Everything seems like it’s falling apart.

My world, my brand new world, has been shattered. As much as I hate it, I can’t see it any other way now. As much as I loathe the spotlight, attention and cameras… I can’t imagine a life without Ben, Victor… Chuck or Val; Garret or Bryant—or a life with them permanently hurt.

Although this situation has really put things into perspective for me, I still hate it. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it; appreciate them.

My eyes are red, puffy and hurting by the time we land in Vladesvya. My head is throbbing; my nose won’t stop running. The tissues I’ve gone through are sitting in a pile in my lap as I stare out the window at the tarmac below. It’s night here already; almost early morning actually. I’ve gotten no updates from Gabe, who has been on his phone the entire trip. Marc has just woken up from a nap beside me.

I can’t even produce more tears, or else I’d still be crying. Everything is suddenly going wrong.

What happens if Ben actually dies? Has he already and they just don’t want to tell me? I wonder as we get off the plane. Will they engage me to someone else in his family? Will I be free to live a normal life again? Probably not the latter.

As I’m ushered into the back of the SUV I see that Gabe won’t be driving. There’s another guard, with him in the passenger’s seat. Marc sits beside me. Our escort is huge. Three cars in front and three in back with two motorcycles on each side. I suppose they’re taking no chances, with everything that’s happening.

“Is he dead?” I ask, my voice sounding foreign to my ears. I sound emotionally empty. My mind is so focused on one thing that I can’t even process the world around me, let alone speak like a normal person.

Silence. It’s complete silence as we pull out of the airport. The streets are empty, due to the fact that it’s nearly midnight but the sidewalks are filled. People must have found out I was coming back.

I wish I had my phone. I wish I could go on Twitter or CNN and see what’s happening.

Then again, maybe I don’t want to.

Desperation pulls at my vocal chords as I beg, “Please just tell me.”

“No,” Gabe says from the passenger’s seat. “He is not.”

Hope and relief flood into me, only to be smothered by the notion that he’s still in critical condition. He could die any minute… and I wouldn’t be there.

I feel like bashing my head against a wall. The frustration builds as we speed towards the hospital, paparazzi trying to follow us as we go. That aggravates me even more. Can’t they imagine what I’m going through right now? A person I love just got shot and could die… and they want pictures?

It makes me sick to my stomach. All I want to do is cry more, but my stomach is queasy from all the heaving sobs they escaped me during the flight.

If he dies before I get there; if he’s in a coma or something…. I’ll never get to tell him I love him. He won’t hear me. I’ll have left him thinking that I don’t love him. That’s what’s making me like this. I can’t handle the thought of him dying, thinking that I don’t love him.

God, I’m so stupid! Why do I always have to screw things up? Someone amazing finally walks into my life and what do I do? Deny my feelings for them… like an asshole.

During the middle of my inner-rantings and chastising myself, I’m pulled from the car. I see the protection agents are just as touchy as always.

We enter from a secret door in the garage. As soon as we enter the white, clean hallway I know we’re in a hospital.

As we go deeper into the hospital more people appear; doctors, nurses, patients. Some stop to bow their heads as I rush past with the agents. Some just stop and stare.

“Are you going to tell me what I’m in for?” I ask Marc, who shields me from the stares of curious patients passing by.

He bites down on his lip before saying, “He’s been shot in the chest—lung to be more exact. As long as there’s no infection he should make it. The doctor will tell you more once we’re there.”

I know lung injuries. He probably has a punctured lung. I know that’s not life threatening as long as they treat it correctly… but a part of me doesn’t trust them with him. I’m desperate just to see his face and know he’s alive—but then again I don’t think I can handle seeing tubes down his throat and stuck into his arm; bandages on his body and his eyes closed.

We arrive in the ICU, with a young female doctor already waiting for us.

“Your Highness,” she tucks a foot behind the other and dips down quickly. She holds he hand out and I take it, but I don’t have the strength to shake.

She must understand my feelings, because she doesn’t jump right to the medical talk. She asks, “Would you like to see him? He’s been stabilized.”

All I can manage is a nod. So, she leads me down the hallway; to the very one at the end. It must be a presidential suite because when we step in it’s the size of three of the normal rooms, with plush chairs and a couch.

Then my eyes skip to the bed, a bit hesitantly.

I bit down on my lip to keep from crying when I see him lying there. Ben; my Ben; lively energetic Ben is laying there unconscious, with a tube down his throat and IVs in his arm. His face looks deathly pale. It’s unnatural to see him like this; helpless and weak.

The doctor leads me over. I feel Gabe’s hand on my back guiding me. A part of me doesn’t want to sit beside that bed and stare at him like this. The other part of me wants to stay here forever; or at least until he wakes up.

There’s only one thing on my mind: to tell him that I love him as soon as he’s able to hear me.

They pull up a chair for me and I sink down into it. They’ve lowered the bed, probably in order for me to be able to hold his hand. That’s exactly what I do. But it’s frightening; how cold and limp it is. The normally warm, strong hand that I know is now just a lifeless thing, lying there beside him. The strong grip that used to take me by the waist and swing me around in a hug is no longer there. It takes every ounce of courage in me to not cry more in front of all the agents and the doctor.

“When will he wake up?” Gabe asks; exactly what I wanted to say.

She clears her throat. “The lung will begin the natural healing process within forty-eight hours. Patients like this usually wake up a little before that mark. He’ll be on oxygen, but able to breathe on his own for the most part.”

My blank stare lands on his face; his beautiful face that now looks foreign to me. They talk, but I don’t listen. I can’t.

Then, a hand clasps onto my shoulder. My head snaps to my left and up.

Victor is standing there, with bloodshot eyes and a face just as pale as his son’s. He must have been crying. I know that kind of face anywhere, because it was me a few months ago for two weeks straight.

On instinct, and running on pure emotions, I stand up and wrap my arms around him. We’ve never even exchanged an ‘in-law’s kiss on the cheek, let alone a hug… but instead of going stiff he just wraps his arms around me, too.

Silence pierces through the space. I hear feet scuffling as I squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face in his dress shirt. I think everyone leaves, because it’s completely quiet as we stand there. I let out the cries that I held back in front of the doctor. In front of Ben and Victor I don’t have to be the strong, brave crown Princess. I can be weak, vulnerable Anna.

“Shhh, it’s okay Anna,” he insists, “It’s okay, he’s going to be fine,” his voice catches and I realize… that’s his son lying there. That’s his one and only child that almost died today. If I’m upset I can’t even imagine how distraught he must be.

I take a deep, long and shaky breath before releasing my arms from his torso and stepping back a half inch. I feel him grasp my upper arms.

“Anna, he is going to be fine.”

Fine. That depends on your definition of ‘fine’.

I sniffle and hiccup. “A-are you okay?” I feel bad for not even asking how he is.

He waves me off and guides me back into my chair, pulling up one beside me and sitting down also. He says in a quiet, uncharacteristic voice, “Yes, I am fine. Just a bit battered and bruised. My security agents may have blocked a bullet from hitting me but in return they gave me quite a few injuries.”

A nice kind of quiet falls over us. We sit there, staring up at him like he’s going to miraculously wake up now.

Then, he says something that makes my head hurt even more.

“I suppose it’s only right for you to know that… if something happens to him before you are married… you will instead be married to his cousin, the Duke of Genvichov, Leopold... I did not want to tell you because…” as his voice drifts off I look over at him, my brow creasing and my mouth dropping open.

“I don’t want anyone else,” I my voice catches. My eyes sting so hard that they begin to burn. “I won’t do it.”

As he stares back at me I can see the surprise in his expression. He must still think I hate this. I do, but not the part where Ben is involved. I don’t even hate Victor anymore.

Instead of telling me I will have to because it’s my duty to my country, he just sighs. He looks down at his hands, folded in between his legs. His elbows rest on his knees as he leans forward.

“I did not expect you to love my son. I did not even expect you to like me for god’s sake…” He mumbles, but I think he’s talking to me.

I bite down on my bottom lip, looking back at Ben. My hand is growing clammy from holding his for so long but I refuse to let go.

“Your son,” I state shakily. “Is wonderful and—and amazing and compassionate and thoughtful… and he’s treated me better than anyone that I’ve ever met.” A tear rolls down my cheek and I bite back a sob. “And he tells me I’m beautiful and perfect and tells me I’m the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him… and…” I choke out, “And I didn’t even tell him that I love him.”

He reaches over and places a warm hand on my shoulder. “He will wake up, Ann. I promise you, everything will be fine.”

“You can’t promise that,” I sniffle, squeezing Ben’s hand tighter for a moment. There’s still no reaction. I don’t know what I’m expecting… but I know it won’t happen—not yet.

He sighs again; a deep, heavy and burdened kind of sigh. It sounds like the kind that you hear in hospitals all the time, exchanged between family members and friends.

Once again a comfortable silence settles over us. My cell phone still hasn’t been returned. I want to call mom and dad; tell them I’m okay and what’s going on. But, Gabe probably already took care of that. I just want to hear their voices. Maybe that would calm me down.

Victor retreats to the couch for a nap. I glance at the clock. It’s already the early hours of the morning. My eyelids are dropping with exhaustion, and I know I have to get some sleep… but I just can’t.

Instead, I scoot closer to the bed and lay my head on the edge of the bed, next to his hand. Tucking an arm underneath my cheek, I turn and look up at him. From this viewpoint he still looks deathly pale and so fragile. I have to close my eyes; I can’t see him like that, under the harsh fluorescent night light above his bed.

With one more squeeze of his hand I let myself drift to sleep. I know that nightmares won’t come; not as long as he’s still here.

Hey hey heyyyyyy guys how’s it going? :) sorry for the delay on this but I just got back from vacationing in Rhode Island so I finally got the chance to make the book cover and all that stuff.

I personally am not satisfied with this chapter, but I hope it’ll hold you over until the next update. I wrote this a few weeks ago, but have been editing it ever since because let’s face it I’m never satisfied with my writing haha but anyways thanks for your patience <3

Thanks again sooooo much for reading and keep voting, it means so much to me!

The next upload will come after I get five comments on this chapter! (or more, hey 10 would be awesome too). Please don’t be shy I really love all my readers and would love to hear what you think!

Thank you once again & hope you enjoyed it. xx