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HILL HOUSE, NOW
Camille sat on the couch in Theo's guest house, her legs tucked under her. One hand was rubbing at her temple, while the other was nursing a hot cup of coffee. She hadn't seen Theo since earlier that morning. Her car wasn't in the driveway and hadn't been for quite some time. Millie wasn't sure if she'd see her again before she left for California.
Shirley kept herself cooped up in her house too, probably drowning herself with work. She always liked to keep herself busy when her family life was getting too stressful, it kept her mind off of her problems. But Millie had seen Kevin a few times since that morning, as he wanted to check if the girl was alright. He'd even stopped by with lunch, seeing as the girl hadn't eaten in nearly 24 hours.
The sandwich sat on the table ahead of her, half-eaten. She debated on just downing the rest, but she wasn't sure if her stomach could handle it. She had a six hour flight ahead of her and a terrible fear of airplanes — food was the last thing she needed until she touched down in California.
My Heart Belongs to Only You suddenly blared from her phone. The Bobby Vinton, almost ancient song made her heart swell. When Camille and Luke first began to date, that song seemed to follow them every where. It played at diners, restaurants, and began to pop up in her Spotify constantly. The two took it as a sign, and it soon became their song.
Millie smiled as she answered the phone. "Hey, Luke."
"Hey, babe," he greeted, the bright smile he had on his face was evident in his voice. Goosebumps appeared on Camille's skin. His voice flowed through her ears like honey; it was the sweetest sound she'd ever heard.
"How are you doing, love?"
"Well, uh," he breathed out a chuckle. "I got my 90 day chip today."
Camille let out a happy, surprised laugh. She couldn't believe how fast those ninety days flew by; and she also couldn't believe he'd remained sober for that time. Of course, she was so insanely proud of him, but with all the times he'd skipped out of rehab, Millie was scared he'd never be sober again. But Luke promised a few months ago that he was going to get better — "for real this time" he'd said — and he was beginning to prove it to her.
"Wow, Luke..." she sighed contently. "I'm so, so proud of you."
Camille tucked a ornery strand of hair behind her ear. As she stood up from the couch and walked outside, revelling the cool, fall breeze against her skin. Grey clouds hung low in the sky and it smelled like rain.
"Yeah..." he simply replied, his voice sounding so far away. There was a brief pause on his side of the line and Camille furrowed her brows at his sudden silence. "I-I'm sorry."
"Why?" she asked, crossing an arm over her chest.
"You should hate me."
Camille sighed. The couple had been through a lot together: they battled through financial crises, struggled with moving from Massachusetts to California, and they fought with Luke's drug addiction. The latter problem being the hardest of the three. In the beginning it was always the same thing: a new rehab centre, a cryptic message from Luke a month or so later, and a stressed out Steve and Camille finding him on a side street in an awful part of L.A. It lasted so long, Camille debated on just giving up on him — she'd spent thousands of dollars on rehab for him to run away just a few weeks later — but she was so glad she hadn't.
