Chapter 7

Camille went to the hospital to check on Michael. When Dianne realized that Camille was his surgeon, a wave of gratitude hit her so hard she nearly sank to her knees.

The medical staff accompanying Camille caught her just in time and helped her back to her feet.

"Please, don't. Saving lives is our duty," Camille said.

"If it weren't for you, Michael wouldn't have made it. You gave him a chance. I can never thank you enough."

Dianne was well into her years. She wept uncontrollably, not from grief, but from the overwhelming relief that Michael had survived.

Camille and the others were medical professionals who'd stared death in the face more times than they could count. There was nothing more gratifying than saving a life.

Michael was out of danger after the surgery. Considering everything, the fact that he suffered no serious complications was as lucky as he could've gotten.

Camille took Dianne's arm to steady her, murmured a few comforting words, and reminded her of a few things before leaving the hospital room alongside the medical staff.

Back in her office, her phone rang. It was her father, Greg Stowell.

She hesitated for a long moment before finally deciding to answer.

"Cami, can you come home with Julian?"

Camille felt a flutter of unease, and her expression sank. "If there's something you need, just say it."

"What's that supposed to mean? Do I need a reason to tell you to come home? Just make sure you're back this afternoon."

Before Camille could protest, Greg ended the call.

…

While Julian sat through a meeting at Hatcher Group, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Kimberly.

"Julian, Xav's already at kindergarten. Thank you. If it weren't for you, Xav wouldn't even be able to go to school."

He read the message, tapped the screen, and typed a simple reply. "No problem."

When he opened WhatsApp, his eyes went straight to Camille's chat. That was when he realized her final message had been sent on the eighth of last month.

She'd asked if he was coming home that weekend, but he never replied. After that, she stopped texting him altogether.

She really knew how to keep her cool.

…

That afternoon, Camille lingered outside the Stowell residence, hesitating, before finally crossing the threshold.

Her mother, Erica Bellamy, spotted her and stepped forward, a warm smile on her face. "Cami, you're back."

Her eyes darted to the doorway, and a shadow of disappointment flitted across her face.

Camille caught it immediately and said lightly, "Don't bother looking. I'm the only one who came back."

Erica's smile wavered.

Just then, Greg came down the stairs. When he didn't see Julian, his expression tightened with irritation.

"Didn't I tell you to bring Julian along?"

"He's busy," Camille replied.

"What do you mean he's busy? That's your husband! Every couple argues and makes up, yet you can't even get him home for a single meal? Are you really that useless?"

Camille felt a chill of disappointment. No one—not even her own family—could understand her.

Greg didn't even ask for an explanation. He launched straight into scolding her, holding her responsible for everything that went wrong.

Six years had passed, and nothing had changed.

Camille remembered how radiant Greg and Erica had been the day she married Julian. They insisted the wedding gifts didn't matter in the slightest.

The Stowells were a modest family—much smaller than the Hatchers—but by any ordinary measure, they were comfortably well-off.

At the time, Camille had truly believed that Greg and Erica were sincere, that they genuinely wanted her happiness.

But after the wedding, everything shifted. Greg and Erica began urging her to ask Julian for money now that she was Mrs. Hatcher.

At first, their demands were simple—money for a villa and a new car for her brother, Harvey Stowell. Later, when Greg suffered losses in his business, he expected Julian to bail him out as well.

To Greg and Erica, Harvey always came first. In their eyes, Camille was nothing more than a cash cow, having latched onto the wealthy Hatchers.

She snapped back to the present, her voice perfectly calm. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that. We're getting a divorce."

The moment the word "divorce" hit his ears, Greg's expression darkened like a gathering storm. He struck her across the face.