Chapter 42
Hess
Camila was quiet last night after the court hearing.
I gave her space to work out speaking to her father for the first time, not because I’m unfeeling, but because I know my wife.
Independence is a core part of who Camila is. She defines herself by being capable and self-sufficient. Giving her space allows her to process things in a way that still feels hers, not dictated or influenced by me.
Knowing all this about her didn’t make hearing her discreetly cry in the bathroom any easier. I wanted to break down the door and hold her in my arms, but I had to be patient.
It may take a few days, but eventually, she’ll let me in.
That’s why I’m not surprised this morning when she drops her suitcase by the front door and looks at me with guilt in her eyes.
She steps forward, placing a stack of papers on the kitchen table in front of me.
I continue sipping my coffee, not even bothering to glance at the packet. “You slept late. I can make you breakfast or lunch, depending on what you want.”
“Hess”—her eyes flicker to the table—“those are divorce papers.”
“For who?”
“For us.”
I’ll admit, my first reaction is hurt, but then I quickly remind myself that this has nothing to do with us or how Camila feels about me, and everything to do with the encounter with her father. So I keep my expression even and stare back at her.
“So you want a divorce?”
Turmoil glazes her eyes with tears. “Something happened inside me yesterday. I don’t know if it was seeing Glen for the first time after so many years or the way he dismissed me, but it triggered something.”
“That’s understandable. You have every right to be triggered by him. He triggered me. I wanted to punch him in the face.”
“Me too.” Her lips lift a little, a good sign. “But it’s not just Glen. I mean, it started with him. Seeing him conjured up all my old fears and trust issues, but there’s more.”
“Okay.” I leave enough space for her to safely open up on her own terms.
“Through Glen’s eyes, I saw myself for what I really am. Someone who manipulates people and uses them for personal gain.” Her voice cracks as fresh moisture clouds her eyes. “And it kills me to know that no matter how much I care for you, I can’t be trusted not to hurt you.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“But you can’t.” She shakes her head. “Nobody can. No one, not even me. I can’t guarantee I won’t eventually run.”
“I love you. I don’t need a guarantee.”
“You shouldn’t love me. If you take your blinders off, you’ll see I’m not wife material.
I’m not what you want. I’m not like your mom.
I don’t fit the mold, and honestly, I don’t even believe in the traditional mold where the woman handles childcare, the cooking, and the house while the men are the providers. It’s just how I’m built.”
“Have I ever made you shrink into a ‘wife’ role?”
“No, but eventually, you’ll resent me when I don’t meet expectations.”
“You can’t just assume things about how I’ll eventually feel. I’m not looking for a homemaker. I’m looking for a partner who will rewrite the roles inside our relationship with me.”
“Maybe I just like my independence too much.”
“I promise I’m not trying to take anything from you. I just want to add to your happiness.”
“You do add to my happiness, but I don’t add to yours. And that’s not fair to you. You need someone who will do kind things for you the way you do them for me, and I’m not that person. I’m not thoughtful and soft.”
I smile a little. “I don’t need that. I like taking care of you.”
“I don’t know. Nothing makes sense.” She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head back and forth. “I can’t even make sense of how I’m feeling.”
I stand and walk toward her, slowly pulling her hands down from her face. “You don’t have to make sense of it all right now.”
Her shoulders lift and fall in defeat. “I just know I’m broken, and I can’t explain why.”
“You’re not broken to me.”
“But I am!” She throws her arms out. “I led you on.”
“You didn’t lead me on.”
“Yes, I did. Two weeks ago, I let us cross a physical line. I promised you that I was sure, and now I’m taking it all back.” Tears fall, gracefully rolling down her cheeks. “Who does that? Who hurts the person they love like that?”
Camila has never told me she loves me. I haven’t needed her to say those words out loud because I’ve felt her love in other ways, but the fact that she let it slip now gives me enough confidence to sit back while she works through these feelings on her own.
“Camila, I’m not hurt. And I don’t regret a single moment with you.”
“I just…I thought I was sure when we did that, and now, everything is messed up.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Seeing Glen reminded me that none of this is real. We’ve been living in this happy bubble, but it’s not real life.”
“Everything between us is real to me. I’ve been one hundred percent honest and genuine with you.”
“Maybe I haven’t. Maybe I’m not capable of being honest with my feelings. I thought I was over all my trust issues, but seeing Glen messed me up. I can’t explain it because I don’t even understand it.”
Her words come out laced with heartache, and I wish I could relieve her of this pain, but I can’t. Camila has to face it on her own.
“Hold on,” I say, turning and running into the living room.
“Where are you going?”
“Just hold on.” I lift a loose stone on the hearth and grab a red velvet box from the hiding place, cupping it in my hand as I rush back to her.
“I got this for you before Selena’s wedding.
” I open the box, showing a simple gold band with a tasteful oval diamond.
I slip the ring on her finger. “I don’t even know what you say in a situation like this.
” I look up at her, a soft smile on my face.
“I want to stay married to you. I promise I can handle whatever life throws at us—whatever scares you. I know we can get through it together.”
Her lips tremble. “I am scared.”
“Take the time you need to figure things out. I’ll be here when you’re ready, when it doesn’t feel so daunting.”
“I don’t know how to figure it out. Nobody ever taught me.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“And maybe you’re giving me too much credit.” She slides the ring off her finger, picks up my hand, flips it over, and places the ring in my palm. “I’m sorry.”
I smile back at her. “You don’t ever have to be sorry.”
More tears fall as a puff of laughter drifts over her lips. “This is why it’s so hard to leave you. You’re so good and loving. Thank you for always being the man I needed you to be.”
She leans in close and kisses me on the cheek then turns to go.
Harvey stops her at the door, wagging his tail like he always does. She rubs his head before picking up her bags and walking out the door.
I watch her drive away, feeling the pain of loss even though I know this isn’t really the end.
I’m not letting her run from us. I’ll give Camila a few hours before I go after her, because I know this isn’t what she really wants.
“Don’t worry, Harvey.” He looks from the door at me. “She’ll be back.”