81 The Epitome of a Handsome Prince

Once back in our room Al paced back and forth so much it was making me dizzy. I wanted to ask him to stop but couldn't open my mouth. He might be angry—too angry to talk to me properly—but he had declared that I was the only family he needed less than ten minutes ago.

That was a pretty bold thing to say. Despite forgetting me outside and not listening to me since coming back I was the only one Al really trusted. It made me feel guilty considering the things I was keeping from him.

"Al," I prompted gently. "What do you want to do?"

He stopped pacing and whirled around to look at me helplessly. "Do? What can I do? My entire life is a lie! Do you have any idea what that is like?"

I had a pretty good idea. Our problems were similar but opposite. He found out that he wasn't who he thought he was. I had been pretending to be someone I wasn't to survive. Both of us had experienced some form of identity crisis.