Chapter 28 #2
I shift again, this time turning to leave.
Kenneth sighs, almost regretful. “The end of the evening,” he says. “That’s as long as we’ll wait. After that, we’re moving forward without you.”
He claps a hand lightly on my shoulder as they both step past me. “Think carefully. The choice is yours.”
My breath is shallow as I snatch a glass of champagne from a passing server, throwing it back in one swallow. Paris. Power. My own legacy. None of it matters without Cameron.
I push my way through the crowd like time is slipping through my fingers. Because it is. Cameron senses me before he sees me, and he grips his glass of water tightly. But he doesn’t turn to face me.
“Cam,” I plead softly, stopping a metre away. “Please. Please, just talk to me.”
Silence.
Julian lingers behind me, then takes a few steps forward just enough to be heard.
“For what it’s worth, Cameron,” he says gently.
“I’m not blind to the person Gregg is and who he can be.
But I’m also not blind to the fact that since he’s met you…
” He pauses. “You gave him his light back. You did that.”
Cameron swallows and lowers his head.
“I think,” he continues, “the only things worth choosing are the ones that frighten you a bit.”
Julian gives my shoulder a squeeze and steps back into the activity.
I take a step closer to Cameron.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words cracking the moment they leave my lips. “I’m sorry for tonight. I should’ve been there to protect you from her. From anyone who made you feel like you didn’t belong.”
“Gregg.” He finally turns to look at me. He has been crying, hiding in this corner with red eyes. But he speaks with steadiness in a way that he’s already decided something painful. “I think I realized tonight that we live in different worlds.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t mean—”
“It does,” he cuts in, looking around. “Your family, your investors, your future. This is your life, and I don’t fit into it without having to be… explained.”
Explained. That hits me like a ton.
“You shouldn’t have to shrink for me,” he continues quietly. “Or fight everyone who’s ever cared about you just to keep me by your side.”
I step closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. Close enough to risk everything. “Then don’t ask me to choose.”
He looks at me the way he did back in the garden, like he’s trying to memorize my face. “I choose me.” I sigh as weight shifts off me. “All of me. And that self chooses you. It chooses us.”
His breath hitches.
“I don’t care about career prospects,” I go on, my voice gaining strength. “Or society, or expectations. I care about you, and what we could be.”
Cameron shakes his head as he hangs it low. “You don’t know what it costs,” he whispers.
“Then why can’t we figure it out together?”
“Because I can’t be the reason you give up everything. I know what I said, that I’d be patient. But this is too much. I’m afraid you’d resent me.”
I reach for his hand as a sharp clink slices through the air deliberately.
Another.
Then another.
They cut through the music and laughter like a command from above. Conversations stall mid-sentence and heads turn toward the sound instinctively. Silence spreads in ripples, and I curse myself at allowing my stomach to drop. I don’t have to look to know who it is.
Clink. Slower now.
Clink. Resolved and patient.
The crowd’s attention settles, glasses are lowered, and smiles fix into polite observation. I turn around.
Celeste stands at the center of the terrace, champagne flute raised, posture immaculate. She wears a smile that’s meant to convey warmth and pride, but I see through the facade to its insidiousness. “May I have everyone’s attention?” she calls out, her voice bright and ringing.
Every instinct in me begins to scream, and I feel Cameron’s hand brush against mine. I swallow hard. Whatever she is about to say, I already know. I know with bone-deep certainty that I am about to be robbed of my own story.
“Celeste…” I announce with suggestive hesitance, but loud enough to ring across the silence, parting the crowd.
She lifts her glass a little higher, her eyes shining as she smiles across the terrace at me. To anyone else they’d think that this was love distilled into ceremony.
“Thank you,” she begins warmly. “Truly, thank you all for being here tonight.”
A soft murmur ripples through the crowd.
“Because tonight, we are celebrating something extraordinary,” she continues.
“A vision brought to life. A reimagining of luxury living in the heart of London. Elegant, intentional, and fearless.” She turns then, her gaze locking onto mine.
“Greggory Harwell, has poured his heart and soul into this project. His taste, his discipline, and his refusal to accept mediocrity.”
Polite applause follows, and I force an uneasy smile and nod with acknowledgment, all while my hands hang numb at my sides.
“My dearest Greggory, I have never been more proud of you,” she affirms, her voice softening. “And, you know, I have loved you for a very long time. Long enough to believe, perhaps foolishly, that tonight may be something more than this small celebration.”
My chest grows incredibly tight and my stomach twists into knots.
“You see, I thought that tonight,” she went on wistfully, “we might be announcing our engagement.”
A collective intake of breath sweeps the terrace, and I catch the eyes of Mum, confusion stretching across her face, and Dad, whose face seems to be budding anger. The fortnight he’d given was coming to an end.
“But alas.” She sighs lightly, almost amused. “Greggory has chosen a different kind of companionship.”
Her sharp eyes dart briefly toward Cameron.
“He would rather seek the company of men,” she announces smoothly. “One in particular. A cabin crew member… no that's not right, they call them flight attendants in America.” She tilts her head. “From New York? Or was it California? Honestly, I can’t quite remember.”
A few uneasy laughs are huffed. Someone shifts uncomfortably.
“Cameron,” she says pleasantly, raising her glass in his direction. “Your presence here tonight has been absolutely charming. As a business partner, of course.” She winks.
My heart slams against my ribs and I begin to shake with fury.
“Fucking bitch,” Cameron mutters. I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“How brave of Greggory,” she continues, her voice honeyed but cruel under the surface. “How brave to live so openly. To reduce himself and abandon everything he was raised to be in the name of… feeling.”
She paused, letting it land.
“Still,” she claims, her smile widens once more. “Who am I to stand in the way of truth?”
She lifts her glass fully now, her sharp eyes locking onto mine, shining. “So here’s to you, Greggory. May your life be peaceful, filled with endless success, and happiness. Whatever form you believe that takes. Congratulations, darling.”
A few chimes of crystal echo across the silence, along with murmurings and a few judgmental eyes.
I can’t breathe, and beside me, Cameron stands utterly still.