SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

STEFAN'S POINT OF VIEW

The scotch burned going down, but I poured another anyway. My third? Fourth? I'd lost count somewhere between signing those divorce papers and watching Camille walk away.

Our wedding photo still sat on my desk, mocking me. Camille's genuine smile, my distracted eyes, already looking past her, always looking for Rose.

Rose.

Even her name felt like betrayal now.

My phone lit up with another message from her: "Darling, stop drinking and come over. We should celebrate."

Celebrate. Like we hadn't just destroyed someone who loved us. Someone who'd given me three years of devotion I never deserved.

The memory hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Stefan?" Camille's voice was small, uncertain. "Did I do something wrong?"

I looked up from my laptop, irritated at the interruption. She stood in the doorway of my home office, holding a plate of something that smelled amazing.

"I made that pasta you mentioned. The one with truffles?" Her eyes were hopeful. "Rose gave me the recipe..."

Of course she had. Rose had made that pasta for me in Rome, years ago. Back when we were... whatever we were.

"I'm busy." I didn't even look at the plate. "Just leave it."

"Oh." A pause. "It's just, you've been working late all week, and I thought..."

"Camille." My voice sharp with an anger that wasn't really meant for her. "I said I'm busy."

She left the plate and disappeared, quiet as always. The pasta sat untouched until morning, a perfect recreation of a memory that belonged to another woman.

I hurled my glass at the wall, watching crystal shatter like the life I'd built on lies.

been cruel. Not just at the end, but throughout our marriage. Every missed dinner, every forgotten anniversary, every time I'd chosen work over her,

again.

Are you alright? Do you need anything? I

another moment I'd tried to

trying so hard, Stefan." Rose's voice was gentle as she poured me another drink. We were alone in my office after another

my voice. "Teaching her all the ways to be

musical, practiced. Everything about her was practiced. "Are you saying you preferred

air between us crackled with unspoken history. Four years of passion and plans,

did you really leave?" The question slipped out, colored by whiskey

She touched my cheek, familiar and forbidden. "Camille needed a chance at

anymore. Everything from that time felt hazy, manipulated. Like watching a play

you," Rose whispered, too close now.

said something different.

memory surfaced, this one from last

breakfast." Camille's smile was bright, genuine. Always so damn genuine. "Happy

perfume still lingering on my clothes from our

grabbed my keys,

slightly. "Will you be home for

"Don't wait up."

evening with Rose, planning how to break the news. She'd

in Rome,

kinder this way," she'd said, stroking my hair. "A clean break. Camille

in her eyes when

door opened, startling me from

coiffed even at

alone in the

"Not now, Mother."

room, surveying the broken glass with disapproval. "Rose is

"Like you

you." Mother's voice

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