Chapter 6 - The Encounter In Camden
The coastal fog rolled thick off Penobscot Bay, wrapping the town of Camden in a cool, salty mist. Claire walked slowly along the wooden sidewalk, carrying a canvas tote bag filled with fresh apples, prenatal milk, and a bundle of baby onesies she had bought at the local consignment boutique.
Every kick against her ribs reminded her of the new life she was building. For the first few weeks after leaving Chicago, she had cried herself to sleep, mourning the eight years she had poured into a man who regarded her as a replaceable domestic fixture. But the ocean air and the quiet routine had healed her spirit. Here, nobody knew her as the billionaire's dutiful, silent wife. She was just Claire Hastings—the kind woman who baked lemon loaves for her elderly neighbors and spent afternoons reading by the shore.
As she reached the front gate of her small, gray-shingled cottage, she stopped.
A tall figure stood on the wooden porch, sheltered beneath the overhang from the light drizzle.
Claire’s heart dropped into her stomach. Her grip on her grocery bag tightened until her knuckles turned white.
Vincent.
He looked unrecognizable. The ruthless, impeccably groomed CEO was gone. He wore a simple dark wool coat and no tie, his collar open. His hair was messy from the sea wind, his cheeks hollow, and his eyes bloodshot with profound exhaustion. When he saw her standing by the gate, he didn't stride forward with his usual commanding arrogance. Instead, he took a hesitant step back, as if he feared his very presence might shatter her.
"Claire," he breathed, his voice barely carrying over the sound of the rain.
Claire stood her ground, her maternal instincts instantly kicking into overdrive. She placed a protective arm across her swollen belly, her expression hardening into stone.
"How did you find me, Vincent?"
"It doesn't matter," he said softly, his voice trembling. His eyes dropped to her stomach, and a look of such overwhelming tenderness and grief crossed his face that Claire had to look away to keep her composure. "Please... just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for. Just five minutes."
"I have nothing to say to you," Claire said, opening the gate and walking cautiously up the brick path, keeping several feet of distance between them. "The divorce documents are with Marcus Vance. You’ve had them for three months. All you have to do is sign them and let me live my life."
"I can't sign them, Claire," Vincent whispered, stepping off the porch to meet her at the base of the stairs, keeping his hands visible and lowered. "I haven't slept a full night since the morning you walked out. Every time I close my eyes, I see you sorting my medication at the counter. I see you handing me water. I see how I took every single piece of your soul and treated it like a service I was entitled to."
"You made your choice, Vincent," Claire said coldly, unlocking her front door with an unsteady key. "You told me Sophia needed you. You told me you wanted someone who depended on you. You wanted excitement and adoration. I hope she’s giving it to you."
"I fired her three months ago," Vincent said.
Claire paused, the key turning in the lock. She glanced back at him over her shoulder.
"The day you left," Vincent continued, tears welling openly in his eyes, unashamed of his vulnerability. "The second I realized you were carrying our baby, I looked at Sophia and I felt sick. I realized that everything she offered was shallow, fake, and bought with my money. But what you gave me... you gave me eight years of unconditional devotion, and I was too arrogant, too stupid, to realize that you were the only reason my life had any meaning at all."
Claire stared at him, her heart aching, but she shook her head firmly.
May you like
"An apology doesn't erase eight years of being taken for granted, Vincent. And it doesn't erase the fact that you threw me away the moment another woman batted her eyes at you. Now please leave. If you cause me stress, you are endangering your child."
Vincent immediately stepped back into the rain, raising his hands in surrender. "I’m going. I’m going, Claire. But I’m not leaving this town. I will stay at the inn down the road. I won't come near your house. But I am not abandoning you again."
