It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m back at the café. I’ve taken as many shifts as I can get since I got home. Anything to keep my mind off my new reality. I’m alone again. I haven’t heard from Henry, so at least he’s doing what I asked. I had half expected him to beat me to Boston and meet me at the airport with an armful of roses. But he didn’t and I’m glad. It would only have prolonged the inevitable. It’s better to make a clean break so we can each get on with our lives. As much as it’s killing me, I know it’s better this way.

The café is nearly empty, with most people off at parties tonight. Only one couple sits side-by-side at a booth at the back. Henry’s booth. They look to be in their forties and seem so happy. We chatted a bit when I brought them their lattes and they were just on their way to a movie, excited that their kids are at their grandparents for the night. I try not to stare at them while I rearrange the pastries under the counter, wishing I could make a normal life with a normal guy. A good guy. I don’t need a prince. I just need someone who will love me and want a life with me.

A few minutes later, the couple gets up out of the booth. They bring their empty mugs and plates and set them on the counter.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Thank you. Happy New Year.”

“Same to you. Have fun tonight,” I call to them as the door swings shut behind them, allowing a blast of cold air into the café.

I hum along to Please Come Home for Christmas by Bon Jovi while I pour some hot water into the sink. I plunge my hands into the soapy water and find myself singing, “If not for Christmas, by New Year’s Day.”

The bell chimes above the front door and barely glance over, but call, “I’ll be with you in just a second.”

I wipe off my hands and say, “What can I get…” my voice trails off when I see him standing there, his eyes glistening.

“I tried. I really did, Addison, but I couldn’t stay away.” He takes a few steps toward me.

I tear up, hardly able to stand the sight of him so near. I shouldn’t want him. Clearing my throat, I say, “You shouldn’t have come, Henry.”

“I have something I had to tell you and I needed to say it in person.”

“Nothing you could say will make any difference. You’re a prince. I’m a waitress,” I say, pointing back and forth between us. “This can’t happen.”

“You’re wrong. I’m not a prince.”

“Wait. I don’t understand.” My entire body hums with nervous energy. I whisper, “What are you saying?”

He takes a few more steps and comes behind the counter, closing the distance between us. “I quit. I told my parents that I was sorry but I couldn’t live the life they wanted for me.”

“You can’t quit. It’s your birthright.” I lift my hand to my mouth, shocked. “You can’t give all that up for me.”

“Yes, I can. And I did,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “And I’ve never been so happy in my entire life.”

Crushing my mouth with his, he stops any further protests. We kiss and hold each other as tears roll down my cheeks. His hands go to my rear and he lifts me up in his arms and holds me there against him. We’re as close as two people who are fully clothed can be. His kiss says how much he missed me and how much he loves me and how much he needs me and mine says the same thing in return.

A light cough from the other side of the café has him pulling back a bit. Gabriel says, “I believe some customers are about to walk in, Miss Cooke.”

“Thank you,” I say, blushing deep red.

“Not at all,” he says with a nod.

Henry puts me down just as the doors open and a small group of customers come in. Instead of going to sit down, he wishes them a happy new year and asks what he can get them. My mouth drops open while he takes their order, and as we work together to prepare their drinks, he whispers to me, “I’ll have to learn a new trade. Might as well start with this.”

I grin at him. “I can put in a good word for you with the manager.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

***

We ring in the new year in Henry’s bed. Just the two of us, naked and panting while we recover from round two of what is going to be the greatest night of starting over in the history of romance. I sigh happily as he traces my hip with his fingertips.

“God, I missed you. You have no idea.” He kisses his way down to my hip, then says, “Every inch of you.” Kissing my side, he says, “Like this bit right here. Mmm. Delicious.”

I laugh a little and lie back, letting him take his time exploring me with his mouth and pointing out all the ways he missed me. I’ve never been so happy in my entire life. And the best part is, I know he feels the same way. He loves me for who I am and what I am and he always will.

When he works his way back up to me, he says, “You’re mine. You’re all mine and you really are all I need for the rest of my life.”

“I can’t believe you gave up your throne for me.”

“Totally worth it.”

My heart pounds a little faster when I think about what he’s done. “Are you sure you won’t regret it later?”

“Positive. We’re going to have an amazing life together. We’re going to get married and find excellent jobs. You’ll be a magnificent lawyer.” He grins. “You better be because we may have to rely on your income. My international relations degree might prove useless now.”

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll find a way to keep you fed and clothed,” I say with a laugh.

“You better.”

And then he’s kissing me again and his hand works its way in between my quivering thighs. I’m tired from what we’ve done, but I can’t stop myself from wanting more. With us, there will always be more.