Playing Games

Chapter 3

A week had passed since that conversation in Maurice's car, and Camille had been doing her best to keep him at a distance. Not just physically, but mentally too. Every time his name popped up on her phone or she spotted him across the office, she reminded herself that getting close again would only lead to more confusion. She was finally starting to get her life back on track, and the last thing she needed was to spiral into whatever mess Maurice always seemed to bring with him.

But no matter how hard she tried to stay focused, Maurice was everywhere.

At work, he'd find little ways to check in. "How's the project coming along?" he'd ask casually, as if they didn't have a whole tangled history between them. He always kept it professional in front of everyone else, never pushing too hard. But when it was just the two of them passing in the hallway, it was different. His eyes would linger on hers, just a little too long. The tension between them crackled in the air, even when no words were exchanged.

And Camille? She felt it. Every time. No matter how much she tried to deny it.

One Friday afternoon, she caught herself looking at her phone again, waiting to see if he'd text. She hated that. She hated that after everything, she was still checking for him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be moving on, building herself back up. Not getting caught up in old feelings that should've stayed buried.

But Maurice was making it hard to forget.

---

Later that night, Camille was at home, curled up on her couch with her favorite oversized hoodie and a half-eaten bowl of popcorn. Tamar had invited her out to some event downtown, but Camille had passed. She wasn't really in the mood to be out.

Just as she was settling into her comfort show binge, her phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen, expecting it to be one of her friends or maybe even a work notification. Instead, Maurice's name lit up the screen.

Maurice:

"You still up?"

Camille stared at the message for a long moment, debating whether to respond. It would've been easy to ignore him, pretend she hadn't seen it. But something made her fingers move on their own.

Camille:

"Yeah."

She put her phone down, exhaling sharply. Why did she do that? Why did she always let him pull her back in? It was like every time she tried to put up a wall, Maurice found a way to knock it down with just one text.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed again.

Maurice:

"I miss talking to you."

Camille's heart did a little flip, but she forced herself to stay grounded. She wasn't about to let three words get her caught up again.

Camille:

"We don't have to do this."

She hit send, biting her lip as she stared at the screen, waiting for his response. There was a long pause. Maybe he'd finally get the hint. Maybe he'd leave her alone for good this time.

But then her phone buzzed again.

Maurice:

"I'm not saying we have to. But I want to."

There it was. The persistence. The one thing about Maurice—when he wanted something, he didn't let up. And for some reason, Camille was always the thing he wanted, even when he knew he couldn't handle it.