Selena Robins, Author

It’s disappointing to me that there were no paparazzi lurking around after Cindy (formerly Cinderella) lost her glass slipper and her clothes at midnight.

One minute she’s dancing at a ball, the next she’s sprinting down the palace steps, lost her stiletto and turned into a hot mess at midnight. And then, the next day, she’s the most eligible bachelorette in the kingdom.

All this, and nobody thought to document what happened after the fairy dust settled.

So, as a romance author, and a firm believer that happily ever after doesn’t mean happily never annoyed, I feel somewhat qualified to fill in the gaps.

Yes, the Prince found the girl.
Yes, the shoe fit.
Yes, the wedding was magical.

And then… life happened.

Prince Once-Very-Charming worked hard for his monarchy and inherited money, but after centuries of storybook glory, the palace is in desperate need of repairs. Turns out white glitter and velvet drapes went out of style, and no one warned them.

Here’s a peek at one of their loving, and real, happily-ever-after conversations:

Cindy: “I’m throwing that cape out. It doesn’t fit you, and we need more closet space.”

Charming: “How about dumping those glass slippers? They don’t fit you anyway.”

Cindy: “Are you saying I have cankles?”

Charming: “What the hell are cankles?”

Cindy: “Fat ankles, you idiot.”

Charming looks down at her ankles.

Cindy: “Why are you looking at my feet?”

Charming smiles and winks.

Charming: “So… about that closet. I could build you a new one.”

Cindy: “You think that damn swagger is going to get you out of this? Newsflash. That’s getting old. And so are you.”

Charming: “I’ll tell you what’s old. Your step-monster and her butt-ugly daughters sponging off us.”

Cindy: “I agree.”

Charming: “I’ll order a hit.”

Cindy: “Ah. My hero.”

Charming puffs out his chest.
Cindy rolls her eyes.

He steps in, curling his arms around her waist, pulls her against his chest and kisses her.

The kiss isn’t soft or chaste. It’s familiar. Confident. Trusting and still the kind that reignites sparks, stealing her breath, and still sending ridiculous butterflies fluttering like it’s the first night at the ball instead of years later.

She forgets what she was mad about.

They sell the slippers on eBay, lock the palace doors, and continue their happily ever after the way that works for them, with sharp banter, lingering kisses, mutual threats, and the kind of love that still gives you butterflies long after midnight.

Yeah.

They’ll make it to the finish line.

Because that’s the real secret no fairy tale tells you. Love isn’t about perfection, it’s about choosing each other, even when the magic wears off, the castle needs a new roof, and someone will comment on your ankles.