Chapter 2 Drifting Apart

Camden was really angry this time. Even though we lived under the same roof, we slept in separate rooms. The only thing connecting us was a cat. We had adopted it together and named it Felix. Back then, I had clumsily confessed, saying, "Let's take care of it together." His gaze was gentle as his lips curled into a smile. Then, he nodded affirmatively, accepting my love. From then on, I fed it, and he cleaned up after it. But these past few days, Camden had been coming home very late. So, I kept Felix in my room. The little guy seemed lost. At this time of night, it was used to lying on Camden's laptop and causing mischief to get attention. It couldn't speak, but I understood its silent grievance. Unexpectedly, Winona sent me a message. She wrote, "I can return the watch to you. You're getting married soon. Why are you so petty?" I ignored her. I had an obsessive streak. If something that belonged to me was touched by someone else, it was sullied in my eyes. She sent another message. "I'd been utterly helpless that day. A group of people mocked my relationship, saying it was a joke. Don't blame Camden for helping me." I remained silent for a moment before choosing to be sharp-tongued. I texted back, "So, are all your friends and family dead? Why is it that you have to cling to my fiancé for dear life?" Moments later, Camden stormed out of the guest room. "Are you insane? How could you talk to Winona like that? We're done!" The last time Camden said we were done was because I accidentally broke the crystal cup Winona had given him. After he cursed me out, I couldn't help but feel wronged. "I'll replace it with the exact same one," I had said. However, he flew into a rage, "Do you even know what it means to me?" Then he sent me a text with just two words, stating, "We're done." I had stood in a phone booth, desperately pleading with him not to break up with me. My voice cracked so badly that I couldn't even form words. After a long silence, he suddenly said, "Do you have no shame, crying on the street like that?" I froze for two seconds. My mind automatically filled in the words he must have left unspoken—"You're such a drama queen." Then, I said, "Got it." The moment I hung up, it felt like a truckload of cement had been poured into my heart, and it instantly hardened. Whenever something concerned Winona, Camden treated it as an unbroachable subject above any form of criticism. But so what? Now, I didn't care anymore. I kept wondering what he thought of me, expecting me to achieve the impossible. Why should I force myself to meet an impossible standard? So even when Camden posted pictures on Instagram to provoke me, I wasn't the least bit affected. He had helped her fix her computer, saved her a parking spot, and even bought her the same pair of shoes on Amazon. She, on the other hand, brought him lunch, picked up his deliveries, and fixed the mistakes in his work documents. Even when he was traveling between major cities for a new company project, and we didn't speak for four or five days, they still shared songs and joked with each other daily. I could feel it—no matter how much I loved Camden, his indifference was slowly draining me. This went on until a mutual friend of ours couldn't stand it anymore. Our friend, Micah Bennett, arranged a gathering. I, who was never late, arrived half an hour late this time. Winona looked at me with displeasure. "Don't you know it's rude to keep people waiting?" I glanced at her. She had been late countless times. Yet, every time I even asked about it, Camden would put on a stern face and defend her. "She's jet-lagged. It's normal," he had said. Ignoring Winona's complaint, I smiled and said, "Alright, dinner's on me." We settled down into our seats. I sat with Micah. Camden sat across from Winona. I turned to the waiter and ordered a spicy seafood boil. It was Winona's favorite. Camden added, "No parsley, please." At that moment, I remembered the first time the three of us had dinner together. Camden loved parsley, so I had purposely requested that it be added to the food. He had frowned ever so slightly and shot me a glare. Then, he simply instructed the waiter to bring us the same dish but without parsley. Winona laughed smugly. "Estelle, see how thoughtful Camden is? He even remembers I don't like parsley." When one loved another, they remembered everything about that person, down to their obscure dietary habits. Under Winona's provoking gaze, I had almost bitten through my bottom lip. Camden had muttered almost inaudibly in my defense, "She didn't know." However, the damage had been done. From that moment on, I never ate spicy seafood boil again. Micah laughed beside me. "You ladies really dislike parsley, huh?" Camden looked at me in surprise. He seemed to finally realize why I always ordered a dual-flavored seafood boil when we ate together. He was willing to forgo parsley for Winona. I was willing to choke on the spicy seafood boil for him. "Camden isn't a thoughtful guy. It's just that it concerns you," I blurted. I had kept that thought buried for so long. I never understood why everything Winona said and did felt like a knife stabbing straight into my heart. Yet, she always wore such an innocent expression. After we were done with our meal, Micah suggested that Camden and I head home together. But Winona insisted on playing Truth or Dare. When the mouth of the bottle pointed at her after spinning around, she blushed shyly and asked, "If you and Estelle weren't engaged right now, could we get back together?" Her posture and tone made it clear that it was an outright declaration of ownership. It was very shameless of her. The room fell into pin-drop silence. And the person being questioned slowly nodded before uttering, "Yes." Micah was afraid that I would have an outburst. So, he instinctively tugged at my sleeve. I merely responded with a chuckle. "How about this? Since we haven't really gotten married yet, I'll be generous and let you two be together."