Page 107 of Beyond Oblivion

“That’s the thing,” I said, wiping the tear that had escaped down my cheek. “I’m not just watching.”

Beck pulled a tissue from the box on my desk and handed it to me, stepping back behind Sylvie.

Hazel didn’t answer right away, and when she did, her tone was careful. “You know him better than anyone. He won’t give up. But it’s going to take time. You just have to decide if you want to stick around long enough for him to get his shit together.”

Her honesty stung, but I appreciated it more than empty reassurances. Before I could say anything else, the phone rang again, breaking the moment. I picked it up, expecting another irate customer, but instead, Thomas’s voice filled my ear.

“Hey, Camille.”

Hearing him was like a tether I hadn’t known I needed. “Thomas?”

“You sound like you’ve had a day,” he said, his tone gentle but knowing.

“You could say that,” I replied, glancing at my co-workers, who left me to find something to do in the back. “Trent’s still… struggling.”

Thomas sighed on the other end of the line. “I hate that for both of you. I’ve been thinking—maybe you two need a break. Get out of there for a bit. Clear your heads.”

I rubbed my temple as a dull ache began to form behind my eyes. “Whatever this is will still be here when we get back, and with him taking off so much work, getting deeper in debt is the last thing we need.”

“It’s not running,” Thomas insisted. “It’s stepping back so you can both breathe. What you need is to reconnect, to each other and to nature, away from all the reminders in Eakins. There’s a place I go when I need to reset—a little rental in the desert. Beautiful views, quiet trails, and a sense of peace you can’t find anywhere else. Gorges, stargazing, a chance to feel like two people in love again.”

The thought of leaving everything behind, even for a little while, felt like both a blessing and an escape I didn’t deserve. “He said every time he looks at me, it hurts him. Maybe he should just go with you.”

He hesitated, clearly working to steady his voice, though I could tell from the way he breathed that he was angry. Even after all these years, long after our relationship had ended, Thomas still slipped into that protective role—sometimes welcome, sometimes not.

“Absolutely not. Separating is the worst thing you two could do right now.”

I waited a beat. “I don’t know if he’ll go for it.”

“So don’t ask him,” Thomas said. “Just say yes, and I’ll handle the rest. I’ll book the rental, the airfare, everything. We’ll meet you out there. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun,” I repeated, spiraling the phone cord around my finger. “Okay,” I conceded. “Book it.”

Once I hung up the phone, I closed my eyes. “Hazel?” I called.

“It’s fine,” she said, rounding the corner. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve got it.”

“I’ll think of someone to call in to help, I’ll—” I began, but she held up her gloved hand.

“Who do you think ran this place before you showed up? I trained you, remember? Thomas is right. This is your chance to turn things around. Take it.”

I locked up the shop as the last light faded from the sky, the worry that Trenton might flat refuse Thomas’s gift settling heavily on my shoulders. If Trenton was his old self, it wouldn’t cross my mind, but these days, I had no idea how he’d react to even the most benign mention of his brothers.

When I got home, I found Trenton in the kitchen, scrubbing the counters with a level of focus that would’ve been impressive if it hadn’t been so obviously fueled the storms raging inside him.

“Man,” I said. “I hate it when I get home so late all the neighbors’ lights are off.”

“Not sure why you’re late if there’s no clients.”

“We have clients.”

“Did Bishop come back?” he asked, for some reason unhappy about that possibility.

“No. I’ve been on the phone most of the night. I’m hoping for at least one bigger name to draw in more business. You’re cleaning?” I asked, setting my bag down on the table.

He glanced up, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, I guess I’m not completely useless.”

I stood there for a moment, unsure how to approach him. “You’re not useless,” I said. “Thank you. The kitchen needed a good deep clean.”

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