Chapter 7 - CAMILLE’S LAST NIGHT IN THE HOUSE
Camille left the estate the next morning.
Her children went with her.
Dominic did not throw their belongings onto the lawn.
Did not have guards humiliate them.
Did not turn the departure into a spectacle.
Emma had seen enough adults try to make other people feel unwanted.
He would not teach her the same lesson in reverse.
Ava came to Emma’s room before leaving.
She carried Isabella’s repaired photograph.
New glass.
Same frame.
“I fixed it.”
Emma took it.
“Thanks.”
Ava stood awkwardly.
“I’m sorry.”
Emma looked at her.
“For the room?”
“And everything.”
Emma shrugged.
“You didn’t put me downstairs.”
“I didn’t stop it.”
That sounded older than fifteen.
Emma thought.
Then said:
“You can still text me.”
Ava’s eyes filled.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Mom might not like it.”
Emma looked confused.
“So?”
Dominic heard it from the doorway.
He almost smiled.
Ava hugged Emma.
Then Ethan appeared.
Seventeen.
He had barely spoken since Dominic returned.
He handed Emma something.
A small wooden dinosaur.
“You left this in the game room.”
Emma smiled.
“I thought Camille threw it away.”
Ethan looked at the floor.
“She told me to.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“But I didn’t.”
Emma took it.
“Thanks.”
Ethan nodded.
Then looked at Dominic.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.”
“My mom—”
“Your mother is responsible for your mother.”
Ethan seemed surprised.
Dominic added:
“You are responsible for what you do next.”
Ethan nodded.
That was enough.
Camille waited downstairs.
Her luggage was stacked near the front door.
Dominic entered the library.
She followed.
For the first time since they met, there was nothing glamorous about her.
No perfect makeup.
No expensive armor.
Just a tired woman who had destroyed the life she thought she was protecting.
“You’re letting Ava and Ethan stay in contact with Emma?”
“Yes.”
Camille looked surprised.
“They shouldn’t be punished for us.”
She looked away.
“No.”
Dominic stood near the fireplace.
“What did Anthony tell you?”
She laughed bitterly.
“You still want details?”
“I want truth.”
Camille sat.
“He told me you would never really marry me.”
“We had a wedding date.”
“He said you’d postpone.”
“Did I?”
“Once.”
Dominic remembered.
A business emergency.
He had moved the date by two months.
Camille continued:
“He said every time Isabella’s name came up, you changed.”
Dominic did not deny it.
“You did.”
“I know.”
“He said Emma would always be more important.”
Dominic looked at her.
“She is my daughter.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Camille closed her eyes.
“Not the way I should have.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“I wanted Ava and Ethan to feel like they mattered too.”
“They should.”
“They came into this house and everything already belonged to someone else.”
Dominic listened.
“The traditions.”
“The photographs.”
“The rooms.”
“Your staff still called Isabella Mrs. Moretti sometimes by accident.”
Camille’s voice broke.
“And I felt like an intruder.”
Dominic looked down.
There was truth there.
He had asked Camille to step into a house full of ghosts and expected confidence to be enough.
He had not made enough room for her.
That was his failure.
But then she continued.
“Anthony noticed.”
Dominic looked up.
“He listened.”
“Of course.”
“He told me you never would.”
Camille wiped her face.
“At first, we just talked.”
“When did it change?”
“January.”
Peter had seen them January ninth.
Dominic nodded.
Camille continued:
“I was angry with you.”
“So you slept with him.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
Good.
“Then?”
“He started telling me I had to make changes.”
“What kind?”
“To show you I wasn’t afraid.”
Dominic stared.
“Emma’s room?”
Camille looked ashamed.
“Not at first.”
She described small things.
Changing the table.
Moving Isabella’s books.
Replacing photographs.
Then Anthony told her Dominic would never see her as family while Emma kept the house “frozen in the past.”
So Camille started removing reminders.
One picture.
Then another.
Then the chair.
Then rules.
Emma needed permission to enter certain rooms.
Then she stopped joining some dinners.
Camille told herself boundaries were healthy.
By the time Emma was sleeping downstairs, cruelty had become routine enough to look like household management.
Dominic stared at her.
“Did you know she was hungry?”
Camille looked away.
“Sometimes.”
“Did you know she was afraid to call me?”
“Yes.”
That answer hurt more because Camille did not defend it.
“Why?”
Camille whispered:
“Because I didn’t want her to.”
Dominic said nothing.
“I knew if she reached you, you would come home.”
“And?”
Camille looked at him.
“And I knew if you saw what the house had become, you would choose her.”
Dominic stared.
“You still think that was the competition.”
Camille started crying.
“I know it wasn’t.”
“Too late.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Dominic asked the question that mattered most.
“Did you know Anthony planned something for Sunday?”
Camille looked frightened.
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“He told me after Emma’s birthday you were going to have a difficult meeting.”
“Did he tell you where?”
“No.”
“What did he say afterward?”
“That things would be different.”
Dominic watched her.
“I thought he meant you’d lose influence.”
“And you were okay with that?”
Camille swallowed.
“I was angry enough to think I was.”
Dominic nodded.
Not forgiveness.
Just information.
Camille stood.
“What happens to us?”
“There is no us.”
She flinched.
“I know.”
“What happens to you is your choice.”
She looked toward the front door.
“And Emma?”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“You stay away until she asks otherwise.”
Camille closed her eyes.
“That may be never.”
“Yes.”
A tear slid down her face.
“I loved her.”
Dominic did not answer immediately.
“Maybe.”
Camille looked up.
“But you loved the version of her that didn’t interfere with what you wanted.”
That was worse.
Because it was true.
She picked up her purse.
At the door, she stopped.
“Dominic.”
He waited.
“You were absent.”
His jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“I’m not saying that excuses me.”
“Good.”
“But Emma was lonely before I started being cruel.”
Dominic stared.
Camille’s voice softened.
“She used to sit at the front window whenever you traveled.”
His throat tightened.
“For hours.”
“She’d ask every car if it was you.”
Dominic looked away.
“After a while she stopped asking.”
Camille opened the door.
“That part wasn’t Anthony.”
Then she left.
Dominic stood alone.
He hated her for saying it.
He hated that she was right.
That afternoon, he found Emma in Isabella’s garden room.
Maria had opened the windows.
The coffee cups Kane left were gone.
His clothes were gone.
Isabella’s books were back where Dominic remembered them.
Emma sat in the yellow chair.
“You okay?”
She looked up.
“Camille left.”
“Yes.”
“Ava texted.”
“That was fast.”
“She says her hotel has a pool.”
Dominic smiled slightly.
Then Emma asked:
“Are you going away again?”
There it was.
Dominic sat opposite her.
“Sometimes.”
Her face fell.
“I have work.”
“Oh.”
“But things are changing.”
She looked suspicious.
“How?”
Dominic thought.
“I’m not going to tell you something stupid like I’ll never miss dinner again.”
Emma almost smiled.
“Good.”
“I probably will.”
“You always do.”
“Rude.”
“True.”
He nodded.
“But I won’t disappear for weeks without making sure you can reach me.”
She listened.
“And nobody can ever tell you I’m too busy for you.”
“What if you are?”
“Then you call anyway.”
“What if you’re in a meeting?”
“Call.”
“What if someone important is there?”
Dominic leaned forward.
“You are the important person.”
Emma stared.
Then looked down.
“You say stuff like movies now.”
Dominic blinked.
“That was sincere.”
“It was cheesy.”
He sighed.
“Your mother would agree with you.”
Emma smiled.
That evening, Dominic had Isabella’s photographs restored to Emma’s room.
Not all of them.
Emma chose where each one went.
The beach photo beside her bed.
Isabella reading on the dresser.
The wedding photograph in the hallway.
Dominic noticed.
“Why there?”
“So everybody sees it.”
He looked at his daughter.
“Okay.”
Then Emma pointed toward the empty space beside it.
“We need another picture.”
“Of what?”
“A new one.”
“Of us?”
“And Maria.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
“Maria?”
“She slept in the laundry room chair so I wouldn’t be alone.”
Dominic looked toward the doorway.
Maria had heard.
She immediately said:
“Oh, no.”
Emma smiled.
“Yes.”
Maria looked at Dominic.
He shrugged.
“I don’t appear to be in charge anymore.”
Emma grinned.
May you like
For the first time, that felt like a good thing.
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