Married.
My vision fuzzes at the edges, the room softening as if someone turned the focus ring just a little too far.
A stranger.
My life is tethered to his now.
His life is tethered to mine.
I keep my posture intact. Breathe in. Smile. Breathe out. Don’t faint in front of the civil judge.
Camden shifts beside me.
Not dramatically. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough that I feel it, like a change in air pressure.
He doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t reach for my hand or my arm or anything that would make this harder.
He simply leans in, his voice low and pitched only for me.
“You don’t have to call me Camden,” he says quietly.
A beat.
“Cam is fine.”
I give him a look. It's ridiculous and strange. Everything is in the wrong order here.
He exhales through his nose, something like a smile pulling at his mouth.
“Well,” he murmurs, dry and rough at the same time, “my mom is going to have questions.”
The timing is so absurd that a laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. It’s quiet and shaky and probably inappropriate, but it’s real.
I glance up at him.
For the first time since this started, his expression isn’t locked down. There’s tension there, yes, but also something else. A flicker of disbelief. A hint of humor. A man trying to orient himself inside a moment he didn’t plan for.
I feel unsteady. Not in a fainting way. In a standing-on-the-edge-of-something way.
I inhale. Slowly. Deliberately.
Then I meet his gaze and say the only thing that feels honest in this surreal, quiet, legally binding moment.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cam.”
Chapter ten
Cam
Istep into Lila’s penthouse and immediately feel out of place.
The space isn’t just big. It’s curated. Soft lighting glows from places I don’t recognize. The skyline outside the windows looks unreal, like the city is posing for her.
Even the air smells high-end.
I shift the duffel bag on my shoulder and suddenly become painfully aware of it. Of myself. The scuffed sneakers. The cotton T-shirt. I feel like I walked into a jewelry store carrying a gym bag.
Lila walks ahead of me, quiet and precise. Her steps are careful, like she’s learned how to move without drawing attention in her own home. Her shoulders are tight. She doesn’t look back once.
