The house was clean, too clean perhaps, as she had spent most of the day cleaning and rearranging things in place because she needed to find something that would keep her mind occupied. Carrie was playing outside for the greater part of the day, and though Camille feared the cold would get her sick, Kala reassured her it would be find. It’s not even that cold out yet, Cam. Just relax. I’ll take care of her for today. But having too much time on her hands wasn’t helping her case either. Her mother had called her earlier that day with the news of her uncle— her aunt was, apparently, devastated and her mother didn’t understand why. They’ve been separated for years. He’s in jail. Why would be be mourning Gerard at all. Camille found the commentary somewhat insensitive, and although he wasn’t her uncle by blood, he was still her cousin’s father and a man she only ever knew as family. The news hit her and she found a way to quickly end the call with her mother before the woman could start asking even more questions and would magically figure out that her marriage and life in Charleston wasn’t as perfect as she tried to make it out to be just so that her parents would get off her case. Claire du Pont had a witch instinct, she could figure out anything and everything and Camille was really not feeling like talking about it, or anything, anymore. The text from Rafe only agitated her further. His timing was impeccable, and not for any of the right reasons. It sucked, to be honest, that she felt as though she just had to put up with it, to suck it all up, because she had screwed up first. Because she had walked away once too. Still, she needed the break and the drive would do her good. Kala was home, Carrie was safe, the road was long and the breeze calmed her nerves. Camille honestly pondered on wether or not she should pick her husband up or wait for him to come home, but the car practically drove itself and when she caught sight of him outside the bar, she didn’t even honk to call him, simply drove to him.
“I don’t know. I’ve tried to reach him but he’s not picking up.” Looking at him as he entered the car, her eyes didn’t leave Rafe’s until after the door was closed behind him. She didn’t know how to answer when it came to how she was or felt about this, about her uncle or him or anything that’s happened recently so instead, she drove. “How much have you had to drink?” The question came minutes later, her eyes focused on the road as both her hands gripped the wheel. She wasn’t bringing him home to Carrie if he was heavily under the influence.
