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Over the next few days, Camilla mulled over what Storm had said to her. She couldn't help it really, not when his confession had surprised her.
The very first day she had met Storm, she had known that something had happened in his past. And she'd known from that night that they'd washed up together in her parents kitchen that it had something to do with his parents.
What she hadn't expected was a tale of neglect and grief.
After Storm had told her what had happened, they'd merely sat there in silence. With the sound of the wind and chatter surrounding them, they revelled in it. In fact, Camilla had found that in these instances, silence was the only thing that could help cure the pain that intertwined itself around you.
Camilla had been so enveloped by it that Storm's hand squeezing hers had brought her back. She'd smiled sheepishly at him and shrugged, realising he had been calling her for the past few minutes.
After that, they'd walked out of the park and had lunch at a local patisserie which had the most incredible cakes she'd ever tasted. Her favourite had been the apple almond frangipane with toasted almonds surrounding the very top of the little tart with just a dusting of icing sugar.
There was a downside to being surrounded by so many cakes, they'd both ended up eating more than they'd anticipated. Camilla finally slumped over and cupped her abdomen, groaning slightly at how full she felt. Storm however had merely grinned and popped a whole strawberry into his mouth.
"I'm impressed you're eating pastries," she'd noted with a raised brow. "Since you're so healthy,"
He'd laughed, informing her that if there was any day to indulge, today was it. With that, she'd remained in her seat until he had finished, although she did suspect he did so more for herself than him. They'd also argued about the bill, until Storm shut her up with his lips and paid, leaving her grinning but also annoyed that he'd managed to slip that past her.
By the time they'd arrived at Storm's, she was exhausted and she'd collapsed on his bed. She'd reluctantly pushed herself under the covers, and realised she couldn't sleep – not when she remembered the box of letters that were underneath her. Between everything that had happened today – his reaction and what he had confessed, she was simultaneously mentally drained. Some things just didn't appear to add up. Was his mother alive? Or did he just never have contact with her again? He hadn't mentioned her after the story of her neglect, not that Camilla could blame him.
Which was why two days later, as she sat in the little office Sandra had set up, all she could think about was Storm's problems and not hers. Perhaps she was reflecting, she wondered. She'd read up on that, putting your own problems on the backseat so that you wouldn't have to think about them.
But then Sandra arrived, setting a large bundle of papers before them with a warm smile. She appeared to be a bubbly woman – short blond hair, green eyes and dimples for days. Despite this, she was rather tall but sat on a comfortable armchair that was similar to the one Camilla was in.
