SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 181

The penthouse was quiet when Camille arrived home. Only the kitchen light glowed, spilling onto the polished floor. She found Alexander at the island counter, papers spread before him, a glass of whiskey at his elbow. The amber liquid caught the light as he raised it, not looking up when she entered.

"Long day?" he asked, still scanning the document in front of him.

Camille set her bag down, her heart beating faster. The weight of Eleanor Pierce's visit pressed on her shoulders. "You could say that."

She moved to the refrigerator, buying time as she pulled out a bottle of water. Her mind raced, searching for the right words. How do you tell someone their estranged mother showed up after seven years of silence?

"Someone came to see me today," she said, her voice quieter than she intended.

Alexander made a noncommittal sound, still absorbed in his work.

"At the office." Camille twisted the cap off her water. "Your mother."

The stillness that followed was absolute. Alexander's hand froze mid-turn of a page. His shoulders stiffened under his dress shirt. When he finally looked up, his eyes had turned to ice.

"My mother," he repeated, his voice flat. "Eleanor Pierce came to your office."

"Yes. This afternoon."

Alexander set his glass down with careful precision. "And what did my mother want after seven years of silence?"

The coldness in his voice sent a chill through Camille. This was a side of Alexander she rarely saw, the hard edge beneath his usual warmth.

"She wants to see you. To talk." Camille moved closer, resting her hands on the counter. "She says she and your father need to apologize."

Alexander laughed, a sharp sound with no humor in it. "Apologize. That's rich." He stood abruptly, the stool scraping against the floor. "Did she tell you why they might need to apologize? Did she share that particular story?"

"Some of it," Camille said carefully. "About the accident. About James."

"About how they chose to believe my brother instead of me?" Alexander's voice rose slightly. "About how they visited him daily while I was learning to walk again? About how they helped him avoid charges while I went through three surgeries alone?"

He turned away, moving to the window. Outside, the city sparkled in the darkness, a thousand lights against the night sky.

"Alexander..."

"No." His voice cut through the room. "Whatever else she told you, whatever she asked, the answer is no. I'm not interested."

Camille took a slow breath. "She mentioned James's death. Your father's stroke."

Alexander's reflection in the window showed no reaction, but his knuckles whitened where he gripped the sill.

"She said they tried to reach you. That they came to your apartment after James's funeral."

"They did," Alexander said coldly. "With his confession letter in hand. Four years too late."

"You knew about the letter?" Camille asked, surprised.

"Of course I knew," Alexander said, turning to face her. "They sent it by courier after I refused to see them. I sent it back unopened."

Camille moved toward him, stopping when he took a step back. "She brought a photo. Of you as a child. Winning a sailing competition."

Something flickered across his face, pain, quickly masked by anger. "She kept my baby pictures. How touching."

"Alexander, please..."

what, Camille?" His voice was dangerously calm now. "Please meet with the people who abandoned me when I needed them most? Please give them absolution so they can sleep better at night? I already refused when my father had his stroke last month. What makes you think I've

your father's stroke?"

he was asking for me." Alexander's expression hardened. "I told

steadily. "Please listen. Just listen

he would refuse. Then he gave a curt nod, moving back to the counter and his abandoned

I'd see her. She didn't demand anything." Camille chose her words with care. "She said they failed you.

stared into his glass,

just wants a chance to apologize in

trying after all these years? After I've made it abundantly clear I want nothing to

closer, relieved when he didn't pull away. "Your father struggled to accept what they'd done, that they'd chosen

sharp click.

Camille said. "Still trying

now because they're getting older. Because James is gone and they're facing their own mortality. They want

conceded. "Does that make their regret

the kitchen. His movements reminded Camille

what it was like," he said finally. "James was always their golden child. The star athlete, the popular one, the son who could do no wrong. When the accident happened..." His voice caught.

stayed silent,

"They looked

ame

bed with pins in my leg.... and told me I must be confused. That James said I had wanted to drive but he

too much to

"James, the responsible one. James, who

you that part?

Camille said softly. "She just said they made a terrible

Alexander's voice dripped with disdain. "Is that what we're calling it?"

in the air between them. Alexander stared into his glass as

he said finally. "The kind you don't come back

distance until she stood just a step away. "I thought the same thing

parents were manipulated by Rose. They didn't choose to believe her over you out of preference." "Didn't they?" Camille held his gaze. "They wanted to believe her

when he didn't pull away. "I'm not saying you should forgive them. I'm not saying what they did wasn't horrible. I'm just asking you to listen to them. Once.

hers. "Why are you pushing this? After I've already

a door is closed forever," Camille said quietly. "To believe some wounds can never

of the slow rebuilding of trust between them. Of the unexpected

haven't earned a second chance.... I'll

a long moment, he

if you still have nightmares," Camille said softly.

events."

snapped around, surprise breaking

as something shifted in his expression. "It was the last thing she asked. If you

the window, but not before Camille caught the

told her you have me now," she continued. "That you don't face

minutes stretched between them, filled only with the distant sounds of the city

said, his voice low. "In a public place. And

about what happens afterward."

washed through Camille.

Alexander turned to face her, his expression softened but serious. "You're asking me to reopen wounds that took years to heal. To face people who chose

to her, taking her hands in his. "But you're

don't face things alone