The Life of a Princess

Chapter 32 - Not Drunk But Absolutely Furious

Home never felt as far away as it did now.

When I walked into my old room, the hastily packed suitcase in Gemma's tow, I felt like a stranger in my own house. I had completely forgotten how cold this room was. Just big with too much space for one person.

The bed was perfectly made, the floor void of any type of mess, tables and chairs were standing excellently according to the décor. It all felt so forged as if a person didn't live there. I hadn't even noticed it before, but the personalized room I had been occupying lately made me feel so...real, compared to this.

"Well, welcome home then," Gemma sighed, pulling my luggage into my closet to start unpacking. I threw myself onto my bed and huffed.

"Thanks."

The ceiling looked the same as it always had been. Swirls of paint making baby angels and clouds on a fake sky. When I was little, I'd always look up and think that that was where I was going when I died. Now, however, I slept on my stomach.

Gemma didn't start a conversation and neither did I, so the room was silent except for my slow breaths. The flight had lasted forever, yet not the same kind of forever as last time. This time I couldn't stop thinking. About everything: me, the people back in America. I didn't even touch the little TV in front of me for entertainment, and neither did I take up a book from my bag. I sat quietly, staring straight ahead and just thinking about everything that had just happened. Not even two days ago, I wasn't supposed to go home until Christmas time. Nevertheless, things changed and there I was, on my way to England.

When my maid was done unpacking, she exited quietly and left me alone. Although, that didn't last very long, because suddenly Edward was sitting at the edge of my bed, fiddling with his hands. He hadn't come and met me at the airport, and even though how silly it sounded, it actually hurt.

"Hey," he said quietly, turning his head to look at me. My eyes continued staring at the ceiling and my mouth kept quiet. "How are you?"

I scoffed lowly and smiled to myself. "How do you think I am?"

Edwards chuckled airily, "I don't know."

"I'm pissed," I admitted. "Not drunk but absolutely furious." And even though how angry my words sounded, my voice kept the same level all the time.

"I'm sorry."

At this I sat up, staring him dead in the eye. "This place is hell. Over there, I finally felt like I somehow belonged. Here? I'm just not cut out for this life!" Finally my voice raised, startling both him and Mum who had entered.

"Hello, Honey," she cooed, smiling warmly at me.

"What?" I sneered and glared at her.

"No need to be rude. I was just coming to check up on you," she sat down next to me and stroked my hair.

"I'm perfect, thank you," I snapped and pushed her hand away. "And just because you sent me away for a while doesn't mean I don't mean what I said before."

She furrowed her brows and looked at me curiously. Of course she forgot, or pretended to. That was what she did. If people thought she forgot, it automatically didn't happen. Not my case, though. I'd gladly remind her.

"I said that this is a hell hole and fuck you!"

My mother gasped and held her hand to her chest. "Sophia!"

"Yeah, I said it – again!" My laughter sounded crazy and Edward looked as uncomfortable as I had ever seen him. "And I still hate this place, my title and everything that comes with it! I want to go home!"