❝We often hurt the ones we love the most❞

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

TW: descriptions of eating disorders

Rain poured down around the couple. Although they were protected by large black umbrellas, they were still soaked to the bone. Despite the downpour, a crowd in the hundreds had shown up to see them unveil a statue of Winston Churchill. Screams of "I love you Di!" or "Diana! Over here!" seemed to be coming out of the mouths of everyone around them.

Diana put on the show of waving, smiling, and collecting flowers. Over the past 5 years she really had become a marvelous actress. No matter how miserable she was feeling, she could still plaster a smile on her face and pretend that she and her husband were still madly in love. Linking arms and making sure to smile at one another just enough or kiss each other at the end of a polo match.

The noise of the crowd faded away as they climbed into the car together. After sitting in silence for about 2 minutes, you could feel the tension in the air. "Alright, I know you're mad." Diana confronted her husband, "What did I do this time?"

He scoffed, "Must you be such a narcissist on every outing darling?" he spoke in a sarcastic tone, "I can tell you love it, the screaming, the flowers, the hand shaking. Did you ever stop for a moment to think that maybe they only love you so much because I'm the future King of England." The driver and the bodyguard glanced at one another uncomfortably in the front seat.

She rolled her eyes, after every official engagement it was the same argument. At this point she was so exhausted of it, she didn't even want to debate it with him. "I sense a patter." She spoke in a monotone voice, refusing to look at him.

"Oh? And what is that?"

"After every engagement we seem to have this exact same argument, maybe worded slightly differently."

"Very intuitive of you dear."

She hated it when he did that, when he was condescending to her.

"Which is why..." she turned and glared at him, "I will not be taking part in it."

Charles hated it when she did that. When she made him feel like an ass hole for simply expressing his emotions. She the saint, he the sinner.

He simply rolled his eyes at her childish antics. Scoffing, she looked out the window. Rain danced on the glass, casting the shadow of water droplets onto her cheeks. As if displaying her emotions for her.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

The car screeched to a halt in front of Kensington Palace, The Princesses domain. Highgrove was the princes. As Diana saw it, each home represented their personality. Hers was in the heart of London. Bustling and full of life. It was also very modern, having been remolded years before. Highgrove, however, was the complete opposite. It was the middle of the countryside (conveniently close to the Parker-Bowel's residence Diana had noted) and was surrounded by the gardens Charles seemed to love more than his own wife. The manor itself was old and stuffy, just like the pretensions man that lived in it. The houses themselves were painfully symbolic of the stark differences between the two of them. And served also as a grave reminder of the rift that had grown.

Diana got out of the car; her husband did not follow suit. He was going back to Highgrove and most likely Camilla. Or as Diana referred to her, the rottweiler. She walked into her apartment and locked herself in her bedroom. The Princess began to have tears well up in her eyes. At 25, she often found herself looking back to 5 years ago. To the young, naïve 19-year-old who agreed to marry the future king of England. She really hadn't known what she was getting herself into. But how can you say no to a prince?

She found herself going to the kitchen. The chefs were used to her coming down there by now. At first, they found it odd, but after a while they grew accustomed to it. She asked for the leftovers from the previous night's dinner which they provided her with. They pretended not to stare as she ate most of it.

She was not stupid. She knew the staff gossiped. They stood in doorways, whispering in low voices, hoping they wouldn't get caught. Gossip here was about as valuable as cigarettes in a jail cell. When she was first engaged, they were very confused how she seemed to eat so much but stay so thin. But it seemed to be common knowledge now within the palace walls that the princess was bulimic. The tabloids didn't suspect anything though. Charles knew, not that he cared. He occasionally made comments about how thin she had become, most of which she ignored.

After she finished, she went to the bathroom and threw up. She sat against the bathroom wall and let tears run down her cheeks. Bringing her legs into her chest, she silently sobbed. Knowing this was the kind of gossip the servants loved to whisper about.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Arriving at Highgrove, Charles immediately went to his office and locked the door, instructing his staff not to bother him. He picked up his phone and dialed the number his fingers knew the phone number so well, he could have dialed it in the dark.

After only two rings, she picked up. "Camilla Parker-Bowels speaking." Just hearing her voice seemed to relieve some of the pressure from the past few days.

"Darling, its lovely to hear your voice."

"I can say the same. When was the last time we spoke? It seems like ages ago."

Although they tried to call on a daily biases, his schedule didn't always permit it. "I think it's been almost three days." he said sadly.

"Three days of hell." They both laughed.

"So..." he twirled the phone cord between his fingers, "on Friday I have a lunch from 12 to 2 but nothing after. Are you free then?"

He heard paper shuffling from the other end of the line as she looked at her schedule, "Yes, I am free then."

"Prefect, I looked forward to it darling, it's been too long. Why don't you come over here. Diana has been getting very paranoid lately." He sighed. From day one Diana seemed to know there was something between them. Perhaps they should have done a better job of keeping it a secret but after she found that bracelet, she never trusted him again. Whenever he went to a friend's house for the weekend she would get hysterical and throw a tantrum. Even if he wasn't seeing Camilla. It was like he had married a child. She was only 19, he thought. But even after 5 years she hadn't grown up.

"Yes of course love. Can you call tomorrow?" She asked.

"I will try my best. But goodbye love."

"Goodbye." There was a click as she hung up. He still pressed his ear to the phone, hoping he still might be able to hear her voice, but nothing.

Finally, he put the phone down. He could hardly wait till Friday. Men had mistresses and the wives played dumb. But they knew. That is how things worked, that is how things have always worked and how they would continue to work.

Fairytales are make believe, child's play. Reality is much darker.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

AN:
I know this was a surprise chapter and I said I wouldn't start updating till November but I couldn't wait! This story has just been bouncing around in my head and I needed to write it down! I will try to update next week!