. “What do you want to do?”

I leaned back in my padded rocking chair. Nick had painted such a nice picture of what our alternate future might be. A simpler life, with simpler jobs, and simpler choices. Years ago, I told him I fell in love with a person, not a prince. But they don’t exist separately. They will always be one and the same.

“No holds barred?” I asked him.

“None.”

“There is no clean exit for us,” I said. “It might be different if there were. But something will always be chasing us.”

Nick gazed pensively at the daughter in his arms. “Gran said that when she first held Father, he seemed so pure, and all she wanted was to raise him strong enough to face his destiny. All I can do is make my best guess at which path is right for them, and ultimately, being infamous won’t be any easier for them than being famous. It could be rather worse.”

He gestured with his chin in my direction. “And imagine the teenage rebellion when she finds out she could’ve been the bloody queen,” he joked. “I’d better double down on this now.”

“Like a vow renewal, of sorts,” I said.

“If I’ve learnt anything from all the Real Housewives, it is that renewing one’s vows is a death knell for any relationship.”