Chapter 8 – Lines We Can’t Cross
302 Words
Camille barely slept.
Elias’s words from the night before kept echoing in her mind, slipping into her dreams like a song she couldn’t turn off.
> And that’s exactly why this divorce is going to ruin us both.
By morning, she’d convinced herself to stay away from him. No coffee in the shared kitchen, no casual conversations, no lingering glances. If they stuck to the deal’s terms, maybe they’d survive these last weeks without bleeding too much.
But fate — or cruel luck — had other plans.
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They ended up at the same charity gala that evening, both invited months ago before the divorce papers were even drafted. She spotted him first, standing near the bar, tuxedo crisp, smile effortless… until his eyes found hers.
He didn’t look away.
Camille forced herself to keep walking, greeting acquaintances, sipping champagne she didn’t even like. But every time she glanced toward the bar, he was still watching.
Eventually, she found herself outside on the balcony, desperate for air.
“Running away again?” Elias’s voice was suddenly behind her.
She turned, irritation masking the quick thump in her chest. “Just needed space.”
He stepped closer, his cologne mixing with the crisp night air. “You keep saying that. But space won’t erase what’s between us.”
She met his gaze, voice sharp. “What’s between us is a legal agreement, Elias. Nothing more.”
He smirked — but there was pain under it. “If that’s true, then why do you look at me like this?”
Camille froze.
Before she could answer, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers lingering too long. Her breath caught.
> “We can’t do this,” she whispered.
> “Then tell me to stop,” he murmured.
But she didn’t.
- Writer
