14. Camille
— ? —
Camille
My mother’s voicemail is almost incoherent.
“Camille - call me back - the baby - they did a paternity test - Alexis applied for child support from Jared’s remaining assets, and his lawyer demanded proof of paternity before any money could be released, and it’s not his - the baby isn’t his - Alexis was sleeping with someone else too - a married man from the firm - he wants nothing to do with her - she’s all alone-”
The message dissolves into sobs.
I listen to it three times.
Then I set my phone down and stare at the wall.
***
“She was cheating on the man she was cheating with,” Nathan says when I tell him. “That’s almost impressive in its awfulness.”
“Apparently, she was sleeping with multiple people at the firm. The real father is a married colleague who has no intention of leaving his wife and wants nothing to do with Alexis or the baby.”
“So Jared destroyed his marriage, his career, and his freedom for a woman who was lying to him the entire time?”
“Seems that way.”
Nathan lets out a low whistle. “Karma’s a bitch.”
“Yeah.” I should feel satisfied. Vindicated. Something. Instead, I just feel tired. “My mother wanted me to call her. I think she expects me to come rushing back now that Alexis is alone.”
“Are you going to?”
“No.” The word comes out easily. Certainly. “I’m done rescuing people who only want me around when they need something. Alexis made her choices. She can live with the consequences.”
“And your mother?”
“Same applies.” I settle into his side, letting his steadiness anchor me. “The people who actually love me - who were there for me when everything fell apart - they’re my family now. Maya. Diane. You.”
“In that order?”
“You might have moved up a spot recently.”
He grins. “I’ll take it.”
***
Two days later, Alexis calls.
I answer, against my better judgment.
“Please, Camille.” Her voice is wrecked, barely recognizable. “I’ve got nobody left. Mom and Dad won’t even speak to me after this. Jared’s in prison and his family found out the baby isn’t his - they’re done with me. I don’t know what to do-”
I listen. For a long moment, I don’t say anything.
“Eight months ago,” I finally say, “you looked me in the eye at family dinners while you were fucking my husband. You laughed about how ‘clueless’ I was in your text messages. You sat in Mom’s living room and told me to be ‘mature’ about you carrying his baby.”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry-”
“I’m not the person you call anymore, Alexis.” My voice is calm. Clear. Final. “You made sure of that.”
I hang up.
Block her number.
And then I sit down on the couch and cry, not for her, not for the family I’ve lost, but for the sister I thought I had. The one who braided my hair when we were kids. The one I taught to ride a bike. The one I believed in, championed, defended against anyone who doubted her.
That sister never really existed. I was just too blind to see it.
***
Nathan finds me on the couch an hour later, tear tracks drying on my cheeks.
He doesn’t ask what happened. Just sits down beside me, pulls me into his arms, and holds on.
“I thought I’d feel satisfied,” I admit against his shoulder. “Vindicated. The baby isn’t even his - everything she destroyed, everything she took from me, it was all for nothing. She didn’t even love him.”
“How do you feel?”
“Tired. Done. I don’t want to think about them anymore.” I pull back to look at him. “I want to think about us. About our future. About building something that actually matters.”
Something shifts in his expression. A decision made.
“Funny you should say that.”
He takes my hands.
“I was going to wait. I had a whole plan - dinner at the restaurant where we had our first real date, roses, a speech I’ve been practicing for weeks.
” He laughs softly. “But then you answered that call, and you were so strong, so sure of who you are now, and I thought - why am I waiting? What am I waiting for?”
He reaches into his pocket.
“Camille. I’ve loved you for five years. I’ll love you for fifty more. I don’t want to spend another day without you knowing that you’re it for me. The only one. Forever.”
He opens the box.
The ring is simple. Elegant. A delicate band with a single diamond that catches the light like a promise. Nothing like the flashy rock Jared gave me, nothing performative or ostentatious. Just beautiful.
Like us.
“Marry me,” Nathan says. “Not because we have something to prove. Not because of what we survived. Because I want to wake up next to you every day for the rest of my life. Because you’re my home. Because I can’t imagine existing in a world where you’re not mine.”
I’m crying again. But these tears feel different.
“Yes.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. A thousand times yes.”
He slides the ring on my finger. It fits perfectly.
Then he’s kissing me, pulling me onto his lap, murmuring “I love you” against my lips over and over until the words blur together into something that sounds like a prayer.
“When?” I ask when we finally break apart, breathless. “When do you want to do this?”
“Tomorrow. Next week. Yesterday, if time travel is on the table.” He cups my face in his hands. “I don’t care about a big wedding. I don’t care about impressing anyone. I just care about you being my wife.”
“I have an idea.”
“Tell me.”
I smile. “Have you ever been to the beach?”