Chapter 3: Playing the Part
339 Words
The gala was every bit the nightmare Camille expected. Crystal chandeliers, polite laughter, and far too many curious eyes.
She felt Elias’s arm tighten around her waist the moment they stepped inside. His perfect mask was already in place — confident, controlled, untouchable.
> “Smile,” he murmured through his teeth.
> “I am smiling,” she hissed back.
> “Convincingly, Camille.”
She clenched her jaw and turned her lips upward, letting the cameras catch what looked like the happiest wife on earth.
They made their rounds, greeting business partners, shareholders, and well-wishers. More than once, Camille felt her throat close as someone said:
> “You two are such a perfect match.”
If only they knew.
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Halfway through the night, she excused herself, needing air. The balcony was blessedly quiet, the city glittering far below.
She closed her eyes, fighting the swirl of memories. Their wedding day. The smiles that had once been real. The promises that had died so quickly.
> Why does it still hurt?
“Running away?”
She jumped at Elias’s voice behind her.
> “I needed a minute,” she snapped.
He stepped closer, hands in his pockets, studying her with that infuriatingly calm stare.
> “You’re doing well tonight,” he said.
> “How comforting.”
> “Camille—”
> “Don’t,” she cut him off. “Don’t say my name like that.”
He looked wounded for a second — just a flash, but enough to knock the breath out of her.
> “We’re both pretending, remember?” she added, voice shaking.
> “Maybe,” he said quietly, “some things don’t need to be pretend.”
Before she could answer, the ballroom doors opened and a photographer stepped out, calling them back inside.
The moment shattered.
Camille straightened her shoulders, walking past Elias without a word, trying to hold herself together.
Thirty days. That was the deal.
But her heart was already breaking all over again
- Writer
