Chapter 17: When pride breaks
924 Words
Elena didn’t know how far she had walked.
The campus blurred around her—voices, footsteps, laughter—it all sounded distant, like it didn’t belong to her world anymore.
She stopped behind one of the quieter buildings, where the noise finally thinned into nothing.
And then—
So did she.
Her shoulders dropped.
Her breath hitched.
And just like that, the composure she had been holding onto so tightly… cracked.
“…Stupid,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “This is so stupid.”
Her vision blurred, tears gathering faster than she could stop them. She pressed a hand to her face, trying to hold it together.
It didn’t work.
Because it wasn’t just rejection.
It was the way he said it.
Calm. Certain. Unmoved.
Like she had never really been an option.
A shaky breath escaped her, and then another—
And suddenly, she couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Hey.”
The voice startled her.
Elena turned quickly, wiping at her face—too late.
Camilla stood a few steps away, hands tucked into her jacket, expression softer than usual.
Not sharp.
Not sarcastic.
Just… understanding.
“…What do you want?” Elena asked, her voice rough, defensive out of habit.
Camilla tilted her head slightly. “Right now? For you to not pretend you’re fine.”
Elena scoffed weakly. “I’m not—”
“You’re crying behind a building,” Camilla cut in gently. “Let’s not do the denial thing.”
That should’ve annoyed her.
Normally, it would have.
But right now—
Elena didn’t have the energy to argue.
She looked away instead, biting down on her lip.
“…You saw,” she muttered.
“Yeah,” Camilla said. “Hard not to.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment.
Then Camilla stepped closer—slow enough not to feel intrusive—and leaned lightly against the wall nearby.
“For what it’s worth,” she added, “that looked like it hurt.”
Elena let out a shaky laugh, tears slipping again despite her efforts.
“That obvious?”
“Very.”
Another pause.
Then—
“I don’t understand,” Elena admitted, her voice quieter now. “I did everything right.”
That caught Camilla’s attention.
“Elaborate,” she said.
Elena wiped at her face again, frustrated.
“I played my role. I followed what was expected. I tried to be… what he would want.” Her voice cracked slightly. “And it still didn’t matter.”
Camilla watched her carefully.
Then shook her head a little.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “That’s kind of the problem.”
Elena frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You tried to be what he would want,” Camilla repeated. “Not who you actually are.”
Elena went still.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” Camilla said, not harshly, just… honestly. “And people can feel that. Especially someone like him.”
Elena looked down at her hands.
“…So what, I was just… wrong?”
“No,” Camilla said quickly. “You weren’t wrong for liking him.”
A small pause.
“But you might’ve been wrong for thinking that liking him meant he’d choose you.”
That one stung.
But not in the same way as before.
This time—
It felt real.
Elena exhaled slowly, her anger fading into something heavier.
“…I really thought…” she started, then stopped, shaking her head.
Camilla didn’t push.
Didn’t rush her.
Just waited.
“I thought if I tried hard enough,” Elena continued quietly, “it would mean something.”
Camilla’s expression softened.
“It does mean something,” she said. “Just… not always in the way we want.”
Silence settled again.
But this one wasn’t sharp.
It was… quieter.
Safer.
Elena wiped the last of her tears, her breathing finally starting to steady.
“…You’re not as annoying as I thought,” she muttered.
Camilla snorted lightly. “Don’t get used to it.”
A small, unexpected smile tugged at Elena’s lips.
Faint.
Fragile.
But real.
Then her expression shifted again—less broken now, more… thoughtful.
“…He chose him so easily,” she said.
Camilla followed her gaze out toward the open campus.
“Yeah,” she said. “He did.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed slightly—not in anger, but in understanding.
“…What does he have?” she asked quietly.
Camilla smiled a little.
“Nothing you don’t,” she said.
Elena frowned. “That’s not helpful.”
Camilla pushed off the wall, turning to face her fully now.
“He just didn’t try to be anything else,” she added.
That landed.
Deep.
Elena looked down again, absorbing that.
And for the first time—
It didn’t feel like something she needed to fight.
It felt like something she needed to understand.
A slow breath left her.
“…I hate this,” she admitted.
Camilla shrugged lightly. “Yeah. It’s kind of part of it.”
Another small pause.
Then Elena straightened slightly, her usual composure beginning to return—not forced this time, but rebuilt.
“…I’m not going to chase him anymore,” she said.
Camilla nodded. “Good.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’ll just disappear.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Elena glanced at her.
“…You’re strangely supportive.”
Camilla smirked. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
That earned a quiet, genuine laugh from Elena.
Short.
But enough.
- Writer
