“Camila, fix your dress. You look unkempt.”
My mother’s voice sliced through the dining room like the cold steel of a blade. The weight of her gaze burned against my shoulder, her disapproval palpable even without direct eye contact.
The table was adorned with crystal glasses and porcelain plates, a feast fit for show, not comfort. Roast lamb, truffle risotto, and a symphony of side dishes filled the room with an aroma that clashed with the tension in the air.
“Thank you for inviting me, I said, though my throat tightened as I forced the words.”
My father nodded from the head of the table, a brief, neutral acknowledgment that carried more duty than warmth. Beside him, my brother, Caleb, leaned back in his chair, swirling wine like he owned the place.
“Invited? Camila, it’s your family. You shouldn’t need an invitation.”
She said it with a condescending smile, as if the reminder would fix the glaring cracks in our facade.
“But then again, it seems you’ve forgotten what family means.”
I clenched my fists under the table, my nails biting into my palms. The dining room suddenly felt smaller, the walls pressing in with every word she spoke.
“She’s right, though, Caleb chimed in, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather. Kane’s not easy, but you should’ve tried harder.”
My breath hitched. His words were a dagger aimed precisely where it would hurt most.
“Tried harder? “I repeated, my voice low but trembling.
“You know how men like Kane are. Driven, ambitious. He needed someone who could understand that.”
The sting of his words almost drowned out the hum of my mother’s approval.
“Exactly. Marriage is about compromise, Camila. Perhaps if you’d been less... sensitive, things wouldn’t have escalated.”
My chest tightened as memories of Veronica’s taunting texts resurfaced. Kane’s laughter with her, the way he’d dismiss me like an afterthought. Compromise? Had I not compromised my soul for him already?
“I wasn’t the one who brought a mistress into our marriage.”
My voice cracked, but I refused to break eye contact.
“Lower your voice, she snapped, her tone icy. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
“That’s enough, all of you”, my father interjected, his voice carrying a weight that silenced the room.
He looked at me then, softer than the others but no less conflicted.
“Camila, forgiveness is... stability. It’s not weakness.”
I felt the tears prick my eyes, but I blinked them away. Stability? I’d been balancing on a crumbling tightrope for years.
I excused myself, the chair scraping against the floor as I stood abruptly. My mother called after me, something about leaving dishes unfinished, but I didn’t care.
The quiet of the upstairs study wrapped around me like a fragile shield. I stared out the window, the sprawling backyard lit by strings of fairy lights. But even the serene glow couldn’t reach the storm inside me.
“You’ll need to face him eventually.”
His voice startled me, but I didn’t turn around.
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Running only makes things harder.”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head.
“Harder than this? Than being blamed for everything?”
“Your mother only wants what’s best for you.”
“No. She wants what’s best for her image.”
He sighed, stepping closer, but the gulf between us felt insurmountable.
“You’re stronger than you think, Camila. But strength sometimes means choosing peace over pride.”
I clenched my jaw, the familiar ache of conflicting loyalties gnawing at me.
My suitcase sat half-packed on the bed, the contents a jumble of hurried decisions. I ran my fingers over the leather handle, imagining the weight of it as I walked away from this life.
“Leaving, huh?”
I spun around, startled to find Caleb leaning against the doorway, his smirk a cruel mirror of our mother’s.
“What do you want, Caleb?”
“Nothing. Just watching you do what you always do. Run.”
The words hit like a slap, but I didn’t let it show.
“At least I’m not staying and pretending everything’s fine.”
His smirk faltered, but only for a moment.
“Kane was right about you. You don’t fight for anything.”
The venom in his voice struck deep, but I refused to flinch.
“Good thing he has Veronica to fight for him now.”
The flicker of discomfort in his eyes was my only satisfaction as I brushed past him, grabbing the suitcase.
The night air hit me like a slap, cool and biting against my flushed skin. I made it to the car, keys in hand, when the sound of tires on gravel froze me in place.
Headlights pierced through the darkness, the familiar growl of Kane’s engine making my heart lurch.
“Camila, wait.”
His voice was desperate, but it wasn’t just him. Veronica stepped out of the passenger seat, her expression as poised as ever.
My chest constricted as she walked toward me, her smile laced with triumph.
“You weren’t leaving without saying goodbye, were you?”
My grip tightened on the suitcase handle, but the tremble in my knees betrayed me. Kane’s gaze bore into mine, unreadable, as the words I’d been rehearsing dissolved into silence.
