My lips were still tingling. My whole body was still trembling from the force of that kiss. And I hated that even now, even after everything, all I wanted was for him to kiss me again.
But I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
I shoved him away, hard enough that he actually stumbled back a step.
“I’ll f-forget that ever happened.”
I didn’t wait for him to answer, turning to walk away without looking back.
And I kept walking, kept my head up, my shoulders straight.
Just a few steps more, a few steps more—
Finally.
The moment I made it to my room and locked the door behind me, I sank to the floor and just let everything go.
H-How could he have kissed me when he wanted to marry someone else?
How could he want to spend his life with another woman b-but kiss me like I was the only thing he wanted in the world?
And why couldn’t he just choose...me?
I could still taste him on my lips. Still feel the bruising pressure of his mouth, the desperate grip of his hands. And even as I cried, even as my heart shattered into a thousand pieces, my body was still burning for him.
If only he would just let me go. If only he would stop giving me hope only to crush it again. If only I could make myself stop wanting him.
The tears kept coming, hot and relentless, soaking into my sleeve as I pressed it against my face.
I had told myself I wouldn’t break.
I had promised myself I would be strong.
But as I sat there on the cold floor of my dormitory room, crying so hard my whole body shook, I realized that I had already broken a long time ago.
The moment I fell in love with him.
And maybe that was the cruelest fairy tale of all—not the princess who slept for a hundred years, but the one who woke up only to discover that her prince had never been hers to begin with.
