𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘
.・゜゜・
𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐃'𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 -
She's the rebellious princess of Italy. Finding herself in an arranged marriage, she does everything to fight for her freedom. However, a certain bodyguard...
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"We're over."
Those two words finally came out of my mouth, and I didn't regret it at all. In fact, I feel relieved. I don't have to deal with her bullshit anymore. More importantly, I don't have to lie to myself and force myself to think that I love her.
I can hear the sound of Camille's condescending laugh over the phone. "You're joking, right? You're breaking up with me? You can't even sleep without me by your side."
I can't help the anger that washes over me at the sound of her voice. My hands curl into fists, and my knuckles turn white as I try not to smash my phone against the wall. "No, Camille, I'm not joking," I say, my voice cold as ice. "I'm done. I'm breaking up with you."
Her laughter stops abruptly, replaced by a deafening silence. I can feel her shock through the phone. Good. She needs to realize how much she screwed up—how much she's been screwing up this entire time. I'm done being her puppet.
"What do you mean, you're breaking up with me?" she finally asks, her tone shaking.
"I mean exactly what I said," I reply, not giving an inch. "We're done. I'm done with you."
"Why? Is there another girl? Are you cheating on me?" she demands immediately, her voice rising with each question.
I let out a sharp laugh. Her question just let me know everything about her. If she really knew me at all, she would know damn well that I would never cheat. "No, Camille. There's no one else. I'm doing this for myself."
"Are you serious?" she inquires, a note of disbelief in her voice.
"Yes, I'm serious," I tell her, my tone firm. "We're over. Do not contact me again."
Silence again. It's obvious that she doesn't know how to respond, and I feel a small sense of satisfaction because of that. Part of my mind is saying that I should hang up the phone already and focus on the princess. But there's still that smart part of me that can't let her go—not yet, anyway.
On the phone, I hear her clear her throat. "Babe, I don't think you're alright. Are you having another episode? You don't seem to be thinking correctly—let me help you." Her voice is so soft that I almost fall for it. I'm not going to be stupid enough to fall for her ingenuity anymore than I already have.
"Have a nice life," I mutter quietly. With that, I hang up the phone, not even bothering to wait for her response. I don't even know if I would have been able to stomach another moment of her voice. I let out a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I'm finally free.
