Chapter 3
"What happened last night? It wasn't me, really. You must have mistaken me for someone else!" I stammered.
Camilla took off her mask and let out a soft laugh.
"Oh?" she said. "So you're just going to act like you don't know me now that you've got your pants back on?"
I was screwed.
She definitely remembered everything.
And she didn't look like she was going to let me off the hook.
"Uh, I just remembered that my neighbor's cat just had kittens, and there's a big celebration today. I really gotta run!" I stammered.
I hurriedly flung the door open and limped out, not even glancing back.
By the time I stepped out of the hospital, it was already afternoon.
When I got home, a dull ache lingered in my neck and thighs.
But that physical pain was nothing compared to the restless panic twisting in my chest, making it impossible to sit still.
Scenes from last night kept invading my mind, completely out of my control.
The two of us, bodies entwined—no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't untangle that memory.
I blamed all the craziness from last night on the alcohol.
I hadn't celebrated my birthday in ages.
Yesterday just happened to be a reunion with some old high school friends.
Honestly, I thought Camilla wouldn't show up. After all, I'd heard she was a doctor now and even married.
But she came anyway.
She walked in wearing a black dress, her long hair in loose waves, and those stiletto heels gave her an elegant edge.
Gone was the awkwardness of her teenage years. Now she had this icy, captivating aura that made her impossible to ignore.
The moment she stepped inside, the whole room fell silent for a second.
"Sorry I'm late, I was on duty at the hospital," she said with a smile, her eyes sweeping over everyone before landing on me.
My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to stay calm and scooted over to make room for her.
"It's an honor to have you here, Dr. Hardin," someone said.
We drank quite a bit that night.
I even worked up the nerve to add her as a friend on social media.
"It's my birthday today. Wanna grab a drink after this?" I asked.
She nodded, a faint smile playing at her lips.
How we ended up at the hotel was a blur.
But the sound of her restrained breathing was hauntingly vivid in my mind.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was my mom calling. "Son, I heard you got into a car accident. Why weren't you more careful?"
Her voice was laced with worry—and just a bit of that classic mom interrogation.
"It's really nothing, Mom. Just... just a couple of scratches," I replied.
"Just a couple of scratches? He got three stitches, you know!" Out of nowhere, Camilla chimed in on the call.
My brain short-circuited.
Wait, how did these two get mixed up together?
Wasn't Camilla supposed to be at the hospital?
"Mom, why are you with Camilla right now?" I stammered.
"I just happened to run into Lydia at the mall today. We hadn't seen each other in over ten years, so we just went over to their place to catch up. What's the big deal?"
Mom sounded totally casual about it.
"If Camilla hadn't told me, were you just going to keep hiding this from me forever?" she added.
"Hello? Son? Why aren't you saying anything?" Mom asked.
"I... I've got something to take care of," I mumbled.
Mom said, "Alright, go ahead and handle your business. I'll have Lydia come over to your place another day. She said it's fine, and you two used to hang out together all the time when you were kids, remember?"
"Lydia, actually I'm free right now. I'll come over and see you guys," I said.
It hit me like a ton of bricks.
I slumped onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling, feeling like my whole world had just turned gray.
I swear, this might just kill me.
The doorbell rang.
I didn't even have to guess. I knew it was Camilla.
I opened the door.
A subtle fragrance wafted in as she stepped inside.
She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater.
It looked modest at first, but the fabric hugged every curve.
It traced her shapely figure and slender waist without holding anything back.
She wore a sleek black pencil skirt and sheer black stockings, both clinging tightly to her hips and thighs.
"Had enough staring? Or are you going to invite me in?" she said, her tone even, but a faint smile played at her lips.
"Uh, you're here. Come on in," I stammered.
Camilla raised an eyebrow.
She clicked her way in on black stilettos, her eyes sweeping over the cramped living room.
She made her way to the couch and sat down, elegantly crossing her legs.
Her black skirt rode up just a bit as she settled in.
A flash of bare skin appeared—an unspoken invitation in the dim light of the living room.
She tapped her fingers lightly on her thigh, her gaze slowly and lazily sliding up to my face.
"Like what you see?" she asked.
Getting caught in the act made me feel pretty awkward.
I instinctively looked away, but couldn't resist stealing a few more glances at her.
"Want some water? I can pour you a glass..." I offered.
"No," Camilla cut me off.
She leaned in, elbow on her knee, chin in her hand, staring right at me.
"Robert, we need to talk," she said.