Chapter 142 Chapter 142

Chapter 142 Chapter 142
Maxwell

After the crazy dinner with my parents, the moment we stepped into our bedroom and the door closed behind us, Camilla turned to face me. The frustration she had been holding back all evening was written all over her face.

“I thought we agreed that the kids would stay with your parents,” Camilla said. “Why are they back here with us?”

I let out a slow breath before answering. I had expected this conversation the second I decided to bring them home.

“Because I want them here with me,” I said calmly. “There is no way that crazy woman is coming here to take them. Babe, you have to understand, the girls are staying here.”

There was no chance I was leaving my daughters with my parents anymore. They were my responsibility now that their mother was gone, and I intended to raise them myself. No matter how difficult it became, I wasn't going to push them onto someone else.

Her expression hardened. “Then I'm moving out!” she shouted. “You can't suddenly dump five children on me. I'm pregnant, Maxwell. That's too much for me. Either they leave, or I do. You have to choose.”

I stared at her for a moment before walking over. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, hoping she would calm down.

“You know I can't choose between you and my children,” I said softly. “I love them just as much as I love you. Please try to understand. I promise they won't become a burden to you. I will make sure of that.”

I gently kissed her forehead, she slowly lifted her head and looked into my eyes. For a brief second, the anger on her face softened. She leaned in, bringing her lips closer to mine.

Our faces were only inches apart, then, at the last second, I pulled away. I cleared my throat and took a step back, trying to ignore the awkward silence that followed.

“I need a drink,” I said. “After everything that happened today with that crazy woman and her friend, I need something to calm my nerves.”

"Why do you always do this?" Camilla asked as she stepped in front of me, stopping me from walking away. "Every time I'm about to kiss you, you suddenly come up with an excuse." She said.

"That's not true," I replied, even though deep down, I knew she was right.

"It is true," she said, her voice growing quieter. "That's always when you suddenly decide you need a drink. Every single time we fuck or make out, you have either been drunk or halfway there. Do I disgust you that much?"

The hurt in her voice hit me harder than I expected. Guilt settled heavily in my chest. I had honestly believed she hadn't noticed. I thought I had been careful enough to hide it.

The truth was something I didn't even know how to explain. Every time I tried to be intimate with her, something inside me resisted. It wasn't because she wasn't beautiful or because she had done anything wrong. I simply couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Even something as simple as kissing her never felt natural.

Instead of excitement, I felt hesitation. Instead of desire, it felt like an obligation—a responsibility I kept forcing myself to fulfill. Whenever that uncomfortable feeling became too strong, I reached for alcohol. It was the only thing that quieted my thoughts long enough for me to pretend everything was normal.

"Of course you don't disgust me," I said, forcing confidence into my voice. "I love spending time with you, and I always look forward to us being together."

The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, I hated lying to her, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth. She had stood by me when I needed her most, and she was carrying my baby. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her with feelings I couldn't even make sense of myself.

Her expression softened almost instantly. The sadness disappeared from her eyes, replaced by relief. A bright smile spread across her face as she looked at me. "Do you really mean that?" she asked.

"Of course, babe. I do," I said.

The words had barely left my mouth before she closed the distance between us and pressed her lips against mine.

At first, it was only a gentle kiss. She lingered for a moment, then slowly deepened it. As soon as I felt her trying to make it more intimate, my body reacted before my mind could. I pulled away almost immediately and took a step back.

A painful silence settled between us. She stared at me, hurt flashing across her face. "See?" she said quietly. "This is exactly what I was talking about. You don't really want me. You are just using me."

I opened my mouth, searching for something that would make the situation better, any excuse. Before I could think of one, my phone vibrated in my pocket. The notification was like an unexpected escape.

I quickly pulled it out and unlocked the screen, but before I could even read the message properly, Camilla reached over and snatched the phone from my hand. "Who's texting you?" she asked as she scrolled through my messages.

It was only a text from Rafe, he was asking if I would be coming to the motorcycle tournament on Friday.

A small smile almost crept onto my face. It had been two years since I last raced. I missed the adrenaline, the freedom, and the feeling of being on the track. For the first time in a long while, I finally felt ready to get back to it.

Camilla looked up from the screen, her expression immediately changing.

"I thought we agreed you were done with racing," she said. "You promised you wouldn't do this anymore."

She tightened her grip on my phone. "How did you even get Rafe's number again? I will text him right now and tell him you're not coming."

I frowned and immediately took the phone back from her hand. "I never promised you any such thing," I said firmly. "And I am going to that tournament."

Without waiting for another argument, I turned around and walked out of the room.