Love Lost In The Shadows

CHAPTER 2.

CAMILLA 

I was brought back to life from the veil of fear and bewilderment that had shrouded me since I saw Alex at the hotel by the sound of his car humming in the driveway. 

As I waited for him to enter, my heart wrenched horribly. He'd been away for three days, without saying anything. And throughout those three days, I had convinced myself that he was too busy at work to return home. 

But I knew in my heart. Even before I saw them together, I could tell that something was odd. If not, why was he acting so aloof? How else could he remain away from me?

I heard his slow, steady footsteps nearing the front door. My pulse raced with fury, concern, and, shamelessly, hope. 

The door creaked open, and there he was—tall, broad-shouldered, and as polished as usual. As he moved past me, his face remained expressionless. There was no word, not even an apology, for making love in public with another woman. It was as if I did not exist. I am invisible to him. 

I inhaled hard, my throat tight from repressed tears. I watched him walk up the steps, waiting and hoping—Please, Alex just turn back. Say something. He did not. He never did.

I followed him upstairs, my chest tight with a combination of suffocating feelings, my legs heavy.

How did we get to this situation? How did things come to be this way? I stopped for a second before entering the main bedroom, halting outside. 

The bed was just as I had left it, perfectly made with every nook and cranny neatly tucked in. Making sure stuff was set for him had taken me hours earlier, and all I could hope was that today would be different. But the place seemed empty and freezing. Just like our marriage.

The guest room door was closed, and the latch turned. I knocked lightly, knowing he would not respond. 

“Alex…”, I shouted out, barely above a whisper. Nothing. He had fully shut me out. I leaned my face against the cold wood of the door, taking deep breaths to keep the tears away. 

How did I become this woman? How did I become the wife who waits for crumbs of attention and holds out hope that he would change? But the fact was that I knew. I'd always known. He never wanted this. He never wanted me.

I lay my hand to my tummy and felt the tiny curve under my fingers. But what about this child?...A flicker of hope flared inside me, which I urgently held onto. Perhaps the baby would change everything.

I closed my eyes and prayed the notion to come true. Maybe once he knows that I'm pregnant, he'll look at me the way I've always hoped. But even as I stood there, I could feel the falsehood permeate into my bones. Can a baby fix a marriage so cold, distant as ours?

With a heavy sigh, I moved away from the door, returning to the bedroom. I sat at the edge of the bed, back against the wall, legs completely extended, staring down at my hands. I could not sleep. How could I when my head was spinning under the weight of everything? The memory of him in the hotel played over and over in my mind. His hand on her back, the way he leaned into her, and his smile—oh, that smile. I have not seen him smile like that in years. Has he ever smiled at me like that?

I absentmindedly brushed my fingertips over the ring on my hand—our wedding ring. As I touched it, memories of our wedding day came flooding back. I could still feel the way he slipped the ring onto my finger—no warmth or emotion. It was evident then that he did not love me. His voice had been chilly and distant when he uttered his vows, and the kiss... it was hollow, mechanical, and devoid of affection. Those moments still haunt me. 

"Don't worry, he will grow to love you," his father had promised me on our wedding day. I clung to the optimism, but nothing changed. It had been an empty hope all the way.

I glanced at the clock. It was 4:39 A.M. I should try to sleep.

After a while, I lay down and stared at the ceiling, my thoughts awash in uncertainty, rage, and sorrow. Again, I assured myself, this baby will make a difference. I chanted it like in supplication, that the pain in my chest would subside. It must. When I did fall asleep, it was a shallow, restless sleep. 

I was greeted by the light, streaming through the curtains of the room as my eyes opened. Oh my...

This is past eight. Oh no!

Leaping out of bed, I quickly attempted to organise my thoughts. I would tell him today. I would force him to pay attention. He should be aware about the child, and maybe, just perhaps, this would be the beginning of something new.

I walked into the bathroom to freshen up before meeting him. As I came out, I spotted something on the bed. 

A file. My stomach clenched. What is this one now? When I moved over, a white piece of paper slid from the file and landed on the floor. When I stooped down to pick it up, my pulse raced as I recognised my name neatly written at the top. 

"Dear Camilla Rowland, I hope this letter finds you well. Sign the documents contained in the mail. The love of my life, Alessia, has returned. I need you to carefully read and sign the papers. After that, you may leave my house. "Our marriage is ended.”

The phrases were hazy to me. Nope. This is too good to be true. They remained the same even after I read them several times. Split up? I fell into the bed, the paper falling from my fingers and my limbs going numb. I couldn't even begin to understand what I had just read, so I simply gazed at the wall.

My heart hammered in my chest, and my throat tightened. Alessia? The lady he had loved—and still loved—was back, and he wanted me to leave. Of course he does. He didn't want me to begin with. What about today? Why today? Why, on our anniversary—the day I planned to inform him about the baby? My fingers automatically reached for my tummy, squeezing it as if it was the only thing keeping me sane. He knows nothing about the baby.

My eyes welled up with tears, and for a little minute, I let them to fall. This can't be real. But it was. The papers were real. The words were true. And the guy I had tried to love for three years had long ago abandoned me.

I pushed my hands on my face, striving to hide the screams that welled up from deep inside. Why did I believe I could mend this? That I Could make him love me?

But then I felt a scorching and bitter flash of wrath run through me. How dare he? How could he throw me away like this—as if I were nothing? After three years of trying, sacrificing, and bending over backwards to gain a piece of his devotion, how could he end it like this? I clamped my eyes tight and took deep, quivering breaths. 

I can still fic it. If I let him know about this baby, he could adjust his mind. He didn't know yet. He couldn't make this choice without knowing.

But soon as the notion entered my brain, I felt it go away. He's already departed. He was never truly here. Not for me. Not for us. He wants Alessia. He has always wanted her. 

I lay curled up on the bed for what felt like hours, the reality of my situation settling in with each breath. There was no way I could avoid it now. Alex is done with me. 

Mirabel, the ringing of my phone interrupted my concentration. Her voice was filled with worry, and she sounded worn, as if she had been carrying a great load for too long. "Camilla..." she began softly, and I nodded, not trusting myself to continue. The lump in my throat was too heavy and unpleasant.

Her voice was compassionate but strong. “I wish you had realised this sooner. He's… He has never genuinely been with you, Camilla. "He has been gone from the beginning." 

I shook my head, and tears welled up again. "But what about the baby…? I thought it would change things..." "I thought..."

Mirabel sighed quietly, her voice full with pity. "Camilla, a baby won't fix a man who's already gone." 

The words struck me hard, and I couldn't refuse. I'd been clutching to that hope like a lifeline, but it was slipping away, leaving me fumbling for nothing. 

The quietness between us was stifling and suffocating. I closed my eyes, the truth of everything crashing down around me. He's gone. He's genuinely gone.

And I'm left here alone, holding the remnants of a life that was never ever mine.