Page 80 of The Weight of Her Silence
She blinked. “Lila’s?”
He turned, eyes cold. “The one she wrote toyou.”
The smile fell from Camille’s lips.
“She knew you, Camille. From college. From our wedding. Frombefore. You were friends.”
Camille swallowed hard, the illusion peeling off her in layers. “So she told you.”
“You lied to me,” Nate said. “All these years—you made me believe you barely knew her. That you only saw her in passing. You never said—you were at our wedding.”
Camille moved toward the kitchen, like space would save her. “You wouldn’t have understood. I didn’t think it mattered after a while.”
“It mattered to her.”
A pause stretched, heavy and tight.
Nate’s voice cracked. “Why? Why her? Why me? Why pretend to care when you were already planning to take everything?”
Camille laughed bitterly. “You think I planned this? That I woke up one day and thought, ‘I’ll destroy my best friend’s life?’”
“You did.”
“No,” she hissed. “Shehadeverything. The life. The family.You.And she never even saw it. I listened to her cry over you when you came home late. I comforted her when she said you were slipping away. I held her hand through heartbreak after heartbreak—watching herwasteeverything I ever wanted.
Nate stared at her like he didn’t recognize the woman in front of him.
“You were obsessed,” he said quietly.
“Ilovedyou,” Camille snapped.
“No, you loved the idea of winning. Of taking something that wasn’t yours.”
She flinched.
“I thought you were different,” he continued. “When Lila and I were falling apart, I was so angry. You made it easy to step away. You told me what I wanted to hear. You made her the villain.”
“Shewasn’tthe victim you think,” Camille said sharply. “She could be cold. She shut people out. You know that.”
Nate looked at her, something final in his gaze. “She wasreal. She was hurting. And she still chose to stay. To try. Even when she knew what we’d done.”
Camille’s eyes burned. “You came to me. Don’t forget that.”
“I came to you,” he said, voice low, “because I was weak. And you saw that and pulled me deeper. That’s not love, Camille. That’svengeancedressed as comfort.”
Her eyes filled, but there was no softness in them. Only fury. Only heartbreak twisted into something sharp.
“I wanted to matter,” she whispered. “I wantedsomeoneto choose me for once.”
“I never really did,” Nate said. “Not fully. Not the way I chose Lila at the beginning. And not the way I’ll remember her now.”
Silence fell between them.
Camille stood frozen, the truth too ugly to bear.
And Nate turned to leave.
He paused at the door. “She saw you for who you were. And she still didn’t try to ruin you. That’s the difference.”
