Oh My, I Messed Up the Story

Once back in our room, Al paced back and forth so much it was making me dizzy. I wanted to ask him to stop but couldn't open my mouth. He might be angry—too angry to talk to me properly—but he had declared that I was the only family he needed less than ten minutes ago.

That was a pretty bold thing to say. Despite forgetting me outside and not listening to me since coming back, I was the only one Al really trusted. It made me feel guilty considering the things I was keeping from him.

"Al," I prompted gently. "What do you want to do?"

He stopped pacing and whirled around to look at me helplessly. "Do? What can I do? My entire life is a lie! Do you have any idea what that is like?"

I had a pretty good idea. Our problems were similar but opposite. He found out that he wasn't who he thought he was. I had been pretending to be someone I wasn't to survive. Both of us had experienced some form of identity crisis.

I couldn't tell him the truth now. He wouldn't believe me and even if he did, it wasn't the right time. We needed to focus on his problem right now without bringing my impossible story into the mix.

Choosing to stay with my husband and try to make this work meant we were a team. Being there for him right now was imperative.

This novel world had spiraled so far out of control, even if you didn't factor in all of the things my arrival messed up. Franz and Mariela's strained relationship in the beginning. Marcy being a spy. The circumstances surrounding Al's birth.

Did the author plan all of this? Or had her characters and world developed on their own and she merely wrote down what she saw on the surface? None of it made sense.

I didn't know what to say to comfort him, even as his expression seemed to be pleading with me to tell him how to make sense of it all. How was I supposed to do it when he couldn't? The only thing I could think of was visiting Nyla's mother but we couldn't leave the palace twice in one day. It was difficult enough trying to sneak out once a week.

"Not everything is a lie," I managed to say. "No matter what else is or isn't true, you can count on the fact that I care about you. Even if everything you thought you knew about your identity is wrong that doesn't change the fact that you're my husband or my best friend."

I did care about Al. I enjoyed his company and wanted him to be happy. He was the most solid connection I had in this fairy tale world and despite not knowing my secret, he understood me pretty well. Aside from my sister, I had never felt so close to another human being.

I missed her and my old world terribly. But on the extreme off-chance that I was able to go back, I wouldn't want to go unless I could bring Al with me.

The sad thing was that while I knew he loved me for my personality, there was a decent chance he never would have noticed me long enough for that to happen if we had met while I was in my old body. Catherine du Pont was captivating at first glance. Katie Pullman was not.

Tears filled his eyes at my words and all of the fight drained out of him. He slumped forward onto my shoulder, nearly knocking me over because of how tall and heavy he was.

"What would I do without you?" he asked in a broken voice as his arms tightened around me. "Katie, you're all I have."

He was all I had too. The one person here who was completely on my side.

My heart ached for him. Until we could get this figured out, I needed to help him feel loved and supported at the very least. It was all I could for him. I hugged him tightly and rubbed his back in an attempt to be comforting.

Al went silent for a while, soaking up my affection once we moved to the couch where it was easier to cuddle. He was sprawled across the couch at a slant, propped up by the arm rest, and I was on top of him being held much like a teddy bear. All I could really do at that point was rub his arm that was around my torso.

"You feeling any better?" I dared to ask after a while.

He didn't answer. He had fallen asleep. It couldn't be terribly comfortable trying to sleep like that so I tried to wriggle free and at the very least put a blanket over him since lifting him on my own was impossible.

No dice. I was caged inside his arms.

I managed to twist around so I was facing him and gazed up at his sleeping face. He looked more at peace than he had since meeting Nyla even though he had fallen asleep in a weird position.

He truly was the epitome of a handsome prince with his sculpted jaw, straight nose, and those stormy gray eyes. If Abby could see the hunk I had married she would never believe it. Of course, she would never believe I had ended up inside a novel either. She thought I was dead.

I sighed and trailed my fingers down the side of my husband's face. Looking at him like this did funny things to my heart sometimes. He was the most attractive person I had ever met but that personality of his!

Even if he was frequently moody or childish and had no sense of responsibility for others, the way he laughed with me and hung onto every word I said as if I were the most interesting person in the world made up for it. Would I have chosen him on my own? I don't know.

I tried to think about how I would have even met him if we had both lived in my world. We were both shut-ins by nature so it would have been difficult, if not impossible. But say we had.

If I had met this apathetic bundle of contradictions under different circumstances, would I have wanted to date him? Maybe, if he had smiled at me the way he did now, like I was the most wonderful thing imaginable. But no one would have ever smiled like that at the old me. Not even Al.