Chapter 2

Camille

You’re here at last.” Naomi stood the moment she saw me and pulled me into a hug. “I was this close to driving to your house. I thought something bad happened.”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

She leaned back just enough to study my face. “Cam…what’s wrong?”

I swallowed hard. 

“Tristan served me divorce papers.”

Her eyes widened. “He did what?”

I let out a shaky laugh that sounded nothing like a laughter.

“I guess gaining weight cost me my marriage. To him, I’m just the plus-sized wife who lost her sex appeal.”

“Oh Camille.” Naomi reached for my hand. “Don’t let that man make you believe that. None of all this has anything to do with your body.”

“Then why is he leaving?”

“Because he’s a fool!”

Tears blurred my vision.

“I stopped being desirable.” My voice cracked. “He hasn’t wanted me for months.”

Naomi looked at me in disbelief. “Can I ask you something?”

I nodded.

“Why didn’t you and Tristan ever have children?”

“At first, waiting made sense. We got married young and had nothing. But even after life got better…there was always another excuse to wait. I kept believing the timing would eventually be right.”

Silence settled between us.

“I just…” I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “I don’t even know who I am outside of being his wife anymore.”

Naomi squeezed my hand. 

“Then we’ll figure that out together.”

She reached for the menu.

“But first you’re going to eat.”

I shook my head.

“Naomi, I'm not hungry.”

“I don’t care if it’s just a few bites.”

I sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.”

She smiled and signaled for the waiter.

The waiter approached our table, but before he could speak, a deep, commanding baritone voice interrupted him from behind. 

“Put whatever the ladies desire on my tab, Moses.”

The waiter instantly stepped aside, bowing his head respectfully.

“Of course, Mr. Sterling.”

I looked up, my eyes meeting a pair of piercing, blue eyes belonging to a man in a flawlessly tailored grey suit. He possessed an aura of pure unadulterated power that made the air in the restaurant feel heavy. 

Naomi gasped, instantly sitting up straighter. “Mr. Sterling! I didn’t realize you dine here.”

“A business lunch,” he replied smoothly, his gaze settled on me. His eyes swept over my features, lingering with an intense, unreadable curiosity that made my skin tingle. Despite my makeup smeared face, his expression remained perfectly respectful.

He held my gaze, a small smile tugged at his lips. “You have beautiful eyes. They shouldn’t look so sad.”

He stepped back and gave a single, elegant nod to both of us. “Enjoy your evening, ladies.”

As he walked away, Naomi stared after him before turning back to me, her eyes wide.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” Naomi hissed, leaning in closer. “Tristan has spent the last year making you feel completely invisible, and a total hunk just stops at our table for you.”

I swallowed hard, the warmth still burning my cheek.

“Naomi…”

“No, I told you Camille. You don’t have to be sad over a man who doesn’t see your worth.” Naomi squeezed my hand. “The universe is literally telling you to move on.”

“I get the impression you two know each other,” I noted, glancing back toward the bio area.

“We do, sort of. He’s an old business associate of my firm’s senior partner,” Naomi explained. “He’s a powerful client, but a total gentleman. But enough about him, look our food is here.”

Right on cue, the waiter arrived, placing our steaming plates on the table with a polite smile.

I managed a small smile, picking up my fork. Something about the stranger made me blush. His words lingered in my mind far longer.

But as I took my first bite, reality slowly crept back in. The brief escape was over, and I still had a cold house and a failing marriage to go back home to.

*******

My stomach turned when I spotted Tristan’s car in the driveway. He was home, which was exactly what I didn’t need after the afternoon we’d had. Maybe I could slip inside without him noticing.

I wasn’t lucky. Tristan was at the dining table, eating with Kacy curled up at his feet.

“Where are you coming from?”

“Lunch with Naomi. I told you that earlier.”

“Right.” He went back to eating like the question hadn’t really mattered in the first place. “I figured you’d cancel, I see you went after all.”

“Why would I cancel? I’m allowed to have a social life.”

“I’m still your husband. I should know whenever you leave the house! You were supposed to let me know you went out after all.”

“We both know you don’t really care where I go,” I said, holding his gaze. “I need to start having a life that doesn’t revolve around you.”

Something flickered across his face, but it was gone before I could name it. He wiped his mouth and set his fork down.

 “I’m leaving for a business trip in a few days.”

“Of course you are.”

“Don’t start, Camille. We had enough for today.”

“I’m not starting anything. For the past three months you’ve gone on business trips. I’ve lost count of how much you travel.”

“Would you rather I stayed home so we could keep having conversations like this?”

“Aren’t those a lot of business trips, Tristan? Don’t think I’m stupid enough to not know what those trips really are.”

He scoffed. “Careful, Camille. You keep torturing yourself with all these assumptions. It makes you look pathetic.”

“Torturing myself? Life with you is torture. I’m done pretending I don’t know what's going on.”

“You see why I got tired of you? All you do is complain. Every night it’s another bottle of wine, another pity party. You got fat. It’s disgusting. I can’t even remember the last time I looked at you and felt anything!”

Tears fell to my cheek. “Tristan…”

“Thanks for making me lose my appetite!” 

He pushed his chair back, and walked past me without another glance, grabbed his car keys from the TV console, and slammed the front door behind him.

The slam echoed through the house, leaving behind a silence that felt even louder.

His words kept replaying in my head on a cruel loop. Fat. Disgusting.

I couldn’t hold back my sobs as tears rolled down my cheeks. 

Kacy wandered over and rested her head against my leg. I scratched behind her ears before lifting her onto my lap.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” Corra’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. 

She stood by the kitchen entrance, worry written all over her face. “Should I make you some chamomile tea?”

“No, thank you, Corra. I’m fine.”

Chamomile tea might calm my nerves, but it wouldn’t fix this. Nothing brewed ever could.

I set Kacy down gently and made my way to the wine cellar instead, in search of something stronger.