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30
CAULDRON
It’d been raining the last few days. I spent my time sitting in front of the fire in my study. Sometimes I lay in bed long after my alarm went off. I skipped the gym—which was unheard of. But I just didn’t have it in me.
I wound up on her doorstep, the rain soaking my coat as I stood there. Water dripped to the edge of my nose before it splattered on the ground. I rang the doorbell and waited, feeling like I was taking a cold shower.
She opened the door and narrowed her eyes in concern. “It’s pouring out there. Where’s your umbrella?”
Men like me didn’t own umbrellas.
She pulled me inside. “You’re soaking wet.”
I stripped off my jacket and then kicked off my shoes.
“Let me put these in the dryer for you.” She carried everything to another room.
My pants were still soaking wet, and I couldn’t sit on anything without causing a puddle, so I stripped them off. Took off the shirt too.
Camille came back into the room and did a double take. “Um…I’ll put these in the dryer too.” She gathered my things and walked away.
I took a seat on the couch in my black boxers, leaving my phone and wallet on the coffee table.
When she returned, she draped a blanket over my shoulders.
It was the first time she’d shown me affection, so I didn’t stop her.
“What are you doing here?” She tightened the blanket around me before she sat on the edge of the coffee table and faced me.
“You won’t return my calls or texts.” She’d given me her answer without actually giving it, and it was like a bullet lodged in a rib. It hurt every time I tried to breathe. I’d come this far and fought this hard, only to lose at the very end.
She dropped her chin and deflected the statement.
She was the only reason I was still in Paris. Didn’t care for the city as much as Grave did. Preferred my own space. Preferred my own land. But Camille was home now, so wherever she was, so was I.
“I’m still thinking it over…”
It’d been days since we’d last spoken. Days of isolation and loneliness.
“Is that okay?”
It was utterly disappointing. “As long as your answer isn’t no, I’m happy.”
She crossed her legs and brought her hands together. The rain started to fall harder now, like a stampede of hooves on the roof. She looked up at the ceiling before she looked at me again. “How long are you in Paris?”
“Until you’re ready to come home with me.”
She stared at me, subtle emotion in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do…”
I closed my eyes as the pain flooded everywhere.
“I asked Grave for his advice.”
“And what did my brother say?” He didn’t always have the highest opinion of me. Said straight to my face that I’d never change. If he still had feelings for Camille, it would be the perfect opportunity to put a nail in my coffin and get rid of me forever.
“That it’ll kill me not to try…”
Thank you, Grave. “Then try.”
