Chapter 5

Years had passed with barely any contact between Gabriel and Camille. Yet even in their few encounters, Gabriel could see the change. The fiery, self-assured woman he once knew was gone.

He remembered the Camille of old. Insecure? That word would never have described her. While he knew little about her marriage to Damien, her current state was an open secret he'd somehow missed.

Gabriel kept his suspicions to himself. Instead, he offered encouragement. "A setback doesn’t define you. Your talent still outshines most. If you still love this field, it’s never too late."

"Don’t forget—you were Professor Bellamy’s favorite student in his entire career."

Camille smiled faintly. If the professor heard that, he’d scoff. "No choice but to pick the least terrible one," he’d say.

Thinking of her sharp-tongued mentor, her smile faded. "I saw the news. He’s back for the centennial. How is he?"

"Annoyed, mostly. By us—his eternally disappointing students—showing up uninvited," Gabriel replied.

Camille laughed, nostalgia washing over her. Those long nights drafting thesis papers under his scrutiny felt like another lifetime.

"Come back, Camille," Gabriel urged.

Her grip tightened around her cup. After a steadying breath, she nodded. "Alright."

AI had been her passion since childhood. But for love, she’d shelved that dream for seven years.

Catching up wouldn’t be easy. But she believed in hard work. It wasn’t too late.

"When?" Gabriel asked.

"I need to wrap things up at my current job. It’ll take time."

"That’s fine. No rush."

As long as she returned, waiting a little longer didn’t matter.

Their conversation lingered until Gabriel checked his watch. "I’m meeting an algorithm prodigy who just returned from abroad. Since you’re here, why not join us?"

Camille shook her head. "I’d be out of place. Next time."

"Fair enough."

As Gabriel left, Camille spotted Selene Harrington approaching. Damien’s sister. She’d seen her in headlines but never expected to cross paths here.

"Hello, Selene."

No response. Just a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Briarwood’s centennial. I came to visit."

Had Camille not mentioned it, Selene might’ve forgotten she’d even graduated from Briarwood. Today’s attendees were either current students or honored alumni.

What was a nobody like Camille doing here?

As long as she didn’t embarrass the Harringtons, Selene couldn’t care less.

"Caleb misses your cooking," she said bluntly. "I’ll send him to your place tomorrow."

Caleb, Selene’s son, was a year older than Chloe. Between a crumbling marriage and demanding career, Selene had little time for him. His rebellion had only worsened.

Learning he liked Camille’s food, Selene had been dumping him at her doorstep for years.

To the Harringtons, Camille was invisible. Even Caleb treated her like a servant.

Before, she’d endured it for Damien. She’d bitten her tongue through every disrespectful remark.

Not anymore.

"Sorry, Selene. I’m unavailable."

With her return to AI, every minute counted. After the divorce, the Harringtons would mean nothing to her.

Selene blinked. Refusal? Camille had always groveled for their approval.

She dismissed it—Camille must have some "important" errand. Still, irritation prickled. "What could possibly be more important? Damien and Chloe aren’t even with you."

Camille’s lips twisted bitterly. Years of erasing herself for them, and this was her worth.

It stung, but she wouldn’t live like that again.

Before she could retort, a group descended. "Ms. Harrington!"

Their eyes flicked to Camille. "Who’s this?"

Selene’s reply was ice. "A friend."

Their interest evaporated. One or two lingered on Camille’s striking features, but the rest refocused on Selene.

Once, the dismissal would’ve crushed her. Now? She couldn’t care less.

After Selene left, Camille grabbed her bag and walked away.

That night, Damien’s flight landed at 10 PM. By the time they reached the estate, midnight approached.

Chloe was asleep in his arms. Passing the master bedroom, he noted the open door—and the darkness within.

After tucking Chloe in, he returned, flipping the light on. The bed was empty.

The butler, Marcus, arrived with luggage.

"Where is she?" Damien asked, loosening his tie.

"Mrs. Harrington is on a business trip."

Marcus hadn’t been home when Camille left with her suitcase weeks ago. The staff assumed it was work-related.

Odd. Her trips rarely lasted more than a few days. This time? Over two weeks.

Damien said nothing, his expression unreadable.