Our Forbidden Love

XVI - My Dearest

Cataryna's POV

The day seemed to drag on in a way I hadn't expected. Maybe it was the overwhelming sense of adjustment, the slow process of adapting to this new environment, a place that would be my home for the next four years. I kept thinking back to my old life, my father's constant care, and the weight of everything that had changed.

I absentmindedly spread strawberry jam on a piece of toast as I spoke to my dad through the phone, my thoughts still drifting between homesickness and the pressures of university life.

"Dad, I swear I eat just in time," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "I don't want to get stomach pains again like before. How's the house, though?"

"It's a little lonelier than usual," he replied. "Just feels kind of empty without you here."

And there it was—his genuine fatherly love, as always. It made my heart ache, the warmth in his voice reminding me of everything I left behind.

"Hi, Uncle Dudley!" Harriet's voice suddenly broke through, as she realized I was on the phone.

I raised an eyebrow at her, a little surprised by her casual greeting.

"Harriet, has Cat been dating there?" My father asked, and I nearly choked on my toast as I widened my eyes in embarrassment.

Harriet grinned and threw me a playful glance. "Yes, she's been dating ten books about Psychology," she teased, waving goodbye as she grabbed her study materials. I blew her a kiss, and she shut the door behind her with a gentle click.

"That better be true, buttercream," my dad retorted with a laugh, and I could feel the tears threatening to come up.

I quickly bit my lip, trying to push them down. I missed home so much. I missed the small, simple things. Like hearing him call me "little one." Like knowing he was always thinking about me. He had no one but me, and I had no one but him. He'd raised me alone, after everything, and I just wanted to make him proud, make him feel like his sacrifices had been worth something.

"Oh, I have to go now," he said, his voice shifting to a more serious tone. "My work starts in ten minutes. Please always take care of yourself, little one."

"Love you, Papa," I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady, not wanting him to know how close I was to crying.

"Love you too, sweetie." And then the call ended.

I sat there, still holding the phone in my hand, staring at nothing, as the tears finally came. I let them fall freely, pressing my knees to my chest, sitting on the cold kitchen floor like I was a child again. I hated how an ounce of affection could unravel me so completely. Why did it hurt so much to be loved? To miss someone?

I felt so small. So lost.

After a while, I wiped my face and, without thinking, changed into a comfortable sweater and baggy pants. I glanced at my timetable, thankful for the space between classes. I had four hours before the next one started.

The weather was calling me outside, so I decided to walk to the nearby park.

It looked perfect for a stroll, but as soon as I got there, I realized I'd made a mistake. The sun was unforgiving, and I felt like I was melting into the concrete. I was drenched in sweat, cursing myself for not wearing something more breathable. I should've gone with a crop top.

But after a few minutes, the sky seemed to cool, and the heat was bearable again. The grass didn't feel so hot underfoot, so I found a spot to lie down, close my eyes, and let the music take me somewhere else.

I smiled as I hit play on the playlist my girlfriend had made for me the night before. It was the kind of music that always brought me peace—her choice of songs, somehow both comforting and uplifting, like she was still right there with me.