Chapter 1 - The Man in the Doorway
“I’m choosing you, Camille. I swear to God, I am.”
Andre Williams stood beside the dining room table with both hands pressed against its polished surface. His voice was steady, almost rehearsed.
Across from him, his wife stood with her arms folded tightly across her chest.
Seven years of marriage had taught Camille the difference between her husband's sincere voice and the one he used when he desperately wanted someone to believe him.
Tonight, she wasn't sure which one she was hearing.
Her mother, Lorraine, sat near the window, her untouched dinner growing cold.
Andre's younger sister, Renee, occupied the chair closest to the kitchen. She had spent the evening trying to convince everyone that this family dinner could mark a new beginning.
“I know I hurt you,” Andre continued. “I know I made mistakes. But I'm standing here in front of everybody because I want my marriage. I want my wife. From this day forward, I'm doing everything differently.”
Camille studied his face.
Two months earlier, she had discovered messages on his phone that no married woman should have to read.
Andre had admitted there was someone else.
He claimed the relationship had been brief, a terrible mistake that had already ended.
He refused to identify the person.
At first, Camille had demanded answers. Then came the sleepless nights, the arguments, and the unbearable exhaustion of wondering whether the man beside her was still the man she had married.
She had agreed to attend tonight's dinner for one reason.
Andre had promised complete honesty.
“You're choosing me?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“And there won't be any more surprises?”
“None.”
Camille gave a short, humorless laugh.
“You better keep your word, Andre. Because I'm tired. I'm tired of finding out pieces of my own marriage from everybody except my husband.”
Lorraine lowered her eyes.
Renee whispered, “Camille, he's trying.”
Camille turned toward her.
“I know he's trying, Renee. I've heard him trying for eight weeks.”
Andre stepped around the table.
“Baby, please.”
“Don't call me that right now.”
He stopped.
Camille reached for her purse.
“I need some air.”
She walked toward the dining room doorway.
Then she stopped so suddenly that Renee nearly rose from her chair.
A tall Black man wearing a dark green coat stood in the entrance.
He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with close-cropped hair and an expression that was strangely calm for someone interrupting a family gathering.
He raised one hand.
“I'm sorry, but you can't end this conversation yet.”
Camille stared.
“Excuse me?”
The stranger glanced past her.
“Andre. You forgot somebody.”
Every sound in the room seemed to disappear.
Andre's face drained of color.
“Julian?”
The stranger nodded.
“So you do remember my name.”
Camille looked between them.
“Who is this?”
Andre opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Julian stepped only far enough into the room to make himself heard.
“I gave you every opportunity to tell her.”
“Julian,” Andre whispered. “Not here.”
“Then where? Because you kept telling me tomorrow, next week, after the holidays. And now you're standing here telling everyone there are no more secrets.”
Camille's fingers tightened around her purse.
“What is he talking about?”
Julian finally looked at her.
His expression softened.
“I'm sorry you have to hear it like this.”
“Hear what?”
He turned toward Andre again.
“Tell her what you told me.”
Andre shook his head.
“Please.”
Julian's voice became painfully quiet.
“You told me you loved me, too.”
Lorraine clapped a hand over her mouth.
Renee pushed back from the table.
Andre stood frozen, his eyes wide with unmistakable terror.
Camille stared at Julian.
Then at her husband.
“What?!”
For a moment she couldn't form another word.
Andre reached toward her, but she stepped backward.
“No. Don't touch me.”
“Camille, I can explain.”
“You stood right there and told me there were no more secrets.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
His silence answered for him.
Julian lowered his gaze.
Camille could hear Lorraine calling her name, but the words seemed to come from another room.
She had walked into this dinner believing she knew the worst thing her husband had done.
Now she understood something even more frightening.
She hadn't known the truth at all.
She looked at Julian.
“How long?”
Andre immediately said, “Camille, let's talk privately.”
She didn't even look at him.
“I wasn't asking you.”
Julian took a slow breath.
“Longer than he told you.”
Camille felt the floor beneath her certainty give way.
She picked up her keys.
May you like
“Then somebody is finally going to tell me everything.”
And for the first time that evening, Andre looked as though he understood he could no longer control the conversation.
