The Artist's Artist | PRN

10. here for you

We were seated in the opulent living room of Prince's sprawling mansion, bathed in the soft glow of elegant lighting. Sipping from glasses of wine, our casual conversation swirled effortlessly, but beneath the surface, a lingering concern had been gnawing at me, one that I could no longer keep to myself.

"Prince," I began, placing my glass down gently and turning to him with a sense of urgency. "There's something important I need to share with you."

He regarded me with curiosity, his eyes locking onto mine. "What's on your mind?"

"I want you to know how much you mean to me," I expressed, peering deeply into his eyes. "I genuinely care for you and cherish the moments we've spent together. But, honestly, I'm starting to feel confined, like a bird in a gilded cage. I miss the independence and freedom I used to have."

Prince's features softened, his fingers tenderly encircling my hand. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle and understanding. "Your happiness and fulfillment matter to me deeply. I don't want to be the one holding you back."

"Thank you for your understanding," I said, a sense of relief washing over me. "But it's not just about finances; it's about regaining control of my own life. I've started to feel like I'm here because you want me to be, and I'm not sure that's enough for me."

Prince nodded, his gaze filled with empathy. "I can see that," he acknowledged, the depth of his understanding apparent. "And I want to support you in any way you need. If that means you need your independence, then I'll respect and honor your decision."

"Thank you, Prince," I replied, a wave of gratitude washing over me. "Your understanding and support mean the world to me."

"Of course," he said, leaning in to plant a soft, reassuring kiss on my lips. "I genuinely care about your happiness."

As we sat there, hand in hand, the realization that our relationship was evolving hung in the air. Yet, it was a change born out of mutual respect and understanding, and I knew that Prince and I would navigate this transition together.

...

Weeks turned into months, and Prince and I found ourselves spending increasingly more time together. Our connection grew stronger as we ventured on weekend getaways, shared quiet moments at home, and explored new facets of our relationship. It was during these extended periods of togetherness that our bond deepened, transcending the boundaries of a traditional partnership.

One evening in Prince's lavishly adorned living room, he turned to me, his eyes alight with excitement. "I've made some plans for us next weekend," he revealed, a joyful anticipation lacing his voice. "I've rented a villa in the south of France, and I thought we could spend the weekend there, just the two of us."

I hesitated, feeling a sense of unease prickling within me. "Prince, I can't go," I admitted, my voice gentle yet resolute. "I'm already committed to something else next weekend."

Prince's expression fell, a cloud of disappointment darkening his features. "Committed?" he repeated, a note of confusion in his voice. "What do you mean, committed?"

I took a deep breath, recognizing that another important conversation lay ahead. "What I mean is that I've made other plans," I explained, my voice steady and determined. "Prince, I value what we have, but I'm still struggling with feeling like I'm a kept woman. I need my independence and the freedom to make my own choices."

Prince's clenched fists and furrowed brow revealed his inner turmoil, his voice tight with anger. "So, what does this mean?" he asked, the words simmering with frustration. "Are you just walking away from us?"