Page 147 of Hawthorne

“Please, don’t do this here.” Camilla’s voice comes out shaky, barely audible.

If it weren’t for the proximity, I would think I was imagining it as she keeps avoiding directing her attention to me. Her eyes keep swirling to our surroundings, probably focusing on all the blurry faces witnessing our dance.

“I have to,” I answer in the same low tone. “It’s my only chance.”

“This is no chance. You had one,” she grits. “And you threw it out the window.”Ouch.

I threw my chance out the window the moment I gave in to my mother’s blackmail.

If only I knew...

“Darling, I am not proud of what happened.”God knows I am not. “I regret it deeply, but it was the only way to protect you.”

The confession rolls off my tongue easily. Ever since she left the manor, every day, I have wanted to go to her and tell the entire truth. Let her choose what she could or could not face.

If she had chosen me, too, how would things have been?

But how could I ask that of her when I didn’t choose to stay with her in the first place?

“What the hell does that even mean?” she hisses, losing her composure for a split second.

Her eyes widen as something flashes through them, right after she goes back to her stoic self, sobering up.

I have never seen Camilla this self-aware. But it’s good because it’s exactly how a queen should be: aware of herself and her surroundings, aware that one wrong move or word can give the world power over them.

And while I don’t know if this was my Aunt Lizzie’s work or the time she has spent here has taught her something, it makes me proud that she…is adapting well.

And this is where we are different. I would never have kept my composure in a moment like this. If I were in her place, I’d wantblood.

“My mother blackmailed me,” I admit. “There were several explicit pictures of us…together. If I hadn’t let her do as she wished, she would leak it. I couldn’t let that happen, I–”

I stop myself, unable to continue, and she squeezes my hand, forcing me to look at her. For the first time, she’s looking straight back at me, and everything shifts.

It shifts inside me, the euphoria of finally being able to watch her properly. But especially when I notice a sliver of understanding finally finding its way to her face.

“You what?” she presses.

“I couldn’t let her do that to you.Ineededto protect you.”

Without thinking, with the need for more, my left hand lowers, pressing on the small of her back and bringing her closer to me. Her back tenses, but she complies, keeping with the classic rhythm as if nothing happened.

Her face seems pensive, far away from the present, so I take advantage to continue, “Iknowyou. Having the paparazzi hunting you down like prey, your life, your privacy...Not to mention you’d have been bashed as a gold-digger.” I pause,studying her reactions. When none comes, I continue, “Just imagining it was incapacitating. I’d rather lose you than hurt you that way…”

Camilla scoffs, “Isn’t that cute?”

“It’s what I felt then, I—”

“How about being honest with me and letting me choose what I wanted to go through?” She cuts me off. “Maybe, just maybe…I would have been willing to go through hell and back for you. I would have chosen to be with you.”

Fuck.

“Camilla, this world is ruthless. It would never matter how wrong the public opinion was, you’d never get rid of that stain. It could cost you a lot in life. I didn’t think it was worth risking it.”

“You were worth risking it for me,” she mutters, the words piercing through me like a sharp blade. “Instead, you made me feel unworthy of you, and you took from me a choice that was only mine to make.”

I was inconsiderate, thinking on her behalf. Even if I meant well, I ended up breaking us apart and hurting her past the point of forgiveness. Knowing she was willing to go through all of it for me, and I didn’t even give her the chance makes the tiny ember of hope I had inside extinguish itself.

I didn’t ruin my life. I detonated it.

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