Chapter 33

Footsteps echoed outside the door. Damien was back.

"Dad!"

He strode into the room, making straight for the bed.

Camille tried to set Chloe down to give him space. But the little girl clung tighter, reaching for Damien while still nestled in Camille's arms.

He lifted Chloe effortlessly.

As he held their daughter, Camille caught the familiar musk of his cologne. Mixed with it was a delicate floral perfume she recognized instantly - the same scent Selene had been wearing at dinner.

Camille looked away and stepped back until his scent no longer surrounded her.

Damien rested his watch-clad hand against Chloe's forehead. "Her temperature?" His voice was all business. "Any improvement?"

Camille repeated the doctor's words mechanically. "The fever broke, but it could spike again."

He nodded.

Settling on the bed with Chloe, he frowned when she squirmed. "Daddy, your jacket scratches."

Without a word, he shrugged off the tailored blazer and handed it to Camille. She took it automatically, then froze as the mingled scents rose from the fabric. The reality hit her like ice water - their divorce was imminent.

Once, she would have treasured holding his jacket, pressing it close as if it could bridge the growing distance between them. Now she set it aside carelessly. "I'll make chicken noodle soup."

With both parents home, Chloe perked up immediately. "Okay. Thanks, Mommy."

Camille forced a smile and left. She didn't see Damien's lingering gaze on the jacket draped over the chair.

Twenty minutes later, soup simmering, she washed up and hesitated at the foot of the stairs.

At the second-floor landing, she turned and spotted Damien at the far end of the hallway, phone to his ear by the window.

"The fever's down. Don't worry." His voice carried.

Was that Selene he was reassuring? Did the woman actually care about Chloe's wellbeing? Camille turned sharply and entered the nursery.

Chloe slept soundly post-IV, her forehead damp with sweat. Marianne was dabbing it gently when Camille entered. The housekeeper immediately stood, offering the cloth.

Marianne expected Camille to take over as usual. After all, she'd always handled everything for both Chloe and Damien alone.

Camille shook her head. Marianne blinked in surprise but quickly resumed tending to Chloe.

Perched on the couch, Camille asked, "The doctor left?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What did he say? Will the fever return?" She needed to know whether to stay.

"Doctor said it likely won't."

"Good." With Chloe recovering, her presence wasn't necessary overnight.

The soup bubbled softly. After a while, she went downstairs to find Marianne in the kitchen.

"Let me finish, Mrs. Harrington." Marianne gave her a concerned look. "You look exhausted. Go rest."