Chapter 11

11

ISAAC

I'm already over the drama of this day, and it's barely ten in the morning. At least I was able to convince Zye to stay with Miles and Simon. Realizing the wedding video reached Lutiana sobered him. He's had enough of the press.

Christy leads them in, glaring at Jane and then the man with her. His concern is understandable. Thank goodness Lanie is upstairs.

The reporter, Weiss, stops at our table and gives a small bow. "Your Highness."

Adrian nods. "Mr. Weiss." He waves at the seats opposite us. Jane's eyes are huge as she stares at Adrian. She's probably counting his possible worth in her head and wondering how much drug money she can get out of this. I focus on my hands, trying to remain calm. I should keep an open mind. Hear her out. But I don't want to. I'm still too angry.

After everyone is seated, Christy takes their drink orders and stomps off.

"Lovely man," Weiss says with a charming smile I don't buy for a second. I hate reporters. I thought they were irritating before. But now?

"Actually, he is a nice guy, which is more than I can say for you." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Adrian touches the back of my arm right above the elbow. A small touch, but it soothes me. A reminder to stay calm.

"Yes, well then." Weiss studies us with an almost amused smile. "We're here today to talk about Simon."

Before the words even register, Adrian grips my elbow, which tempers my response. Instead of screaming at the man, I keep my voice even. "This is not about my son?—"

"Our son," Jane says, and I turn my furious gaze on her. She swallows. "He is still my son, Isaac."

Adrian clears his throat, stopping me from calling her every bad name I can think of. Right. There's a reporter in the room. "Please do not record this conversation, Luka. It is, for now, off the record."

His eyes widen. Is it because of the request or because Adrian called him by his first name? "For now, Your Highness."

"Adrian is fine." He sounds almost embarrassed.

"Prince Adrian," Reginald says from the end of the table. When Adrian starts to say something, he repeats in a firm voice, "Prince Adrian."

That seems smart. A reminder that this involves the royal family and maybe putting Weiss in his place.

"Why are we here?" I ask, leaning forward and staring at Weiss, ignoring Jane, for the moment. "This seems extreme."

"Jane wants to see her son."

"Cut the crap. You don't give a shit about my ex-wife or my son. Why the fuck are we here?"

His startled gaze cuts to Adrian. Cussing in front of a prince is probably frowned upon. But he nods. "It's a story. The public has a right to know." Adrian actually growls at that. "Look, this is my job?—"

"Find a better one," Adrian says. "Cleaning out the royal stables might be an option."

Weiss laughs. "Phillipe would love that, wouldn't he?"

Adrian narrows his eyes, and I grab his leg to keep him calm. We need to get control of this meeting.

"You have nothing," I say before Adian can yell at the man. "The picture is circumstantial. It's a fluff piece at most. The prince met an American man at Burger King. So what?"

Weiss glances between us, then over at Reginald. It suddenly seems clear. The prince is here. In America. Defending my honor. He could have sent a representative. But he didn't. Now, it's more than a fluff piece, and my heart does this lurchy thing. But is it really much more than that? "A son deserves to know his mother." He glances away.

Wait, is this personal? Adrian's eyes soften for a moment. I hate not knowing what's going on, but honestly? I don't care what his reasons are.

A harrumph announces Christy's return as he carefully sets drinks in front of Weiss and Jane. The muscles in his arms seem to strain with the effort of not slamming them down. Jane remains still until Christy turns to leave. Her gaze follows him out, her eyes sad.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself for the hundredth time that addiction is a disease and I need to be respectful. But everything that's happened to Simon, to me, to this family, weighs on my heart, making it difficult to breathe.

Unfortunately, her actions have burned bridges with Christy. There was a time when Christy would have done anything for her. Had done anything for her. When he and Emily had first married, they lived in Ireland. They moved back to Mule Creek to be closer to family. Closer to Jane, Emily's baby sister.

That was before everything fell apart. Before Emily died. Before Jane became addicted to drugs, which, in turn, destroyed her relationship with her brother-in-law and niece.

After Christy leaves, I turn to Jane, my voice firm. "I don't want to waste everyone's time, so let's get to the point, Jane." She twists her glass of water, and I wait until her eyes meet mine. "The answer is no."

Her mouth drops open. "That's not fair. It's been years since I've seen him."

"Fair? Do you really want to talk about what's fair? Because I have a list." A fucking long list.

"You're keeping my son from me."

"That's not true, and you know it." My shout rings through the room, and Jane almost knocks over her water. Weiss stares at me like he's cataloging every word to put in a story. Christy appears in the doorway, a question in his eyes. I raise my hand. "We're fine, thanks." He retreats to wherever he's been. Probably eavesdropping.

"It is true." Jane's voice is quiet. She runs a finger through the spilled drops of water on the table. What is she playing at? I'm not used to this docile side of her.

"You can see Simon when you're not actively using drugs."

"I'm not?—"

"You need to be in remission for six months, Jane. You know the rules."

Her eyes are clear. Clearer than I've seen in a while, but we've been here before. "I'm not using, Isaac. I swear. I miss him so much."

I shake my head, trying not to replay Simon's words in my head. He misses her too. But I need to remain firm. "How long?"

She knows exactly what I'm asking. "Four months. I—it's not easy, Isaac. But I'm doing it this time. You can drug test me."

"Oh, I will."

She sits up in her chair. "But?"

"This isn't the first time, Jane. Every time I let you see him, it gets his hopes up that you're going to be part of his life, and then you choose—" I bite my lips. Trying so damn hard. "I get that you're not really choosing this, but when—if—you leave again, it will tear him apart. I can't do that to him." I swallow the emotion and the memories of Simon crying for his mom. Wondering why she doesn't love him enough to stay.

"This time is different."

"Okay." I glance over at Weiss, expecting a smug smile. But his face is pale. Is he going to be sick? "Are we done?"

He opens his mouth, but Jane speaks first. "No. I need you to believe me, Isaac. You can call the treatment center. I did ninety days inpatient, and now I'm doing outpatient. All my drug tests have been negative."

"Those can be faked."

"Yes."

I'm surprised by her admission. This is different. "So, how can I trust them?"

She sighs. "That's always going to be true. Even after six months. A year. Drug tests can be faked. But some things can't be faked, Isaac. I have a job. A stable place to live. I can account for my time and my money. I'm an open book."

In that moment, I almost believe her. But getting off drugs is only a part of the battle. Staying off them. Staying sober for months. Years. How long will it be before she's using again? Before she's gone again?

As if she can read my thoughts, she says, "Can I promise to never relapse? I can. But it won't be true. Relapse is always a possibility. We can start slow. Have a plan in place in case…" She stops and wipes the tears from her eyes. This close, the scars she covers with makeup are visible. But she's still beautiful, and I see traces of the woman I fell in love with. The mother Simon used to have in his life. The hope it gives me hurts. Because we've been through this before.

Adrian sniffs, and I glance at him. He gives me a watery smile. He asked me my worst fears, and hurting him is one of them. But I need to protect my son.

"You seem to be doing well, Jane. I commend you for that. Come back in two months."

"You blocked me. I have no way of getting a hold of you."

I laugh, spreading my arms out. "Obviously, that's not true."

Tears stream down her face. "I'm sorry. I just—Isaac, I miss my son."

"But that's part of the problem, Jane," I say gently, trying to take the sting out of my words but already done with the entire conversation. "This isn't about you or what you want. It's not about me or what I want. It's about our little boy and what's best for him."

"That's why I've stayed away. I wanted to be sure. How can I prove to you I'm no longer using drugs? That I'm doing what I need to do?—"

"Not by blackmailing me."

Her eyes drop to the table, and she sniffs, sounding too much like Simon.

I stand, and the scrape of my chair sounds loud in the room. "Simon is not a pawn to be used in whatever game this is." I glare at Weiss and then back at Jane. "Is that really what you want? Reporters everywhere? Our son on the news? Just threatening this tells me you're not ready."

"That wasn't my intention, I swear." She grabs a tissue from her purse and blows her nose.

Christy catches my eye from the doorway. He's leaning against the door with his arms crossed. He raises his bushy red brows at me. After my bout of temper, I feel ridiculous. I'm the only one standing, but sitting down feels like I'm giving up something.

Jane stands, and I almost sigh in relief. Maybe this nightmare is almost over. She writes something on a piece of paper and hands it to me. "I'll be back in two months. If you don't want me to contact you, I need you to contact me. Here's my number. My address. The number to the rehab place. I've already signed the consent forms so they can talk to you. And my place of employment. I've been there for three months. What else do you want?"

Shock has me staring at her. The determination in her eyes is new. Maybe this time will be different. I glance over the information and nod. Until I get to the end.

My head snaps up. "You work at the pretzel place?"

She hesitates but lifts her chin. "Yes."

"In the Blue Springs Mall." That explains so much.

"Isaac…" There's a plea in her voice.

I nod. What's done is done. And I fucking hate that phrase. "This is fine for now, Jane. Thank you." The reporter stands. He's no longer as self-assured as he was before the meeting. "I would like you not to run with this story, Mr. Weiss, but if you do, I guess we'll know what kind of journalist you are."

Adrian stands. "Thank you for meeting with us." Reginald remains seated.

Jane smiles at him but her eyes dart to me. "So you're gay now, and you've got yourself a prince?"

I fold my arms across my chest. "You've known I was bi since our junior year in high school."

She grins. "I remember. You used to flirt with Garrett?—"

A growl from Christy stops our trip down memory lane. Right. Lanie and Garrett are off-limits. The conversation earlier with Christy wasn't fun. The man is pissed. Jane has a long way to go to earn his trust again.

Adrian gives me a confused look. Will he be asking about this later? Probably.

They say their goodbyes, and Jane turns to Christy. "I'd like to see Lanie." She holds up a hand before he can get out a full growl. "I know that's not possible, but if you could tell her I'm sorry and I love her."

"Like hell, I will. Stay sober, and you might be able to tell her yourself."

Jane smiles. "Thank you, Christy."

"I said might," he huffs. And then he escorts them out. I listen, almost expecting another argument, but nothing. Once the door closes, I slump into my chair, and relief washes over me. "I'm glad that's over."

Adrian grabs my hand but glances over at Reginald.

"Excuse me," Reginald says and then heads toward the restrooms.

When I turn back, Adrian's eyes are full of admiration. For me? "You're amazing, Isaac. I've never met someone so strong. Determined. Protective."

My face heats, and I swallow my denial. I'm not that great. "Thank you."

He kisses me, and it's fierce and needy. I let out a whine and pull back. Christy will return soon, and I don't need another lecture on my irresponsibility. "This probably isn't the best time or place. Reporters might still be in the area."

"Sorry," he says, red blooming over his cheeks. "Seeing you so forceful did things to me." He's still blushing, and I can't help but glance at his lap, where I see a definite bulge.

I kiss him hard and release him just as quickly. Right. This can wait. "I don't trust Jane—not yet—but I don't think she'll risk not getting to see Simon. What do we do about Weiss?"

Adrian brushes my hair away from my face. I can imagine how unruly it is. "Don't worry. I'll take care of the reporter."