Chapter 5 - The Promise Camille Couldn’t Break
André Laurent was not what Ethan wanted him to be.
He wanted arrogance.
He wanted someone obviously selfish.
Someone dismissive.
Someone Ethan could dislike without examining himself too carefully.
Instead André stood when Ethan approached the table.
Tall.
Lean.
Dark-skinned.
Early thirties.
Expensively dressed without looking as if he had tried.
He extended his hand.
“You’re Ethan.”
Not a question.
Ethan shook it.
“André.”
Camille stared into her coffee.
“This was not my idea.”
André sat.
“That’s true.”
Ethan remained standing.
“Then whose idea was it?”
“Mine.”
André gestured toward the chair.
“If you’re willing.”
Every sensible instinct told Ethan to leave.
He sat.
Camille exhaled.
“This is insane.”
“Yes,” Ethan said.
André smiled slightly.
“I agree.”
Camille looked at both of them.
“Great. Wonderful. Men have reached consensus. History is healed.”
Despite himself, Ethan nearly laughed.
The waiter approached.
Ethan ordered coffee.
Nobody spoke until he left.
Then André looked directly at him.
“Camille told me you helped her last night.”
Ethan glanced at Camille.
“She called me for a ride.”
“I know.”
André nodded.
“Thank you.”
Ethan did not know what to do with gratitude from the man standing between him and the woman he wanted.
“You’re welcome.”
Camille rubbed her temples.
“Can we please not behave like I was found wandering beside a highway?”
André looked at her.
“You left dinner crying.”
“I did not cry until I was outside.”
“That distinction feels technical.”
Camille glared.
Ethan suddenly understood why they had loved each other.
Their rhythm was immediate.
Old.
Reflexive.
It hurt to watch.
André turned back to Ethan.
“I’m guessing you think I’m an asshole.”
“André,” Camille warned.
Ethan answered anyway.
“I don’t know you.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Ethan took a breath.
“I think Camille has spent a long time waiting for clarity you could have given her.”
André absorbed the statement.
Camille froze.
Ethan continued.
“But I’ve known her for less than two days. So my opinion should probably carry limited weight.”
André nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
Camille looked irritated with both of them.
“Why did you ask Ethan here?”
André’s expression changed.
“Because last night you told me you didn’t know whether you wanted Dubai because you loved me or because you were afraid that saying no would finally make us over.”
Silence fell.
Ethan wished he were anywhere else.
Camille’s cheeks flushed.
“That was private.”
“I know.”
“So why are you repeating it?”
“Because then you told me about him.”
André looked at Ethan.
“You said meeting someone yesterday made you realize how tired you were of waiting.”
Ethan’s chest tightened.
Camille looked furious.
“Stop.”
André did.
For several seconds.
Then he said softly, “Camille, I came because I thought if I saw you, everything would become obvious.”
Her expression softened despite herself.
“And?”
“It did.”
Ethan braced.
André looked down at his hands.
“I love you.”
Camille closed her eyes.
Ethan stared at the table.
There it was.
Everything simple and impossible at once.
“But,” André continued, “I think I’ve loved you like a place I expect to still exist whenever I come home.”
Camille opened her eyes.
André’s voice remained quiet.
“That isn’t fair.”
She swallowed.
“No.”
“I keep asking you to join my life.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never built one with you.”
Camille looked away.
Something in Ethan’s anger disappeared.
André was not oblivious.
That almost made the situation sadder.
“I meant what I said about Dubai,” André continued. “I want you there.”
Camille looked back at him.
“But?”
“But I don’t know if wanting you beside me is the same as being ready to change how I live.”
The honesty hurt Camille visibly.
Ethan wanted to protect her from it.
He also knew she needed it.
André looked toward the street.
“I’ve been offered things my entire adult life, and I keep believing the next project will be the last one before I settle.”
A bitter smile.
“There’s always another project.”
Camille whispered, “There’s always another flight.”
André nodded.
“Yes.”
The waiter returned with Ethan’s coffee.
Nobody touched anything until he left.
André looked at Camille.
“I’m not asking you to decide today.”
“You already asked me.”
“I’m taking it back.”
Camille stared.
“What?”
“The Dubai invitation.”
Her face changed.
“You can’t just—”
“I’m not withdrawing because I don’t want you.”
André leaned forward.
“I’m withdrawing it because I realized last night that I’m doing the same thing again. I get an opportunity and then ask you to rearrange your life around it.”
Camille’s eyes filled.
André continued.
“If we ever try again, it has to start with a decision we make together.”
The sentence was exactly what Camille had wanted for years.
Ethan could see it.
Which made the next part unbearable.
André reached across the table.
He did not touch her hand.
He simply placed his palm beside it.
“I’ll be back from Dubai in eighteen months.”
Camille laughed through sudden tears.
“That is a terrible follow-up.”
“I know.”
“You just made a beautiful speech and immediately ruined it.”
“I’m consistent.”
She wiped her eyes.
Ethan looked toward the window.
He felt intrusive.
Camille noticed.
“Ethan.”
He turned.
She looked embarrassed.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“This.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.”
André studied him.
Then something strange happened.
He smiled.
Not mockingly.
Almost sadly.
“You really like her.”
Camille’s eyes widened.
Ethan stared at André.
“You have no idea how inappropriate that question is.”
“That’s not a denial.”
“André.”
Camille’s voice sharpened.
He held up both hands.
“Sorry.”
Ethan finished half his coffee in one swallow.
Then looked at Camille.
“I think I should go.”
She stood immediately.
“No.”
André remained seated.
“Camille.”
She ignored him.
“Ethan, please.”
He lowered his voice.
“You need to talk to him.”
“I can talk later.”
“No.”
He smiled faintly.
“Stop watching the floor.”
The words hit her.
Camille stared at him.
“You taught me that, remember?”
Her eyes filled again.
Ethan stood.
“I’ll see you later.”
It was not a question.
Camille nodded.
Outside, the Miami heat hit him immediately.
He walked without direction.
His phone rang ten minutes later.
Daniel.
Ethan answered.
“Tell me something good.”
“You’re married.”
“Yes.”
“That’s all I have.”
Daniel laughed.
“What happened?”
Ethan told him enough.
Not everything.
When he finished, Daniel was quiet.
“You coming back Thursday?”
“Yes.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
“And Camille?”
“I don’t know.”
“You stayed for her.”
Ethan stopped beside a mural painted across the side of a building.
“No.”
Daniel waited.
“I changed the flight because of her.”
Ethan looked at the bright colors.
“But I think I stayed because I didn’t want to go back to being the person I was before I met her.”
Daniel said nothing for a moment.
“That sounds inconveniently healthy.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
At noon, Ethan received a message from Camille.
André left.
A second arrived.
Not Miami. Just breakfast.
Then:
He asked me for one promise before he went.
Ethan stared.
What promise?
The reply took nearly five minutes.
That I would give him an answer before his flight to New York tomorrow night.
Ethan looked at the screen.
Camille had less than thirty-six hours to choose whether the man she had loved for thirteen years still belonged in her future.
May you like
And Ethan had less than three days before he returned to Seattle.
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