Camille exhales slowly.
“The part of you that actually lets someone in.”
I say nothing.
She gives me a tired look.
“There has always been some part of you I can’t reach. I used to think it was just the company. Then I thought maybe it was what happened years ago, before me. I know there was someone. You never gave me details, and I never asked for them, but I knew enough to understand that whatever happened changed you.”
My jaw tightens.
Camille notices.
“I’m not asking who she was,” she says.
“I’m telling you that I’ve spent three years feeling like I came into your life after something had already closed.”
I look away for a moment, toward the dark windows.
“That isn’t fair to you,” I say.
“No,” Camille replies. “It isn’t.”
I rub a hand over my jaw.
“We’ve had problems on both sides.”
“I know.”
“There was Brian.”
Camille’s expression hardens. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything.”
“You’re bringing him up because you want to balance the scale.”
“I never held it against you.”
“Because there was nothing to hold against me,” Camille says.
“Brian was going through something. Yes, he’s my ex, and yes, I spoke to him more than you liked. But I didn’t cross a line with him, and when you told me it made you uncomfortable, I dealt with it.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t use that now.”
I nod once. “Fair.”
Camille looks down at her hands.
“This is different.”
“How?”
“Because this isn’t one incident.”
She looks back at me.