Henry's POV
"It's Henry. I'm here with Camila, and she's had a bit too much to drink. I need to get her home, but she's not responding. Can you help me with her address?" I asked, my voice edged with urgency.
There was a moment of silence, then Nancy sighed heavily on the other end. "Henry, what happened? Why is Camila with you? And why is she drunk?"
I rubbed my temples, feeling the tension settle behind my eyes. "It's a long story, Nancy. Please, just give me her address."
She hesitated, clearly torn, then finally gave in. "Fine. But please take care of her, okay? Make sure she's safe."
"I will. Thanks." I ended the call and turned to Camila, who was still sitting quietly, her expression distant.
"Come on, Camila. I'm taking you home," I said gently, helping her to her feet. She stumbled, and I caught her in my arms, steadying her against my chest.
As we stepped out into the night and into a cab, a whirlwind of emotions stirred inside me—frustration, concern… and something else. Something deeper. I glanced down at her. Her head rested softly on my shoulder, her dark hair falling like a curtain over her face.
She looked heartbreakingly beautiful even in this state—fragile, vulnerable. I felt a deep ache in my chest, a protectiveness I hadn't expected.
The ride to her apartment felt like an eternity. When we finally arrived, I helped her out and supported her up the stairs. But as we reached her door, someone was already standing there, arms crossed, eyes burning with suspicion.
The man turned and immediately zeroed in on me, his expression hardening when he saw me holding her.
"Camila, what the hell is going on?" His tone was cold, demanding. "And who the hell is this?"
Camila blinked, swaying slightly. "I—I…" she stammered, her words lost somewhere in the haze. I could see the conflict in her eyes and decided to step in.
"I'm Henry," I said calmly, offering my hand. He looked at it like it was poison but shook it anyway.
"Matthew," he muttered. "I'm Camila's fiancé."
"You mean ex-fiancé," Camila corrected, her voice sharper now, the alcohol haze seemingly lifting. "We broke up, remember?"
Matthew's jaw tightened. "So you moved on that quickly?"
"And how is that any of your business?" she shot back, her eyes flashing.
Matthew ran a hand through his hair, frustration painting his face. "I came here to apologize. I didn't expect you to be with someone else already. Camila, how could you?"
Camila crossed her arms, glaring at him. "There's nothing to discuss, Matthew. We're done. You made your choices, and so did I."
"I made a mistake!" he exclaimed. "I regret what I did. I thought we could fix things."
"You thought wrong," she said, her voice steady. "You cheated on me. You judged me though I couldn't give you a family. And now you want to fix things because you realized you lost something good?"
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off coldly.
"Well, newsflash I'm pregnant. And the man standing next to me… he's the father."
Silence dropped like a hammer.
Matthew stared at her, stunned. "You're what? Pregnant? With his child?"
Camila nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes. And we're moving forward. Together."
"You lied to me… You said you couldn't get pregnant!" he shouted.
She scoffed. "No, you assumed. You never even gave me a chance. And you left when I needed you most. You don't get to walk back in and demand explanations."
Matthew's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "How could you do this to me?"
"Don't turn this around on me, Matthew!" she snapped. "You betrayed me. You made me feel worthless. And now you're angry because I've found someone who sees my worth? Save it."
He shook his head, at a loss for words.
"Go back to the woman you cheated with. I hope she's everything you thought I wasn't," she added. And then, with a smirk, "And maybe get a paternity test while you're at it. I don't think that baby's yours."
Matthew's face twisted with rage and disbelief. But he didn't say another word. He turned on his heel and stormed off down the hallway.
Camila turned to unlock her door. I stood there, still stunned by her fire and strength.
"You okay?" I asked softly.
She looked at me, her eyes glimmering. "I am now."