Chapter 23
The late morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Camille’s living room, washing everything in a soft gold glow.
Aaron stepped inside just after nine, and something in her chest eased at the sight of him.
He had dropped Madison off at school only minutes before.
There was something deeply grounding about that—about the ordinariness of it.
School drop-offs. Morning visits. It stood in gentle contrast to the whirlwind they had just come out of—publicity, interviews, wedding plans that still sometimes felt too good to be real.
They had both agreed—they would get married sooner rather than later.
A summer wedding.
Of course she loved that. She thrived in warmth—in sunlight, in sea air, in places that felt alive. Wherever they went for their honeymoon would need to be somewhere like that. Barbados had quickly risen to the top of her list, a thought that made her smile even now.
The movie premiere was set for the first Friday of summer.
The wedding—four weeks later in July.
Everything was moving quickly.
Sometimes it felt too good to be true but then she was reminded of God’s good gifts to his children. This relationship with Aaron was His good gift to her. she didn’t deserve it but God in His grace had gifted it to her nonetheless and she would be eternally grateful.
Now Aaron stood in her living room. The last time he had been there…
Her chest tightened just slightly.
The memory came uninvited—his anger, the sharpness of his words, the finality in his voice when he had told her it was over.
The door closing behind him had sounded like something ending for good.
As the unpleasant memories tried to return, she quickly pushed them out of her mind, silently rebuking the enemy, the hater of men’s souls, whom the Bible warns has come to steal, to kill and to destroy.
She reminded herself that Christ came that we may have life, and life more abundantly.
Then his gaze moved across the room. He froze. His mouth fell open. He lifted a hand and pointed. “Hey! That’s me!”
A small, satisfied warmth bloomed in her chest.
The painting dominated the far wall—bold, striking, impossible to miss. But it wasn’t just the likeness. It was what the artist had captured beneath the surface—something steady, something strong, something quietly commanding.
Camille nodded, slipping her fingers through his.
“Alex’s painting. I purchased it months ago.”
She felt his hand in hers, solid and real, and held on just a fraction tighter than necessary.
Aaron stared at it again, amused and slightly bewildered.
“I keep it down here,” she added lightly, though her pulse picked up just a little, “because if I kept it in my bedroom I’d dream about you all night.”
He laughed, turning toward her.
“You act like that’s a bad thing.”
“It is right now.” Her eyes sparkled, but there was truth beneath the playfulness. “After we get married both you and your painting can join me in my bedroom.”
He shook his head, smiling.
“Speaking of which… we need to talk.”
Her stomach dipped.
Not dramatically. Not enough to show. But enough.
He took her hand and guided her toward the couch.
“Uh oh,” she said, only half joking.
Aaron chuckled at her expression.
“It’s nothing to worry about… I hope,” he added, pulling a face.
When she was settled, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, shifting into something more serious.
“Okay. So, Camille… we need to discuss our plans after we get married. Questions like where we will live, if—and how many—more kids we would like to have. Our career plans… especially since we currently have one child.”
Her heart caught on that.
Camille’s eyes lit up before she could stop herself.
“Oh Aaron, you said we have one child,” she said, her voice full of something she couldn’t quite contain. Delight. Gratitude. Wonder.
He nodded easily.
“We do. Madison is now ours, not just mine. You will be her mom, not her stepmom. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Oh yes, Aaron. I would be honored.”
And she meant it more deeply than she could put into words.
He smiled.
“So would I,” he said quietly.
“I interrupted you. What else were you saying?”
He shifted. “I view finances as being important. I have a substantial life insurance policy to protect Madison should anything happen to me. I’m going to include you and increase the amount.”
Camille listened carefully, noting the way he watched her, the seriousness in his tone.
“Do you keep your bank account in the black? What’s your attitude about debt? Will you be transparent in allowing me to know your finances? I will be transparent with you. I’d like for us to have all joint accounts. What are your views on that?”
For a brief moment, everything inside her stilled.
I’d like for us to have all joint accounts.
The words landed deeper than he probably realized.
A memory surfaced—unbidden.
Her father’s voice. His reassurances. The way she had trusted him completely… and how that trust had been broken in ways that had taken her years to understand and even longer to recover from. Money had not just been numbers—it had been control, secrecy, betrayal.
And somewhere in the quiet aftermath of that, Camille had made a vow. Never again. Never again would she place herself in a position where someone else could misuse what was hers. Never again would she give anyone that kind of access. That kind of power.
She had kept that vow carefully. Quietly. Without ever needing to say it out loud. Until now.
Her fingers tightened slightly in her lap as she leaned back, buying herself a moment to think.
Because this wasn’t just about money. This was about marriage. And almost immediately, another thought rose—clearer, steadier, cutting through the instinct to protect herself.
“The two shall become one flesh.” — Genesis 2:24
Marriage wasn’t partial unity. It wasn’t emotional closeness with carefully guarded compartments. It was oneness. Real oneness. And if that was true—if she truly believed what Scripture said—then that oneness had to touch everything.
Even this.
Especially this.
Her gaze lifted to Aaron’s face, still watching her, still waiting.
Another thought followed, just as quietly, but with more weight. If I can’t trust him with this…Then I shouldn’t be marrying him at all.
The realization didn’t frighten her the way it once might have. It steadied her. Because the truth was—she did trust him. Not blindly. Not naively. But fully.
Camille took a moment before answering.
“I have some investments. I don’t mind taking out a life insurance policy to cover any debts if I pass unexpectedly. Yes, I keep my bank account in the black. After what my father did, I became very afraid of debt. I’m a lot more careful than I was years ago.”
She met his eyes steadily now—no hesitation left.
“I will absolutely allow you to know my finances, Aaron. I trust you. Joint accounts are fine with me. As my husband I expect you to do what’s best by me—and we should agree on a set limit where we will consult each other before making a large purchase.”
He nodded, and she felt a quiet sense of rightness settle between them.
“Some people have strong family traditions—like mine,” he continued, moving on. “Would you be willing to spend every major holiday with my family or yours? Would you be willing to take turns? Or would you prefer we have our own holiday celebrations—just the three of us?”
Camille smiled softly, memories flickering through her mind. “My parents always loved Christmas,” she said. “But we usually spent the holidays with friends and other family members rather than just us at home together. It was always at someone else’s house.”
A small pause.
“I like the idea of spending Christmas and Thanksgiving with your family. We can do just us on our birthdays… and Valentine’s Day… and our wedding anniversary.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“Where will we live?”
“I’ll move in with you,” she said easily. There was no hesitation there. “And rent or lease this place. I wouldn’t want Madison to leave the home she loves.”
She saw something shift in his expression—something deeper than simple agreement—and felt quietly glad she had said it.
Then he lifted a finger. “The big one,” he said. “If—and how many—more kids we would like to have.”
Her answer came without effort. Without fear. “Honestly… I wouldn’t mind us having three more children.”
Aaron lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”
She nodded, completely serious. “Yes. But obviously it’s up to God. I’d love three. What about you?”
“My family is that size,” he said. “My parents have four children.” A smile touched his mouth. “I would definitely be in favor of that. But as you said… it’s God’s decision.”
He leaned back. “Okay. Career plans?”
This time, she hesitated. Not out of resistance—but because it was a question she had never truly needed to answer before. “I’m not sure what you mean. I’ve worked all my life.”
Aaron quickly shook his head. “Camille, I don’t want you to think for a moment that I don’t want you to work. That is your decision.”
She watched him closely as he chose his words.
“When children are involved, I think a mother should be home with the child at least the first year of life—to bond. But that’s my opinion. If you don’t share that view, that’s fine. It’s not a non-negotiable.” He smiled reassuringly. “But I want to hear your thoughts.”
She thought carefully before answering. “Well… I haven’t given it any real thought, seeing that I didn’t have to make that decision before.” Her gaze softened. “I love acting. But I believe family comes first.”
She clasped her hands together. “I’ll always choose projects close to home so I won’t be away from my family for long periods. If I find that it’s threatening a growing family, I’ll take a break.”
She held his gaze. “My career is not more important to me than us, Aaron. I promise you.”
She saw it then—the way his shoulders relaxed, the quiet relief in him.
“That’s all I wanted to hear,” he said.