The Princess Stopped Begging for Love, But They Became Desperate to Give Her Everything Chapter 08

The Princess Stopped Begging for Love, But They Became Desperate to Give Her Everything Chapter 08

You brought me into this world?

During the fifteen years I was missing, had you spent even one day being my father?

You raised me?

Everything you’d bought me had been about easing your own guilt, or maybe protecting the Caruso name.

Besides, after coming back, I hadn’t spent any of your money.

The words churned inside me.

But I didn’t say any of them.

There was nothing left to argue about.

“I don’t hate you,” I said. “I just want to live my own life.”

“Your own life? Running around Montana learning useless things and coming home covered in dirt?”

The contempt in Dad’s voice was unmistakable.

He would never respect my choices.

Just like that, I lost the last bit of interest I had in the conversation.

“Take care of yourself.”

I turned again and opened the door.

“Elena! Get back here!”

His furious shout followed me into the hallway, weakened by illness but no less angry.

I kept walking.

A few steps down the hall, I ran into Mom and Isabella hurrying toward the room with an insulated tote.

Both of them stopped when they saw me.

“Elena?”

Mom looked shocked, then delighted.

“When did you get here?”

Isabella’s gaze traveled over me from head to toe.

Surprise flickered briefly in her eyes.

I was wearing a plain T-shirt, jeans, and canvas sneakers.

Years of fieldwork had tanned my skin.

My hair was pulled into a practical ponytail, and I wasn’t wearing any makeup.

Beside them, all polished clothes and flawless makeup, I looked like I’d walked in from another world.

“I just got here. I came to see Dad.”

My tone remained neutral.

“He’s awake. You can go in.”

“You came all this way and didn’t tell us?”

Mom stepped toward me.

“Come on. Go back inside with us. Your father was just asking about you…”

She reached for my hand.

I moved away.

“No. I have things to do, and I need to catch a flight.”

I looked at them.

“I’m leaving.”

“Elena!”

Isabella stopped me.

Concern and confusion settled across Isabella’s face in exactly the right proportions.

“Why are you leaving already? Dad really does miss you…”

“Miss me?”

I cut her off with a faint, humorless smile.

“Does he miss me, or does he miss having me around as the contrast that makes the rest of you look better? Chapter 8

Maybe he wants me back so you can keep being the sweet, accomplished daughter beside the difficult one.”

Isabella’s face went white.

Her eyes immediately filled with tears, as though I had said something unimaginably cruel.

“Elena, how can you say that? I never…”

“Elena! Don’t speak to Isabella like that!”

Mom immediately moved in front of her, her tone sharp with reproach.

There it was.

Always the same.

Nothing had changed.

“Goodbye.”

I turned and walked away.

Behind me came Mom’s anxious voice and Isabella’s tearful attempts to calm her.

None of it mattered anymore.

This time, when I left, I wouldn’t look back.

As soon as I returned to Montana, I threw myself into the project.

Occasionally, I remembered that brief flash in Dad’s eyes at the hospital, or Mom’s and Isabella’s reactions in the hallway.

But work swallowed those thoughts before they could take root.

After finishing my bachelor’s degree, I applied directly to a PhD program in geology and geophysics.

I received a fully funded offer, and my professor strongly encouraged me to accept.

The work mattered.

It was demanding, but it opened doors.

Between my funding package, research assistantship, and project grants, I built a stable life in the city I had chosen, far from New York.

Eventually, I made a down payment on a small house.

It wasn’t large.

But it was mine.

During those years, Mom still called from time to time.

Her voice grew softer with every conversation.

Eventually, there was even something almost pleading in it.