Chapter 4: One Bed, Two Strangers
352 Words
Camille stepped out of the bathroom, wiping her face with a towel, when she heard Elias’s voice from the hallway.
> “We have a problem.”
She braced herself. “What now?”
> “My aunt’s in town. Surprise visit. She wants to have dinner with us tomorrow. She doesn’t know about the divorce.”
Camille blinked. “So we keep pretending?”
> “Exactly.”
> “You know this is getting out of hand, right?”
Elias leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. “If you want your payout, you’ll follow the agreement.”
That word again. Agreement. Like their marriage had been nothing more than an Excel sheet with deadlines.
Camille exhaled sharply. “Fine. One more dinner. One more lie.”
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That night, she walked into what used to be their shared bedroom to grab her charger. What she didn’t expect was to see Elias already there — shirt off, glass of scotch in hand, sitting on the edge of the bed.
> “You’re in the wrong room,” she said, turning to leave.
> “Guest room AC broke. Temporarily.”
> “Convenient.”
He looked up at her — tired, heavy-eyed, human.
> “Camille… I’m not trying to fight you.”
She froze. “Then what are you doing, Elias? Because all this pretending is breaking me. Again.”
The silence between them was deafening.
> “Go to sleep,” he said finally, his voice rough.
> “I would. If I had a place to sleep.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve slept in the same bed before.”
> “That was before we broke.”
Still… she didn’t move.
Neither did he.
And minutes later, they both lay on opposite sides of the same king-size bed, backs turned, breathing uneven.
Camille stared at the ceiling, heart racing.
So close.
So far.
> Thirty days, she told herself.
But her body remembered his warmth.
Her heart remembered the nights when he reached for her.
And her soul knew this would never be just an act.
- Writer
