The Princess Stopped Begging for Love, But They Became Desperate to Give Her Everything Chapter 05

The Princess Stopped Begging for Love, But They Became Desperate to Give Her Everything Chapter 05

I flew west the next morning.

After landing, I spent several more hours on a shuttle to the college town where Canyon Ridge University was located.

I slept better during that trip than I had in years.

No polished image to maintain.

No faces to read before I spoke.

No suffocating sense that I was standing in the wrong room.

I was simply a college student.

When I arrived, the sky seemed enormous and brilliantly blue.

The air was dry and smelled faintly of sun-warmed earth.

The town was nothing like New York.

The streets were wide, and people seemed to move at an easier pace.

I loved it immediately.

I followed the directions I’d saved and found the apartment I’d rented online.

It was a small one-bedroom unit in an older building.

The furniture was basic, but everything was clean, neat, and flooded with sunlight.

I set down my suitcase and opened the window.

In the courtyard below, someone was walking a dog while children raced each other on bicycles.

This was what life was supposed to feel like.

After getting settled, I went to campus to finish check-in and registration.

My housing exemption had already been approved, so I didn’t need to live in a dorm.

And just like that, college began.

The geology program was even more demanding than I had expected.

There was a tremendous amount of coursework and constant field training.

I loved every second of it.

Every day, I carried a heavy field pack across miles of rough terrain with my professors and classmates, identifying rocks and measuring stratigraphic sections.

My skin grew darker from the sun.

Thin calluses formed across my palms.

I came home bone-tired.

But I had never felt more fulfilled.

No one here knew I was the younger daughter of the Caruso family.

No one watched me with those subtle, measuring looks.

No one compared me to Isabella.

I was simply a hardworking student who didn’t talk much and always took her work seriously.

I got along with my classmates without getting particularly close to anyone.

Sometimes we ate together or saved each other seats in class, but we stayed out of one another’s personal lives.

During my free time, I found a tutoring job helping a middle school student with math.

The pay wasn’t impressive, but it covered my rent and basic expenses.

For the first time, my life truly belonged to me.

Mom called a few times.

She asked whether I had enough money and whether I was adjusting well.

She sounded tentative, almost careful with me.

My answers were always brief.

“I have enough.”

“I’m doing fine.”

“Everything’s good.”

She never seemed to know what to say after that.

Usually there would be a short silence before she said, “All right, then. Take care of yourself.”

“Okay.”

And the call would end.

It was strange.

In my previous life, I’d called every few days until my need for her attention wore on her patience.

Now that I never called, she was the one reaching out.

Dad never called once.

Isabella followed me on Instagram.

Every so often, she posted pictures from home, dinners out, or whichever trip she happened to be on.

I knew at least some of it was meant for me to see.

I simply scrolled past.

That house already felt very far away.

I didn’t go back during my first winter break.

My academic adviser seemed surprised.

“Elena, you’re not going home for Christmas?”

“My family lives pretty far away, so traveling back and forth isn’t practical. I thought I’d stay here, catch up on reading, and pick up some extra work.”

It was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

She accepted it without question.

On Christmas Eve, I made myself a simple dinner.

Outside my window, Christmas lights slowly came on throughout the neighborhood.

My apartment was quiet.

An old movie played on television.

I saw a new post from Isabella.

She and my parents had taken a family Christmas photo, then gone to dinner at a private club in Manhattan.

I didn’t feel lonely.

I would rather spend Christmas peacefully by myself than sit in that crowded, glittering mansion feeling like

a stranger.

My phone buzzed several times.

Mom and Isabella had both sent Christmas wishes and money transfers.

Elena: [Thanks. Merry Christmas.]

I declined the money.

During the second semester of my freshman year, one of my professors invited me to join a small regional geology field project.

We traveled into a more remote part of the mountains.

Conditions were rough.

We stayed at a field station outside a small town, and cell service came and went without warning.

I was completely absorbed in the work.

I loved it.

One evening, I had just come down from the mountains when my phone found a sliver of service and started buzzing at once.

It was Mom.

I walked to a spot where reception was slightly better and answered.

“Hello?”

“Elena! You finally picked up!”

There was an urgency in her voice she was trying not to show.

“You haven’t answered your phone in so long. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m at a field site. The reception is bad.”

My tone remained flat.

“Oh. Fieldwork.”

She paused.

“That must be exhausting. Are you… are you doing okay?” ”

“I’m fine.”

“Your dad…”

She stopped.

I stayed silent.