Hawthorne

38 - Shattered

Camilla White

My ears are buzzing, locking out all of the outside noise. There's an excruciating pain thudding through my skull as my heart burns down to ashes. Still, as my shaky hands grip Edgar's forearm, I keep the tears at bay. These people will not see me shed tears, not for them and especially not because of them.

To think this would be the last thing I expected from him. That there would be some consideration when the moment to break things off came. But Vincent Hawthorne didn't even have the balls to grab the bull by the horns. In the end, he showed me exactly how much I mean to him, nothing. I was a mere nuisance, like an insignificant weed that has to be pulled out from a beautiful garden.

Worse, he gave that responsibility to someone else. His mother of all people.

Of course, he did. That's what people like him do.

These so-called blue-blooded royals consider themselves too good for the rest of the world. Up on their high thrones, looking from above, they feel entitled to hurt and stomp over everyone who doesn't reach their standards. Preying on the innocent and naïve and I should have known better!

I was dumb enough to fall for their façade, for the niceties that are only used to disguise their true colours.

"Cami."

Wobbly legs take me to the wardrobe in the far corner of my bedroom. Right beside it, in a hidden corner, lies a travelling bag, used only once back when I spent some time with Rachel. Now, even those moments are tampered with the memory of him.

I need to get out of here and fast.

Putting my arms to work, I take different clothing pieces and start filling the travel bag.

"Hey."

Once again, the far-away words fall on deaf ears as I rush back to the dresser to pick and thrust some more in. Not even bothering to fold it.

"What are you doing?"

"Leave," I answer.

"Cami, before you make any rash decisions, let's-"

"Shut up," I bark, harsher than necessary.

Edgar obliges with wide eyes, knowing how out of character this is for me. Except, at this point, I don't have it in me to regret my words or my attitude. For once, I am done with hierarchy and titles. After an entire life respecting everyone else and only getting disdain and arrogance in return, it's enough.

It only took me a broken heart to learn that... No one else will care for you as yourself.

"I want to be alone."

Edgar nods weakly, before turning around and leaving me alone in my bedroom. When the soft click of the door sounds, my ass falls on the mattress. Primrose sits down next to my feet, whimpering and licking the exposed skin on my leg.

How could I be so stupid? So naïve?

What is usually bright and classic, my bedroom now seems to match my mood at the moment. Dim lit, giving it a darker vibe. As I sweep my eyes over the furniture and the neoclassical decoration, Elizabeth's words in that wretched letter come up to the surface of my brain...

This will always be your home in more ways than one.

I scoff at the memory of those words. This house seems to be more of a bloody curse than anything else. And I'll be damned if I spend another night in here.

Willing my body to move, I open my bedside table grabbing everything I can. Most of my clothes and underwear are inside in no more than five minutes. As well as that fucking piece of paper too.