"Thank god for you," I say, meaning it more than I can express.
She winks. "Love you too, girl."
Chapter 26
Alexander
"Fuck," I mutter to the empty office. My hand finds my tie, loosening it in the hopes of releasing some of the pressure building in my chest.
My phone buzzes on the desk—Julian, confirming they're on their way up. They. Not just Camille, but Julian and Tristan too. Her new... what? Boyfriends? Fuck buddies? The words stick in my throat like shards of glass.
I've never considered myself the jealous type. In business, in life, I've always operated with the cold certainty that if something—or someone—can be taken from me, they were never truly mine to begin with. But this is different. This cuts deeper than I expected.
My reflection in the window looks back at me, accusing. What did you expect? That she'd wait forever? That she'd pine away for a man who couldn't even bother to answer a text?
There's a bitter irony in all of this. I pushed her away because I was afraid—afraid of how she made me feel, afraid of needing someone, afraid of becoming my father.
But there's a child now. My child. Our child. That changes everything, whether I'm ready for it or not.
The intercom buzzes, my assistant's voice filtering through. "Mr. Kingsley, Ms. Montclair is here with Mr. Fairfax and Mr. Vale."
"Send them in," I say, surprised by the steadiness in my voice when everything inside me feels like it's coming apart.
I move to stand behind my desk. Power dynamics matter in negotiations, and this—whatever this conversation is about to be—feels like the most important negotiation of my life.
The door opens, and they enter as a unit. Camille first, Julian and Tristan flanking her like guards. My eyes go straight to her midsection, searching for evidence of the life growing there. Her loose blouse reveals nothing.
"Alexander," she says, her voice cool and controlled. She's nervous though—I can tell by the way she chews briefly at her bottom lip. It’s obvious she’s still pissed about how I behaved last week when I showed up expectantly at her office.
"Camille." Her name in my mouth feels both familiar and foreign. "Thank you for coming."
Julian closes the door behind them, his usual easy smile nowhere to be found. Tristan's expression is equally serious, his blue eyes watchful and wary.
"Please, sit," I gesture to the chairs across from my desk, but only Camille moves toward them. Julian and Tristan remain standing, positioned on either side of her chair once she sits. A wall of male protection that I am explicitly outside of.
"You look well," I say, because I can't think of anything else that won't sound accusatory or bitter.
"I am well," Camille replies, her hands folded in her lap. "The morning sickness has mostly passed."
Morning sickness. A concrete detail of a reality I've been absent from. Julian's hand rests on the back of her chair, his fingers just brushing her shoulder. The touch seems natural. Like he's done it a hundred times before.
"How far along are you?" I ask, though I know the answer. I've done the math, counted back to that night when we lost ourselves in each other and I made a decision that changed everything.
"Fourteen weeks," she says.
I nod, swallowing down the bitter taste of regret. "And everything is... healthy?"
"Yes," Tristan answers before Camille can. "Her doctor says everything looks perfect. Strong heartbeat, normal growth."
The way he says "her doctor" twists something in my gut. As if he has a right to know these things, to speak for Camille when it comes to our child. I fight to keep my expression neutral, to not let the jealousy show on my face.
"I'd like to be involved," I say, looking directly at Camille. "In the pregnancy, in our child's life. I know I haven't been there so far, but I want to change that."
Julian's hand tightens slightly on Camille's shoulder. "That's Camille's decision to make," he says, his voice steady but with an edge I've rarely heard from him.
"I'm aware of that," I reply, not looking away from Camille's face. "I'm telling her what I want. What I'm hoping for."
Camille's eyes meet mine, and for a moment I see a flash of the woman who, for a brief times, look at me with such open desire, such unflinching honesty. Then it's gone, replaced by something more guarded.
