~Camila’s POV~

It’s been about a week since I left the United States, and the only thing I’m missing is my son. I feel like a bad mother leaving him behind, but then I don’t know if Chris and his ex-wife sorted their difference and Liam is still mine. My mind is all over the place, but I want my son. I’m not sure why I have such a deep connection with the boy. I mean, he has nothing to do with me. His parents have most likely been fucking every day since I left. I think it is high time for me to come to terms with reality. I married him in order to get a United States residency. But I don’t care anymore. I wanted to accomplish things my own way, without the assistance of my family.

I hate it when they help me. I really don’t call for help and when I do ask for help they will come running as they know that I hardly ask for help. I heard a knock at the door before.

“Come in,” I said.

The door swung open to reveal the only person in the universe who brightens my day. I jumped at the chance to hug him.

“My baby!”

“Mommy, I missed you.”

“Who brought you here, mi cielito?” I twirled him around.

“Why did you leave me, Mommy?”

leave you. Mommy came here on a business trip. How can I leave a fine boy like you? Oh my gosh, I missed

you coming back with

my worries have vanished into thin air. How can a little boy offer so much delight to someone who has nothing to do with him? Everything pales in comparison to my feelings for this

become one. I learned by simply sitting and watching my father draw. I decided to forge my own way. I opted to design clothes. I took Liam on a tour of our coffee estate, explaining everything he needed to know about coffee. My little

you

by myself. Grandpa promised me that the pilot would take me to you, so I came

come

the captain and the other passengers

sorry; mommy will never leave you

coming home

home with you, darling. Have you been

been driving me to and

You are my entire world. Why should I be angry with you? Let’s go grab something to eat

and I strolled over to the dining table and took a seat. I noticed my father looking at me, then his gaze moved to my wedding band. But he didn’t say anything. My

obey any of their rules. I am the only member of the family who does not work for the family business, and I dislike attending functions. As a result, just a few people are aware of my existence. Those that do know me are those who

went to my father, and

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