Maxon took a sip of champagne. “It’s scary to be a husband. It feels like there’s more to lose. I
worry about that title more than being called king, easily.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Aspen was quiet, considering this.
“Listen,” Maxon started. “This isn’t me kicking you out. You’re always welcome here. But maybe what you
and Lucy need is your own place.”
“What, like a house?”
“Look around. Take Lucy with you and see if you find a place you like, that feels like something you can work
on together. Making a life together might be easier if you have a home that’s really yours.”
“Marlee and Carter do fine here.”
“They’re a different couple.”
Aspen looked down, and I could see that something about this made him feel like he’d failed.
Maxon clapped him on the back. “I don’t trust many people the way I trust you. You’ve done a lot for me and
for America. Just go look. See if there’s something out there that you two really love, and if there is, consider
it a gift from us.”
“It’s your birthday. You’re supposed to be the one getting gifts,” Aspen protested, but there was a smile on his
face all the same.
“I have everything I want. A country on the upswing, a happy marriage, and good friends. Cheers, sir.”
Aspen lifted his glass with a smile, and they drank. I blinked away my happy tears and came up, tapping
Maxon on the shoulder.
He turned and broke into a sunrise of a smile. “There you are, my dear.”
“Happy birthday!”
“Thank you. This is really the best party I’ve ever had.”
“You did good, Mer,” Aspen added.
“Thank you both very much.” I turned to Maxon. “I need to steal you away for a bit.”
“Of course. We’ll talk more later,” Maxon promised Aspen, and followed me from the room.
“This way,” I instructed, pulling his arm.
“Perfect!” he said as we walked into the garden. “A break from the madness.”
I giggled, putting my head on his shoulder. Without instruction, he led us to our bench, and we sat, him facing
the forest and me facing the palace.
“Champagne?” he offered, bringing over his glass.
“No thanks.”
He took a sip himself and sighed contentedly. “This was a wonderful choice. Truly, America, this was the best
birthday I could have hoped for. Well, second best. I still would have liked the option I came up with this
morning.”
I smiled. “Maybe next year.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
I took a steadying breath. “Listen, I know we have a full night ahead of us, but I wanted to give you your
birthday present.”
“Oh, darling, you didn’t need to get me anything. Every day with you is a gift.” He leaned in and kissed me.
“Well, I hadn’t planned on getting you a gift, but then something presented itself, so here we are.”
“All right then,” he said, placing his glass on the ground. “I’m ready. Where is it?”
“That’s the only problem,” I started. I felt my hands begin to shake. “It won’t actually arrive for another seven
or eight months.”
He smiled but squinted. “Eight months? What in the world could take . . .”
As his words drifted away, so did his eyes, leaving my face and making their way to my stomach. He seemed
to expect me to look different, for me to be as big as a house already. But I’d done my best to hide everything:
the tiredness, the nausea, the sudden distaste for foods.
He stared on and on, and I waited for him to smile or laugh or jump up and down. But he sat there, frozen to
the point that it started to frighten me.
“Maxon?” I reached out and touched his leg. “Maxon, are you all right?”
He nodded, still watching my stomach. His eyes filled with tears as he spoke. “Isn’t that remarkable? I
suddenly love you a hundred times more,” he said, quietly and in awe. “And I didn’t think it was possible to
find love for a person I don’t know at all.” He finally looked up at me. “Are we really
worry about that title more than being called king, easily.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Aspen was quiet, considering this.
“Listen,” Maxon started. “This isn’t me kicking you out. You’re always welcome here. But maybe what you
and Lucy need is your own place.”
“What, like a house?”
“Look around. Take Lucy with you and see if you find a place you like, that feels like something you can work
on together. Making a life together might be easier if you have a home that’s really yours.”
“Marlee and Carter do fine here.”
“They’re a different couple.”
Aspen looked down, and I could see that something about this made him feel like he’d failed.
Maxon clapped him on the back. “I don’t trust many people the way I trust you. You’ve done a lot for me and
for America. Just go look. See if there’s something out there that you two really love, and if there is, consider
it a gift from us.”
“It’s your birthday. You’re supposed to be the one getting gifts,” Aspen protested, but there was a smile on his
face all the same.
“I have everything I want. A country on the upswing, a happy marriage, and good friends. Cheers, sir.”
Aspen lifted his glass with a smile, and they drank. I blinked away my happy tears and came up, tapping
Maxon on the shoulder.
He turned and broke into a sunrise of a smile. “There you are, my dear.”
“Happy birthday!”
“Thank you. This is really the best party I’ve ever had.”
“You did good, Mer,” Aspen added.
“Thank you both very much.” I turned to Maxon. “I need to steal you away for a bit.”
“Of course. We’ll talk more later,” Maxon promised Aspen, and followed me from the room.
“This way,” I instructed, pulling his arm.
“Perfect!” he said as we walked into the garden. “A break from the madness.”
I giggled, putting my head on his shoulder. Without instruction, he led us to our bench, and we sat, him facing
the forest and me facing the palace.
“Champagne?” he offered, bringing over his glass.
“No thanks.”
He took a sip himself and sighed contentedly. “This was a wonderful choice. Truly, America, this was the best
birthday I could have hoped for. Well, second best. I still would have liked the option I came up with this
morning.”
I smiled. “Maybe next year.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
I took a steadying breath. “Listen, I know we have a full night ahead of us, but I wanted to give you your
birthday present.”
“Oh, darling, you didn’t need to get me anything. Every day with you is a gift.” He leaned in and kissed me.
“Well, I hadn’t planned on getting you a gift, but then something presented itself, so here we are.”
“All right then,” he said, placing his glass on the ground. “I’m ready. Where is it?”
“That’s the only problem,” I started. I felt my hands begin to shake. “It won’t actually arrive for another seven
or eight months.”
He smiled but squinted. “Eight months? What in the world could take . . .”
As his words drifted away, so did his eyes, leaving my face and making their way to my stomach. He seemed
to expect me to look different, for me to be as big as a house already. But I’d done my best to hide everything:
the tiredness, the nausea, the sudden distaste for foods.
He stared on and on, and I waited for him to smile or laugh or jump up and down. But he sat there, frozen to
the point that it started to frighten me.
“Maxon?” I reached out and touched his leg. “Maxon, are you all right?”
He nodded, still watching my stomach. His eyes filled with tears as he spoke. “Isn’t that remarkable? I
suddenly love you a hundred times more,” he said, quietly and in awe. “And I didn’t think it was possible to
find love for a person I don’t know at all.” He finally looked up at me. “Are we really
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