My Husband's Son

Chapter Two

CAMILLA

Dylan reacted like he’d been caught with a hand in a cookie jar. He lurched upright from the couch, remote falling onto the carpet, and the TV paused . I saw what he was watching. There was a woman with her head tilted back, ridding on a man, her over large boobs paused in motion. I am not a prude but I still felt shame crawl up my neck. He had been watching porn. Not decorating for the proposal. There was no hint anywhere that he was doing anything. I turned away from the screen wanting to laugh at myself for imagining a proposal that night, for imagining anything between us that resembled forever.

He fumbled for words. “Oh—s**t—Camilla, babe, wait—” He sounded like a man caught in a lie he hadn’t practiced. He grabbed the remote and shut the TV off quickly.

He ran a hand through his hair and avoided my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sometimes I get bored waiting for you. You work late. I—” He spread his hands, the motion small and casual. “You know. I’m a guy. Stuff happens.”

That's his excuse? Because he was a guy? I wanted to show him how hollow it sounded inside my head. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, which should have been comforting but it felt performative.

He kissed the top of my head, a quick, polite peck, and said, “Happy birthday, babe,”

He held out a bouquet of roses, lilies, carnations like always. Pollen was dusted on it like powdered sugar, and I can't believe that Dylan didn't remember after I had reminded him politely last time that I was allergic.

I smiled because smiling felt like the only polite action left to me. “They’re beautiful,” I said.

He grinned, “Knew you’d love them,” he said, proud.

I collected the flowers, "Please excuse me" I said before fleeing to the bathroom and scrubbed at my skin under the tap until my palms turned purple and the water turned cool. I scrubbed because I could feel the pollen in my hairline, because it felt like the flower’s dust had gone inside me and stayed.

When I forced myself back into the bedroom, I chose an oversized T-shirt and bum shorts. Maybe he wanted something simple, we could watch a movie together and get into the mood. He might be nervous too.

Yes! That was it, he was nervous

I walked back to the sitting room, trying to tell myself that the night was still young. And even if nothing happened, It's just a birthday, it's nothing big.

Then I heard Bella's voice from the living room. I was a little bit happy, Bella never forgot my birthday, even though she had been weird a little these days.

As I moved closer, it almost sounded as if they were arguing. Again. Bella didn't like Dylan and never wasted an opportunity to show him how much.

“You can’t keep hiding it,” Bella snapped. “I’m pregnant, Dylan. I’m carrying your baby. I can’t keep sneaking around like this when I am the one you love .”

Did she just say pregnant?

My body did that strange thing where it becomes too heavy to move. The world narrowed and the doorframe became the only thing anchoring me to the floor. I gripped the wood until my knuckles hurt. I could hear my own breath, sharp and shallow inside my ribs. For a second I couldn’t tell I was dreaming or not.

Dylan whispered furiously. “Lower your voice Bella, Don’t ruin this for us. I already said I was handling it.”

“Handling it how?” Bella’s voice broke. “You tell me to wait and I wait and then what? I’m tired of waiting. I don't want to do this anymore, I can't be watching you being all lovey with each other when I am the one who is supposed to be with you. Do you love her? ”

“No! No baby! I am only dating her for her inheritance,” he said. “Camilla’s prideful and selfish; she refuses to go back to her family. But in the end, when I marry her, her family would acknowledge me and I will get her to transfer everything to me. Then I’ll divorce her and we’ll be okay. You, me, and the baby. I love you, Bella. But you need to leave now. If she sees you here, everything falls apart.”

I was definitely dreaming, I pinched myself to be sure this was just a nightmare but the sharp pain told me it was not. I couldn't breathe..... I needed something to hold.... Anything!

I stepped into the living room and they both turned to me simultaneously.

"When did you get here?" Dylan asked but I ignored him, looking at Bella.

"How long has this been going on?" I asked.

She crossed her arms, looking at me with no remorse, "Three years now"

Fuck you , I wanted to say. I am going to make you regret doing this to me. Instead, the words that came out of my mouth sounded small and like the way I felt.

"Did you have fun?"

"Camilla..... "

“Did you have fun playing with my emotions?” I shouted . “All this time, I was being used? Dylan, I paid your college fees! I worked three jobs. I stayed up every night studying with you. I bought you everything. I paid the rent when you couldn’t. I cooked every meal. Cleaned everything. I fixed your life and you—”

Suddenly my vocal cords felt too tight....

“And flowers?” I let out a dry, broken laugh. “Every birthday, every Valentine’s, every Christmas—you bought flowers. And I’m allergic. You didn’t know because you never paid attention. You never even looked at me.”

Tears streamed down my face. “I sacrificed everything for you. Everything. I lost my family for you. I chose you. Every single time.”

Dylan exhaled sharply. “I didn’t ask you to do all that for me.

Everywhere felt blurry as the tears clouded my vision.

He was right, I did this if my own free will. He never asked me to but to hear him say so nonchalantly made me move before I could think. I slapped him across the cheek, hard.

Then I grabbed my keys from the table. Dylan tried to call me back but Bella stopped him telling him to leave the b***h alone.

I sprinted towards the car remembering how he kissed me the first time, how I cheered while he crossed the graduation stage, the nights I stayed up making sure he ate when he was sick.

My throat felt like lead and I could feel was this pain on my chest and the wet drops on my face.

I started the car again and drove into the night, going to somewhere, anywhere that did not include him.