FOURTY THREE

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FOURTY - THREE

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"My little girl."

Isla Martin stood at the bottom of the Cameron Estate staircase with her hands folded neatly just below her stomach, a pool of tears welling in her eyes as she watched her - only - daughter make way towards her.

Ophelia had wanted to smile, though instead her face remained lifeless, chapped lips failing to curl upwards as she accepted her mothers embrace, warm arms wrapping around Ophelia's shoulders.

"You look so different." Her mother spoke, fragile hands inspecting every inch of her daughter before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm still me, mom." Ophelia's lips then curled upwards, unsure of who she was trying to convince.

Her mother, or herself.

"Isla." Richard Martin sauntered around the corner, placing a hand on either of the girl's shoulders, narrowing in his stare on his wife. "I love you, my girl." Isla let her hands fall from her daughter, whom tore her stare away from her mother and directed it towards her father.

Without saying anything, Richard let his daughter off in the opposite direction of her mother, finding herself present before Ward and Rafe. At this point, she was unsure of what to expect, and could only brace her self for the worst.

Richard Martin instantly took a seat next to the elder Cameron, while Ophelia's eyes danced across the room towards Rafe, who's back was turned and eyes glued out the window. "Um. I've been thinking, dad."

Spinning on his heels, Rafe was met with Ophelia's stare across the room, almost instantly the same warm, electric feeling rushing through his veins, the muscles in his body then relaxing at the mere sight of his girlfriend.

"I need to know, uh, this is important to me, oaky?" Rafe's fingers fiddled with one another, the highs of his cheeks flushed pink. Ophelia couldn't help but smile, a loose fitted striped polo and khaki shorts being fairly unusual for his attire, though she hadn't seemed to mind the change.

Running a hand through his messy hair, Rafe sat upright in one of the vacant chairs, where as Ophelia remained in place, unsure of why she was there in the first place. It was calming, to say the least, knowing that Rafe was there.

"If it comes down to that moment." Rafe tapped his fingers against the table. "I hate to even be asking you this, okay? But, you know as well as I do that she could just rat me out." The mere thought sent Ophelia looking the other way, coming to an understanding of why exactly she was in this room.

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐋 ❪ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 ❫Where stories live. Discover now