Chapter 9 - The Wall Between Us
Evelyn Vance’s visit left a dark, toxic residue in the penthouse air.
Although Cameron had thrown her out, her cruel words lingered like poison. I spent the rest of the evening in the west wing, packing our clothes back into our suitcases.
At 9:00 PM, Cameron knocked on my door and walked in. He saw the open suitcases on the bed and stopped dead in his tracks.
"What are you doing, Clara?" he asked, his voice filled with alarm.
"Evelyn was right, Cameron," I said, my voice shaking as I folded a sweater. "We don't belong here. This penthouse belongs to your past. To Eleanor and Lily. Having us here... it's causing chaos for your family, and it's putting Sadie in the middle of a war."
Cameron strode across the room, grabbing my hands to stop me from packing.
"Look at me, Clara," he commanded softly.
I looked up into his dark eyes, tears blurring my vision.
"Evelyn Vance is a bitter, toxic woman who spent ten years wanting me to remain buried in a grave alongside her daughter," Cameron said fiercely. "She doesn't care about Lily's memory. She cares about control. You and Sadie are not an intrusion. You are the only real light I have had in my life for ten years."
"Cameron, people will talk," I whispered. "Your board members, the press, Eleanor's family... they'll say I manipulated you. That I used my daughter to get into your life—"
"Let them talk!" Cameron shouted softly, his hands moving up to cup my face gently, his thumbs wiping away my falling tears. "Do you think I give a damn about what the city thinks? Do you think I care about board members?"
His touch was so warm, so tender, it made my heart ache with a fierce, terrifying hope.
"I care about the woman who stood in my living room and protected her daughter," Cameron whispered, his gaze dropping to my lips. "I care about the woman who sat beside me at the piano and held my hand while I cried for my child. I care about you, Clara."
My breath hitched in my throat. "Cameron..."
"Don't leave me," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. "Please, Clara. Don't let them make this house quiet again."
I looked into the eyes of the man who had fought off my abusive ex-husband, who had opened his broken heart to my daughter, and who was now holding me as if I were the most precious thing in his world.
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"I won't leave," I whispered back. "I'm right here."
Cameron closed the small distance between us, pressing his lips against mine in a gentle, lingering kiss that tasted of tears, relief, and a promise of a new beginning.
