I crawled into bed the moment Beau left and Foofer jumped in after me, finding a comfortable place where he could cuddle with my feet. The bedroom alone was larger than the entire apartment I left behind. And I’d shared that apartment with Jane. I wondered what would happen if she could see me now, lying in a giant bed in a palace, working for royalty.

I didn't need her. In fact, my life was better without her.

Except for the fact that she wasn't in it.

I told myself I never would have taken this opportunity if she hadn't left me for Erik. I'd still be there, back in New York with all the loud, honking cabs, and screaming crowds of people jaywalking their way through the city.

And all my friends, and someone to keep me warm at night in our queen-sized bed.

That was the flip side of everything. The room was bigger. The bed was bigger. All it did was make me feel lonelier.

I took out my phone and wondered what time it was back in New York. It was two in the morning here, so it was eight at night there. I imagined Jane and Erik, together in my bed, probably settling in for the night, maybe watching TV like we used to do together.

I left everything behind. What was ours was now hers. All of it. I didn't want it. All it did was remind me of her.

There was the couch we bought from someone down the hall, when they were moving. Fifty bucks and it served its purpose. It was a bit worn down and beaten up, but it was comfortable and, when Jane spilled the glass of red wine on it, it didn't even matter. It gave the couch more character.

We’d combined our record collection. That was a big deal. In the beginning, we kept them separate, she didn't even like my taste in music at first. She liked old jazz recordings. I preferred later classic rock like Queen and Billy Joel. It didn't matter anymore, they were all her records now.

I looked over at Foofer, already drifting off to sleep, leg twitching in a hypnotic jerk. He was a reminder of the only thing I truly missed, other than Jane herself. Lucy. Lucy was our Rottweiler, Boxer mix, the sweetest dog you'd ever meet. I'd never forget the look when I left for the last time, those sad puppy dog eyes she gave me every time I left for the store. She was always afraid I'd never return. This time she was right.

I scrolled down my phone, through my contacts, getting to Jane's name. I started writing out a text. "How's everything going? How's Lucy?" I didn't send it. I wanted to send it, but I kept myself from doing it. I did want to know how Lucy was doing, but Lucy was a dog, she'd be fine. Really, I just wanted an excuse to talk to Jane again.

Why was I so stuck on her? I thought back to the woman on the plane, Cheryl. The older woman who taught history at Oxford. She’d been hitting on me. I could call her right now, she basically gave me an open invitation for no strings attached sex.

I couldn't do that either. My heart doesn't work that way. I get attached. Jane was my girl. We were only together for six months, but it was like peeling off a Band-Aid. You can try and rip it off, but pieces stay behind and even as you try and scratch every little bit off, there's always that residue that sticks to the surface and never goes away. I wouldn’t ever be over Jane.

That's why I couldn’t be with someone like her, I told myself. A spoiled little rich girl who always got what she wanted. She wanted me, so she got me. But then she threw me away like all her things. When she got tired of driving her BMW, her dad bought her a Mercedes. It was the same thing with me. She got sick of me and just wanted to try a different model. It wasn’t like Erik was a step up from me, he was a lateral move at best.

Sooner or later, I thought, she'll probably get sick of him, too. I was done with that game. I didn't want to date anymore. Certainly not for fun.

I deleted the text message.

That wasn't enough. I scrolled down to Jane in the contacts and clicked the delete button. An alert popped up, "Are you sure you would like to delete this contact?" This was it, did I really want her out of my life forever? Could I do this? All I had to do was press, "Yes," and I’d never be able to contact her again.

I had no self-control. If I didn't delete her name, I knew I’d eventually try to get in contact with her again. I had to do this for my own sake. I closed my eyes, pressed, "Yes," and in an instant, she was removed from my phone.

I wished I could get her out of my head that easily.

I remembered an old record we used to have in our apartment. It was a Billie Holiday recording and the song was called, "I'm Gonna Lock My Heart and Throw Away the Key." It's sort of an upbeat type song and she's singing her heart out. I remember she sang, "And if I ever fall in love again, that's soon enough for me. I'm gonna lock my heart and throw away the key."

That sounded like a pretty good plan.

There was a knock at the door. I opened it to find the Queen standing in front of me. Or, rather, Windfra, as she wanted me to call her.

"I see you've found your accommodations all right," she said.

"Yes," I said. "Very nice."

"Wonderful," she said. "I wanted to discuss a couple of things with you away from Beau, if that's okay."

"Of course."

"May I come in?"

"Please."

She walked in, closing the door behind her. I always thought royalty would wear thick layers of heavy clothes. I must have gotten that idea from the movies. Windfra wore a light, silky garment. Something akin to a kimono, perhaps, but with brighter colors and more form-fitting.

She took a seat beside my bed and I pulled up another chair.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

"Honestly, Queen…" I stopped myself. "Honestly, Windfra, I was thinking I’d probably go to sleep. I'm feeling a bit jet-lagged."

"Of course. Then I'll make this brief. Beau is going to try to lose you the first chance he gets. We won't let him leave without you as an escort, so as long as you're both here, you don't need to worry. Once you step out the palace, don't let him get too far."

"I understand completely."

"If you do lose him, do not try and find him. We have someone who's very good at locating him. She knows his favorite places to be and can usually anticipate where he'll go. The fastest thing to do, the best way to keep Beau safe, is to let me know as soon as you can so I can get her to find him. Understood?"

"Yes."

"There's one more thing," she said. "I understand you're from the United States and things work a bit differently over there. I mentioned before that if there's anything you'd like, please let us know. And I want to be very clear that I mean anything. There's no harm in asking."

She put her hand on my leg.

"Just to be very clear, Mr. Thomas, I am offering myself to you, if you're interested."

I was uncomfortable, which I supposed she mistook for confusion.

"I mean sexually. We call it the royal welcome. Because I'm royal and I guarantee that we'll come."

She was sexy, no doubt. And royalty. And even had eyes with the same piercing quality as Jane's. I could almost pretend she was Jane. But that wouldn't be fair to either of them.

"That was a joke," she said.

"Oh," I said and offered a pity laugh.

"But the offer is serious."

It just didn't sit right with me. Maybe any other man would have taken her up on the offer. Not me, though.

"Windfra, I appreciate it, but I wouldn't feel comfortable."

She removed her hand. "That's quite all right," she said. "Of course, there's no harm in my asking, right?" She winked at me.

I smiled. "I suppose not."

"I imagine such a proposition seems unusual to you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I felt blood flowing to my face.

"I assure you, I won't be the last person to ask while you're here."

She hadn’t been the first, either.

"I suppose I should leave you be, then," she said.

"Yes. Thank you once again, the room is great."

"I'm glad you like the accommodations," we both stood up and I walked her to the door. "Have a good night," she said.

"Good night."

I let her out and lay down on the bed. By the time my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.