Page 57 of The Weight of Her Silence
Ten years of lies he told his wife.
Ten years of stolen nights, hotel rooms, bruising kisses, and words she’d held onto like oxygen.
"It’s different with you."
"I can breathe with you."
"Lila doesn’t see me anymore."
Camille had built her entire identity around being the woman he ran to.
Not the wife. Not the mother of his children. But the one who made him feel alive.
But now? The silence was louder than his promises. She scrolled through their messages. Her last one:Are you okay? I'm worried. I miss you.
Read.No reply.
She threw the phone across the bed.
This wasn’t like him.
Even when Lila had collapsed—she’d heard through a friend who knew someone at the hospital—Nate had still called her later that night. Shaky voice. Guilt dripping off every syllable. But he’d called.
Now? Nothing.
Camille stood and crossed the room to the dresser. Opened the drawer with all the little keepsakes she never let anyone see.
The hotel keycard from the first night. The tie he left behind once, smelling like his cologne. A photo she had printed from a blurry snapshot of the two of them taken on his burner phone.
She stared at it now, her throat tightening. In the photo, he was smiling. Not the polished husband smile she’d seen him wear at corporate events with Lila on his arm—but a real one.
Crooked. Carefree. The smile of a man who belonged to her, if only for that moment.
That was real. Wasn’t it?
She reached for her phone again and typed, slowly.
I know things are hard right now. But don’t shut me out. I’ve been with you through everything. Please don’t forget that. Don’t forget us.
She hesitated. Then hit send.
Seconds ticked by.
Read. No reply.
Her jaw clenched. Her fingers shook.
He was pulling away. She could feel it like a wire unraveling in her chest. It wasn’t just the wife’s illness. It wasn’t just the kids.
It was him—changing.
And that terrified her more than anything because Camille had built her world around the idea that one day, he would finally choose her. She wouldn’t let him go quietly.
Not after everything.
Not when he owed her more than silence.
Chapter 37
