HENRY
I groped the air until I found my bed and lay down. I asked myself what I was going to do. I was like an overgrown baby, dependent on her — I didn't even know where my underwear was to get dressed. And food? What would I do about eating without her?
Some time later, I heard the door open and heard Camille.
"Henry! Why did you get out by yourself? I was going to come back and help you. Sit down, please — you're getting the bed wet."
She asked, and I obeyed, without mentioning that I'd gotten out of the tub because she'd taken so long the water had gone cold. Camille moved back and forth, seeming a little flustered. She was different from usual — I could feel it.
A while later she came with a towel and began drying my hair.
"Henry, I'm sorry. I know I took too long to come back."
"Don't worry about it. Sometimes I need to take some of that responsibility off your shoulders."
"It's fine. Taking care of you isn't that much of a sacrifice for me, it's just... I told you, I've been really tired."
Strangely, those words sounded like she wasn't talking about physical exhaustion.
I sat there for a long time, not knowing what to do, but as soon as she arrived, it wasn't long before I was dry, dressed, and put together. It was bizarre how she had total control over my life.
The hours passed, and deep into the night I still hadn't fallen asleep. I could hear the muffled sounds of Camille crying. It made me feel guilty, and at the same time, I didn't know why. Why do I feel guilty? I didn't say anything out of line — I only told her things she already knew. Things I'd already said before in other conversations.
"Why is Camille acting so different?"
Once again I acted on impulse. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her from behind. She didn't react — she just went quieter, and her body went tense.
What are you doing, Henry? I asked myself, feeling strange about it.
I let out a breath, and trying to play off the fact that I'd just shown something resembling emotion, I pulled her closer. I kissed her neck, breathing in her scent. Camille was meticulous about herself — she smelled of moisturizer and perfume, a subtle fragrance that never bothered me. In fact, the scent of her body drove me wild.
In a second I was ready. Desire burned through me, consuming me completely.
I slid my hand under her shirt, finding her breasts and squeezing with intent. They filled my hands — firm and full. I kneaded them while pulling her against me, making her feel how hard she'd made me.
I was like a volcano on the verge of eruption, desperate to explode inside her. But Camille... Camille was like a frozen iceberg.
Gradually, her coldness cooled me down as I realized she wasn't responding to anything I was doing.
I gave up, frustrated. Just seconds ago I'd been wild with desire, but without reciprocation, it was pointless.
"What's going on, Camille? Are you upset with me?"
Silence was all I got back, until some time later she answered:
"I'm sorry, Henry... it's just, my head really hurts."
"Oh, give me a break! That excuse is ancient. Tell me the truth — what's going on? Are you sick of me?"
Her silence and lack of response was worse than her flimsy excuses. Her silence made me feel her slipping further and further away.
"It's not that, Henry. I'm just... I'm just tired." Her voice faded gradually, as if she really were drifting away.
"You know what? I'm relieved you don't want any more intimacy. I'm relieved I don't have to pretend I enjoy being with you anymore."
There was no response from Camille. Which made me even more uneasy. Of course I'd lied — I just didn't want to be on the losing end, didn't want to feel rejected.
Morning came, and in silence, Camille helped me get up. Just like every morning, she made me breakfast.
Afterward, she took care of my hair, cutting it. Then she helped me sit at my desk and left for work.
While she was gone, I tried to study, listening to the audiobooks Camille had made a point of recording for me. But I couldn't stop asking myself why she'd been rejecting me.
And listening to those recordings only made it worse, since everything I had to listen to was recorded in her voice.
Exhausted, I decided to get out of my room for a while. I walked instinctively to the bedroom door and made my way down the hall, pressing against the walls. With my heightened hearing, I followed the sound of my stepmother arguing with my half-brother.
"Idiot! Idiot! You're an idiot! How could you siphon off that much money all at once? If anyone finds out, you'll be kicked out of the company! You know perfectly well it belongs to that cripple, and you're only running it because I convinced the board!"
"Screw it if they find out, Mom! The ship is sinking! This piece-of-crap company is going under anyway, and by the time they figure it out, you and I will be long gone! I already cleaned out the vault and the money's in a secure account in Switzerland."
"Are you sure we're going to get away with this without anyone finding out?"
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