Christopher's POV.
I woke up with a smile on my face. I'd dreamed about Felicity — her smile, her laugh, the way she looked at me. In the dream, she was mine forever. When I got to the dining room, everyone was already there — my parents, the twins, Penelope, and of course, Mia, hovering like a shadow.
"Good morning, Father. Good morning, Mother. Hello, twins. Penny. Mia," I greeted cheerfully. "How's everyone today?"
"Morning, brother," the twins chorused.
My parents replied together, "We're well, thank you."
But Mia didn't say a word, classic Mia.
Mother looked up from her cup of tea, smiling softly. "Good morning, son. You look happy. What's going on?"
I tried to hide my grin, but it slipped out anyway. "Just… good dreams, Mother."
She raised an eyebrow. "Good dreams, or someone in your dreams?"
Penny almost choked on her toast, laughing. Mia rolled her eyes and stabbed her fork into her pancakes.
Father gave me that half-serious look. "Dreams or not, stay focused. You have duties today."
"Yes, Father," I said, still smiling.
"Okay, stop smiling, it's making me sick. Mother, I'm going out," Penny said.
"To where?" Mother asked.
"Yeah, sister, to where?" I added.
"Felicity's house. Don't wait up for me — I'll be late. I'm going shopping for the Winter Ball," Penny said.
I smiled again. Even as the day went on with meetings and royal routines, my thoughts stayed with her — Felicity. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her kiss. She didn't know it yet, but my two-week challenge had just begun.
Road trip? Done. Walk through Oxford's secret streets? Done. Next? Stargazing and a picnic under the stars. After that… who knows? Maybe a moonlit dance. Maybe a promise. Felicity Paddington wasn't just the girl I wanted. She was the girl I'd fight for — no matter what storm, scandal, or scheme Mia threw our way. And I swore to myself — I would never let her heart break again.
>>>>>>>
Felicity's POV.
The next morning, a knock rattled my door.
"Go away," I mumbled into my pillow.
"Oh, no. Not happening." Penelope barged in like she owned the place, flopping right onto my bed. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief — full of trouble. "You kissed him, didn't you? I saw you with your mouth all over him. And don't lie — I know you want to kiss him again. It's written all over your face. Spill it, Paddington."
I groaned and yanked my blanket over my head. "Penelope, go away, you maniac."
She yanked off my blanket. "Nope! Not until you tell me everything and give me details. Also — we have to talk about outfits. Winter Ball in two weeks. You and I, we're going shopping. You need something that screams Queen of Oxford, not confused freshman. I'm thinking velvet. Maybe sapphire or chocolate brown to match your soulful eyes. Unless you want scarlet — ooh, spicy and scandalous!"
"Get out! For goodness' sake."
"Oh, don't you dare give me that look. I saw your face last night. Red as a tomato. You've got it bad, Fel. Like Chris said — my Fel." She grinned wickedly. "And don't even try lying. I know you too well."
"Penelope!" I groaned, burying my face in the pillow as I threw my other pillow at her. "No. Stop!"
"Yes and never!" She tugged the pillow away and grinned. "What happened on the bridge last night? Was there tongue? Oh my gosh, was it one of those hot grab-me-and-don't-let-go kisses, or the sweet I've-waited-my-whole-life kind? What did it feel like? Did fireworks explode? Did the snow sparkle brighter? Did angels sing Hallelujah? Sweetheart, it is my job as your best friend slash part-time wedding planner."
I tried to change the subject. "Shouldn't you be studying or something?"
She gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "Studying? When my best friend's life has just turned into a royal rom-com soap opera? Are you insane? Girl, no."
I laughed despite myself. "You're ridiculous."
"Yes. And fabulous, actually." She sprang to her feet, clapping her hands. "Now, we need a dress. So — shopping trip. Today. No excuses."
"I'm not in the mood."
"Oh, please." She plopped beside my lap. "If you don't pick a dress, I'll pick one for you that makes you look like a disco ball or a pink, glittery Barbie that exploded. Your choice."
I rolled my eyes but smiled. That was Penelope — loud, pushy, annoying but comforting and exactly what I needed. Then came a knock. Knock, knock. We both froze.
Penelope tilted her head. "Expecting anyone?"
"No…" I whispered.
I opened the door. And there he was. Alex. Not Alex — Theo. Theo. My past and my heartbreak wrapped into one. His hair was damp from the snow, his grey eyes sharp and searching. The boy who had once held my heart — and crushed it — now standing on my doorstep like a mistake returning for another chapter.
Penelope's jaw dropped. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
Alex stood in the doorway, snow still clinging to his hair and coat. His voice was soft but shaky. He looked nervous — eyes full of regret.
"Felicity," he said quietly. "Can we talk? Please. I just need a minute. One minute to explain myself."
My stomach dropped. The hallway felt smaller. The air tighter. My heart pounded so loud it almost drowned him out. Penelope crossed her arms, glaring like a warrior queen ready for battle.
"Oh, heck no. Absolutely not. Not this bloody telenovela again. Nope. Not happening." She pointed accusingly at him. "You don't get to show up looking like some tragic hero after everything. You don't get to pretend nothing happened. I will escort you right out before I commit actual murder."
"Penelope," I whispered.
But inside? My heart was shaking — because right there in front of me were two versions of my life colliding: Theo… Chris… and all my impossible feelings.
Penelope wasn't done. "Do you not see she's barely glued back together? And you think you can swoop in with your sad eyes and ruin her again? Over my dead body, Owen."
Theo — Alex — swallowed hard, his gaze locked on me.
"Please," he repeated softly.
And my stupid heart twisted because part of me wanted to slam the door… and part of me wanted answers.
He stood fully in front of me now, voice breaking.
"I know I hurt you. I was stupid." His breath trembled. "But I didn't come here to make trouble. I just want you to hear me out."
His eyes met mine — full of regret. I stepped back slowly. Penelope groaned but stepped aside — barely.
"You have five minutes," she said flatly. "And if you make her cry, I swear I'll throw you off this floor myself."
He walked inside. Penelope hovered behind me, arms crossed.
Theo looked at the floor. "I never meant to hurt you or for things to go that far," he said. "I lost control. I thought I could fix what I broke, but I only made it worse. I know you don't trust me anymore. Maybe you'll never forgive me. And I don't blame you. But I needed you to know I'm sorry, Felicity. Truly sorry."
I swallowed, trying to breathe. "I don't hate you," I whispered. "But I don't trust you either. Not anymore."
He nodded slowly. "I understand."
My voice shook. "Why did you leave? Why did you break my heart like that? You never told me anything."
He took a shaky breath.
"My family fell apart," he said. "My father… he had another woman. Another child or children, I don't know. A whole secret family. When it all came out, the news destroyed us. Reporters everywhere. Photos. Rumors. My mother cried every night."
His jaw tightened.
"I don't even know if all of it is true, but I saw it everywhere — TV, my phone, online. And I believed it. My father's affair. His lies."
He blinked rapidly, holding emotion back.
"My name — Theodore Owen — became a scandal. People whispered every time I walked into school. And you saw every bit of it. I hated that you had to see me like that."
My chest hurt.
"When you asked me to prom… I wanted to say yes more than anything," he said. "But I was scared. I thought you deserved someone normal. Not someone drowning in gossip and shame."
He looked away, voice quieter:
"So I did the worst thing. I pushed you away. I chose another girl… just so you would stop caring about me. I thought it would protect you. But all it did was destroy us."
Silence settled like snow.
"I couldn't face you again. I changed everything — my city, my school, my name. 'Alex' was easier. No past. No pain. But running didn't fix anything. I still thought about you. Every day."
His voice cracked.
"I'm sorry, Felicity. I never stopped caring. I never stopped loving you. I was just… a coward."
My eyes stung with tears.
"I didn't know," I whispered. "Theo… I'm so sorry. I thought I wasn't enough. I thought it was my fault. I thought you stopped caring."
He stepped closer instantly.
"No. Never," he said fiercely. "You were the only good thing in my life. But I didn't want to drag you into the mess my father created. And now… he's gone. He chose his other family. And the media makes everything worse. I just needed my dad. But he abandoned me."
Pain flickered across his face — broken, real.
"I am so sorry," I said quietly. "You know… fixing things with your dad might help. I did the same with mine. My father left me and my mom, and it hurt, but I talked to him and we're trying to make things better. Maybe your dad didn't want to leave — you may not know. Maybe it's complicated. But you should talk to him. And Theo… I never blamed you. But you hurt me. A lot. That doesn't disappear with sorry."
"I know," he whispered. "I would take it all back if I could. Maybe I'll talk to him."
The room went still. Penelope's voice softened:
"So… what do you want from her?"
He looked at me — really looked.
"I don't want to ruin anything for you," he said quietly. "I just needed you to know the truth. You deserve that much."
"So… what should I call you? Theo or Alex?" I asked softly.
"Theo's fine," he said after a pause, his voice low. "But I prefer Alex—where the past stays in the past."
He took a small step back toward the door, the air between us heavy with everything we never said.
"If you never want to see me again, I'll respect that," he said. "But I hope one day… you'll forgive me. Take care of yourself, Felicity."
He turned the handle. He left. Silence hit hard.
Penelope threw her hands up. "Well, that was dramatic. Ten out of ten for timing."
I let out a tiny laugh, even though tears still burned behind my eyes. "You're impossible."
She grinned. "And you, my dear best friend, need tea, a new dress, and a long talk about the fact that two boys are basically fighting over you."
Despite everything, I smiled. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again — like maybe things could finally start to make sense.