Chapter 407
Chapter 407:
“What would you call it?” Camille asked.
The question hung in the air between them. Alexander stared into his glass as if it held answers.
“Betrayal,” he said finally. “The kind you don’t come back from.”
Camille moved slowly toward him, closing the distance until she stood just a step away. “I thought the same thing once. About my…”
Alexander looked up sharply. “That’s different. Your parents were manipulated by Rose. They didn’t choose to believe her over you out of preference.”
“Didn’t they?” Camille held his gaze. “They wanted to believe her version because it was easier. Because facing what she’d done, what they’d allowed, was too painful.”
She reached for his hand, relieved when he didn’t pull away. “I’m not saying you should forgive them. I’m not saying what they did wasn’t horrible. I’m just asking you to listen to them. Once. Then decide.”
Alexander’s fingers tightened around hers. “Why are you pushing this? After I’ve already refused them multiple times?”
“Because I know what it’s like to think a door is closed forever,” Camille said quietly. “To believe some wounds can never heal. And to discover I was wrong.” She thought of her parents, of the slow rebuilding of trust between them. Of the unexpected joy that had come with letting go of old pain.
“If you meet with them and decide nothing has changed, that they haven’t earned a second chance… I’ll support that.” She squeezed his hand. “But don’t make that decision without hearing them out.”
Alexander pulled away, moving back to the window. For a long moment, he stared out at the city, his body rigid with tension.
“She asked if you still have nightmares,” Camille said softly. “Before important events.”
Alexander’s head snapped around, surprise breaking through his anger. “She remembered that?”
“Yes.” Camille watched as something shifted in his expression. “It was the last thing she asked. If you were sleeping well.”
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Alexander turned back to the window, but not before Camille caught the flash of vulnerability in his eyes.
“I told her you have me now,” she continued. “That you don’t face things alone anymore.”
The minutes stretched between them, filled only with the distant sounds of the city below. Finally, Alexander’s shoulders sagged slightly.
“One meeting,” he said, his voice low. “In a public place. And I make no promises about what happens afterward.”
Relief washed through Camille. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“No, it isn’t.” Alexander turned to face her, his expression softened but serious. “You’re asking me to reopen wounds that took years to heal. To face people who chose someone else over me when I needed them most. People I’ve already turned away multiple times.”
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