Our second week in Milan is wrapped up, and we are in London. The atmosphere isn’t as cozy as it was in Milan, but there is still plenty to do and things to see. Maxwell has been able to be a bit more flexible with his schedule, and we are scheduled to see several abandoned palaces and castles in and around London, as well as the main attractions.

I pack a cold lunch to take with us so we can have a picnic while we’re at a larger palace today. It’s a few hours away from London, but the reviews I have read said that it’s well worth the trip.

Bella skips into the room and holds up our hats. “Can we wear our hats?”

It is a windy day, but I can’t think of a better time to pull them out. “Yes, let’s do that.” I smile.

She jams a hat onto her head. “You can wear this one; it matches with your dress,” she says approvingly.

“Right you are, Madame,” I tell her in my faux British accent.

Bella laughs and covers her mouth. “You sound just like everyone over here,” she observes between spurts of laughter.

“Well, that’s where the accent comes from,” I tell her. “This is Britain, home of the British accent.” I wave my arms grandly, and Bella dissolves in giggles.

“Whatever do we have here,” Max says, coming into the room. I laugh at his attempt at the accent.

“That’s butchered,” I complain. “You don’t sound British. You just sound like a spoiled New Englander.”

“It’s the best I can do,” Max says in mock frustration.

Bella laughs harder. “Daddy, just talk normal. We don’t know what you’re saying.”

Max pounces on her and proceeds to tickle her until she begs for mercy. “Tell me it’s good,” he demands.

“It’s good, it’s good,” she pants.

As soon as she’s up, she darts to a corner before insulting it again so he’ll chase her. I smile to myself. It’s going to be a wonderful afternoon.

* * *

Hours later, we’ve consumed most of the food from the picnic. I’d assumed we would pick something up along the way. But Bella expressed her desire to have a proper high tea, and I did my best to deliver. I prepared a substantial lunch complete with a fennel salad, sausage rolls, tarts, scones, jams, and tea. I don’t think Max cares for tea, but I know he had a difficult time resisting Bella’s hand-poured cups just for him. Bella was especially pleased to have been dressed the part and got up to twirl in her appreciation until she was breathless.

We have our tour guide take us along the scenic route of the grounds. Bella has lost some of her energy, but she is still marching along with us like a trooper. Well, more like the Queen’s guard I think in amusement.

When we had the tour of the castle itself earlier, it was with a larger group, and we didn’t have time to look at all the little parts that caught our interest. Now we have it mostly to ourselves. The crowd has dissipated since we were the last tour group for the day.

“We close in an hour, but you folks are welcome to take your time. You’ll find us in there if you need anything,” a ruddy-faced woman says with a wink at Bella.

“You got a lovely daughter there,” she admires. “Looks just like the two of ye.”

Bella giggles and runs to me. “She’s talking like you,” she says in a loud whisper.

I look back to see if the older lady heard, but she’s too far away now.

“Welcome to the world of children embarrassing you,” Max whispers in my ear as he passes by. “Get used to it. That was nothing.”

I laugh. “She already did that the other day when she saw a feminine product in my purse. She asked if she could have a lollipop.”

Max groans and shakes his head. “The good, the bad, and the ugly of parenting—this is the ugly.”

“I disagree, it’s definitely one of my favorite things,” I say. We continue to argue about the best aspects until I realize Bella’s no longer next to me.

“She must be around here somewhere,” Max says firmly. “Bella!” His voice rings out and echoes among the large gray bricks.

“Daddy?” Her voice could be coming from anywhere, but on a hunch, I move out toward the way we came into the castle. I crane my neck up and see her small figure standing in the window. She’s climbed up to one of the lower floors, but I’m still alarmed that she has moved so quickly, and it only took a moment’s distraction.

Max doesn’t seem alarmed at all. “Bella, come on down. You need to ask before you start going places.”

“Daddy,” Bella calls, undeterred. “Do you remember that princess book you read to me last night?”

While she’s busy talking, I climb up after her, taking the lopsided stairs two at a time with my heart in my throat. I feel responsible for Bella, but more than that, I would blame myself if something ever happened to her. At her age, she is incredibly unpredictable and can do things purely for attention. I can’t take that chance. I breathe easier once I’m in the room with her and have my arm around her while she’s living out her princess fantasy.

Bella is happily chattering away, unaware of the minor heart attack I had as a result of her adventure. “Laura!” She squeezes my arm. She looks down at Max. “Daddy, maybe Laura can lower her hair down so you can climb up!”

I chuckle. “I don’t think my hair is that long—or that strong. Sorry to burst your bubble, kiddo.”

“I can always take the stairs,” Max offers. “I don’t want to hurt Laura’s head. I’m kind of heavy.”

“Okay, but you have to rescue your princess,” Bella insists. “Come on, Daddy!”

Max looks reluctant, and I don’t blame him. It’s been a long day, and quite frankly, I’m too tired to play along with her game.

“I think Daddy’s tired, Bella,” I tell her. “Maybe when we go to another one before we leave we can play that game.

Bella has other ideas. “Please! Look, Daddy’s already coming up.”

Sure enough, I see Max appear in the doorway. “Which princess am I getting,” he jokes.

“Dad-dy! You only get one!” She stabs a finger in my direction. The mock play is taking on a life of its own now.

“You have to get down on one knee and ask her to marry you. And you have to tell her how much you love her.” Bella twirls on one foot and holds her dress out to emphasize her words.

“I do, yes.” Max follows her instructions, and I avoid his gaze the entire time. I try to think about anything else, but hearing him say the words that we agreed not to say or have anything to do with, makes me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.

Bella goes as far as ordering her father to carry me out of the castle, with her leading the way. Max scoops me up obediently, and soon I’m nestled against his chest, the tiny tyke in front of us directing our next move. The move back to our ride is excruciatingly slow, as Bella remembers different parts of different princess stories that she wants us to reenact for her.

I distract her with a promise of ice cream and an extra princess story once we get back to the hotel, and she agrees to leave. Max’s relief is palatable, and we drive back in silence while Bella sleeps.

Much later, I tuck Bella into bed after having fulfilled my promises to her. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I leave her room and find Max reading his emails, already in bed. We haven’t had time to discuss what happened at the castle, and I wonder if we will. I don’t think I’m prepared to have that conversation. It felt surreal, and I don’t like the feelings that came when we were acting it out.

When I spoke to Riley last week, she had warned me that something like this would happen. I know she’ll gloat once I tell her, but I need her sound advice. I know she’ll have a way of explaining how I’m feeling in a way that I can’t articulate.

“She’s asleep?” Max asks without looking up.

“Yes,” I reply. Then on a whim, I ask, “What happened between you and your ex-wife?”

Max’s head snaps up. “Oh. Her? Well, long story short, I wanted a family more than I wanted her. I didn’t think things through, despite the warning signs around me. We got married, she got pregnant, she wanted to use it as an opportunity to cash in. She agreed to carry the baby to full-term, and once she delivered, she got her money, signed over all parental rights and left.” He returns to his laptop, and I stay quiet.

I’m disgusted by how this woman so callously forked over her child for money, but I wonder how much I mirror her. Is that how Max sees me? What I’m doing is hardly any different, after all.