Chapter ten

Camelia’s POV

“What have I gotten myself into”? I asked myself as I finally left his office. The whole dramatic scene seemed like they were all out to chew me. There was something about Lydia that didn't sit well with me. Since the first time I saw her at Henry's. I didn’t like her!, but it wasn’t just dislike. It was... unease.

“Because, Why all the warnings? Henry had been clear he wasn’t interested. So why push so hard? I couldn’t figure out what they were to each other — they didn’t act like exes”. But then again, what did exes even act like? I scoffed at myself, realizing how ridiculous that thought was.

None of it should matter anyway. I was here to pretend — to act like Henry’s wife. That’s what I owed him. So pretend I would.

I still try hard not to think about my betrayal , especially Brady who deceived me. My heart still drops anytime I think about it.

I walked up to the elevator, watching the glowing numbers count down as I waited for the doors to open.

A man stepped beside me, but I barely noticed. My mind was fixed on the elevator, eager to escape the awkward silence that often lingered in such moments.

“Camelia,” a voice called softly.

My heart skipped a beat. That voice — familiar yet unexpected. I turned my head, and my breath caught.

“Jackson Norman?” I stammered.

We had studied journalism at the same university. We hadn't spoken much, but I remembered him well — the funny guy who always had a witty remark during lectures. Only now, he looked... different. Better. Sharper. The scruffy hair and baggy clothes were gone, replaced with a well-fitted suit and a confident stance.

"Yeah," he chuckled, stepping closer. "It's really me."

I found myself smiling. "Wow. What are you doing here in Castle?"

"I was called in to cover a story," he explained.

"That's great!" I said, genuinely impressed. "It's nice to see you're still chasing the dream."

"What about you?" He asked, breaking the silence. "I just dropped in to say hi to someone," I added quickly.

"That's nice," he whispered, his eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. "You haven't changed at all... still looking like the pretty Camelia I remember."

I almost laughed. “Pretty”?.

I’d nearly forgotten how that word used to follow me everywhere back in college. I had been the one everyone admired — yet I chose Brady. The deepest regret of my life.

"Thank you," I said, blushing.

His eyes dropped to my hand. "Married?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Yes," I said, unsure why my voice faltered.

"To Brady?" His gaze lifted again. "I always wondered why you chose him. You know... I had a crush on you too he added".

"Not Brady?" I said.

“Really”? he said, blinking in surprise. "That's...unexpected. I thought you two were inseparable."

I didn’t answer. What was there to say? Brady had been my choice, and life... well, life had unfolded the way it did.

"Anyway," Jackson said, his tone brightening. "I heard there’s a class dinner coming up. Everyone would be there.”

My heart dropped. I hadn’t seen most of them since we graduated — except for Maddie, that terrible bitch! And she is the last person I want to see.

Even though I had unanswered questions.

"That’s... nice," I managed, forcing a smile.

"Yeah." Jackson shifted awkwardly. "Can I get your number? You know, to keep you updated?"

Hmm….my phone’s acting up. Just give me your card, I’ll reach out."

He gave me a knowing look. "You sure?"

"Yes, Jackson," I said, forcing a laugh. "Stop being a doubting Thomas and give me the card."

"Okay, okay," he said, slipping it into my hand. "I’ll be waiting, ma'am."

"Alright, joker," I said, smiling. "What are you glaring at?" I asked, noticing Jackson’s eyes fixed on my blouse.

"Well... I think there's a stain," he said.

"Ooh, where?" I asked, twisting to look.

"Here," he pointed at my shoulder.

I brushed at it, but Jackson chuckled.

"Camelia, you're not getting this off," he said with a grin. "Come here, let me help you." He reached over, wrapping his arms around my shoulders as he gently brushed at the stain.

"Camelia?" Henry’s voice called out suddenly.

Jackson’s arms dropped from my shoulders. "Thank you," I whispered to Jackson.

Henry’s eyes narrowed. "I thought you’d left already. Didn't know you were still here... with someone." His gaze shifted to Jackson, and I could practically feel the tension in the air.

"He's a classmate... and a colleague," I said quickly. "Jackson, meet Henry Richard."

Jackson’s face lit up in surprise. "Wait — the same Henry Richard I’m supposed to meet tomorrow? The CEO of Castle?"

"Yes," I replied with a faint smile.

"It's an honour to meet you, sir," Jackson said, stretching out his hand.

Henry didn’t take it.

"She forgot to mention something," Henry muttered coolly. His fingers slid around mine. "I’m also her husband." A chill rushed down my spine.

Jackson’s eyes widened in shock. "Wow," he stammered. "I... I didn’t know... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean..." He faltered, pressing his hand to his mouth. "It’s just... surprising."

"You can take the elevator now, sweetheart," Henry said, his voice oddly sweet — too sweet. “Sweetheart”?. The word echoed in my head.Why was he acting this way? I was the only one allowed to act this way, if we were in a situation that needs it.

Before I could speak, Henry took my hand and led me to the elevator.

"Come on, Jackson," I said, signaling him to join me.

"It’s fine," Henry cut in with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "He’ll wait for the next one."

That smile lingered in my mind as I stepped into the elevator. Something about it unsettled me, but I didn’t dwell on it.

Outside, the driver was already waiting. He opened the car door for me, and I slid in. “Thank you I said to the driver”

I've been living in a different world since I met Henry — a world where I’m treated like a queen, as if I’m really his wife. And the strangest part? He’s played the role so convincingly, sometimes I wonder if he's overdoing it.

Maybe that’s a good thing, I thought. The more convincing we are, the more real it seems.

*******

It was already midnight, and Henry still wasn’t back. Thankfully, Gabriel had brought the phone earlier in the day before heading back to the office. It had taken almost a fight before he finally gave me Henry’s number.

The household staff had already retired for the night. I had told the few remaining workers lingering around to get some rest, while I tried to reach him.

I didn’t want to call; what if he was still at the dinner?. Instead, I sent a text:

"Are you done? It’s pretty late. Where are you now?."

Minutes passed. No reply.

I thought of calling Gabriel, but I didn’t have his number. Restlessness gnawed at me. I couldn’t understand why I was so worried, but my mind refused to calm down.

What if something happened?

What if they forced him into something he didn’t want?

What if he left the dinner and had an accident on the way home?

I paced the living room, unable to sit still. My room felt suffocating, so I left it behind. My eyes locked on the clock, I watched the minutes drag by. “One o'clock.”

“Where is he?” I mumbled.

Just as my thoughts spiraled deeper, the front door creaked open. Gabriel staggered in, dragging Henry beside him.

"What happened to him?" I rushed to meet them.

"He’s drunk," Gabriel said flatly.

"Drunk? But... didn’t he go to the dinner?"

"He did," Gabriel muttered.

"Then why—?"

"Look, if you want to know why, ask him when he’s sober," Gabriel cut in, his frustration slipping out.

"I just want to know what happened!" I shot back.

Gabriel sighed. "Fine. After the dinner, he went to a bar and got himself drunk. Are you satisfied now?" He flinched when he said it, like he was holding back something more.

"Now help me get him to his room," Gabriel grunted.

Together, we dragged Henry upstairs and eased him onto his bed.

"You can let him rest now," Gabriel said, stepping back.

"No, I’ll stay with him tonight," I replied firmly.

Gabriel scoffed. "I don’t think that’s necessary. He could use some silence right now."

I knew Gabriel didn’t like me — that much had been clear — but I didn’t care. Henry was my concern right now.

"I’ll be quiet," I said through clenched teeth. "I’m not about to sit here shouting and making noise!"

Just as I was about to argue further, Henry’s hand grasped mine — weak, but firm.

"Stay with me," he whispered.