My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge
Chapter 260: Her Strength

Chapter 260: Her Strength

The celebration carried on beneath the fairy lights that twinkled above the reception area like tiny stars strung across the night. Laughter echoed, glasses clinked, and music pulsed softly under the conversations.

Cammy, draped in elegance and shadows, moved like a ghost among the living—there in body, but her soul had slipped somewhere far from the warmth of the party.

She smiled when needed, nodded politely, but there was a hollow grace in her gestures. Her eyes never really settled, constantly scanning the crowd, always returning to Ric.

She stayed close to him. Closer than usual. It wasn’t possessiveness—it was survival. Around him, she could breathe.

Ric, perceptive as always, noticed the way her grip tightened every time someone tried to pull her into a conversation. The way her eyes dimmed just a little more with each congratulation. He’d pull her gently away each time, and they’d return to the dance floor, letting the music serve as their shield.

"You alright?" he asked quietly, his hand warm against the small of her back as they swayed to a slow melody.

Cammy gave a tired smile. "Yeah... just exhausted."

Ric nodded and leaned in. "I’ll tell the nanny to sleep in the employee housing tonight," he said. "That way, you and Dylan can have the night to yourselves. Talk. Be together. No one is listening."

Cammy blinked, surprised. "Wait—are you sure about that? It’s our first night as husband and wife..."

Ric laughed softly and poked her forehead with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Don’t tell me you’re already having sexy thoughts about me, Mrs. Rossi?"

Her mouth fell open, and she slapped his arm lightly. "Oh my God, Ric! That’s not what I meant! I just thought—we agreed to sleep in the same room, right? That’s all I meant."

Ric couldn’t help but laugh, this time more tenderly. "I know, I know. I’m just messing with you."

He sobered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Tonight is for you and your son. It’s his last night before everything changes. You should have that time with him. Tomorrow, I’ll be here. The next day, I’ll be here too. Every day after that... I’ll still be here. We’ve got time, Cammy. You don’t have to give up anything else tonight."

Her eyes shimmered, not just with gratitude but with the painful recognition of what was slipping through her fingers. And yet, somehow, Ric’s words grounded her.

She took a deep breath, leaned her forehead against his chest, and whispered, "Thank you... for giving me space, even when I don’t know how to ask for it."

Ric held her close, swaying gently as the music played on, his hand over her heart—steady, anchoring, patient. And though the world around them buzzed with joy, it was in that small, quiet moment that Cammy felt the first hint of healing begin to take root.

"I am your friend before all of these things happened. And I’ll be your friend as well tomorrow. You can count on that, Cammy," Ric said before pressing a gentle kiss on her head.

As the evening wore on, the laughter and music continued to fill the air, but Cammy felt the weight of the coming morning settle heavier on her chest with each passing minute.

The glow of the fairy lights, the warmth of the people celebrating around her, the soft breeze from the sea—it all began to feel distant, like she was moving in slow motion while the rest of the world spun on.

She bent slightly and whispered something in Dylan’s ear. The little boy, still full of energy despite the hour, simply nodded and took her hand, his small fingers curling tightly around hers.

Cammy gently led him through the tables, stopping only briefly to thank people with a soft smile and a quiet goodbye.

Ellie saw her and moved to speak, but Ric gently held her back, shaking his head once. Ellie understood. Everyone did. No one asked why the bride was leaving her own party early, why she was quietly retreating when the music had yet to slow, and the dancing was still in full swing. They all knew.

Tomorrow is the day Cammy had been dreading since the court agreement was finalized. Dylan’s cast would be removed, and with it, the final thread tying him to her in the safety of their familiar rhythm. Duncan would arrive. And she’d have to let go—at least for now.

Cammy walked toward the path that led to Ric’s villa, Dylan’s small figure beside her, their shadows long beneath the moonlight.

Her gown trailed behind her, catching grains of sand as they passed, her veil already removed, her hair starting to come loose from its pins. She didn’t care. Tonight, none of that mattered.

When they reached the villa, Dylan climbed into her lap the moment she sat down on the edge of the bed. He rested his head on her chest, quiet and still.

"You okay, Mommy?" he asked, his voice muffled by her dress.

Cammy pressed her lips to his hair and closed her eyes, the tears already slipping down her cheeks.

"I will be," she whispered. "As long as you’re okay... I’ll be okay."

Dylan looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, his voice soft but filled with the kind of honesty that only children possess.

"I’m okay, Mommy. I miss Daddy too. But... you said you’d come back and pick me up, right?"

Cammy’s heart twisted painfully at his words. Her lips trembled as she fought back the wave of emotion surging through her.

She gently cupped his face, brushing a stray curl from his forehead, and forced herself to smile through the tears burning at the corners of her eyes.

"Yes," she said, her voice hushed but steady, filled with both love and heartbreak. "It’s a promise, sweetheart. When the time is right, Mommy will come back for you. But until then, I need you to take care of your Daddy, okay? Be strong for him. He needs you, just like I do."

Dylan nodded slowly, his little fingers curling around hers with surprising strength. "Okay, Mommy. I’ll take care of him. I’ll be good. And I’ll study really hard every day so I won’t miss you too much. Our house matron in boarding school taught us that trick," he added with a small, proud grin.

Cammy let out a shaky laugh, pressing her forehead against his. "That’s my brave boy," she whispered. "Just like before you broke your leg—you’ll be in school during the week, and I’ll come visit you on weekends and stop by your school sometimes. You won’t feel like I’m far away at all."

Dylan tilted his head thoughtfully, considering her words. "Hmm... yeah, I guess that’s okay. That way, I get to be with both you and Daddy. It’s kind of like having double the love, right?"

That broke her. Tears silently spilled down Cammy’s cheeks as she pulled Dylan into a tight embrace, burying her face in his shoulder. His small arms wrapped around her as best as they could, patting her back the way he’d seen her do for him when he cried.

In that moment, Cammy sent a desperate prayer upward, ’Thank you, God... for giving me this child. For giving me a reason to keep standing when everything inside me is breaking.’

’Stay this way, baby... stay innocent, kind, and whole,’ she thought as she clutched him close. ’You are the reason I breathe. You are the strength I never thought I had.’

And though the night outside was silent, inside the room, a mother held on tightly to the last thread of comfort she had left—her son, her light, her anchor in the storm.

When Dylan had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep, his small chest rising and falling steadily beside Cammy. She stayed there a little longer, watching him, brushing her fingers through his hair.

The tenderness of the moment clung to her like a veil. But the ache in her throat reminded her she hadn’t drunk anything in hours.

Carefully, she slipped out of bed, making sure not to disturb Dylan. Her feet padded across the wooden floor, quiet as a whisper, and she walked to the kitchen, hoping a glass of cold water would calm her nerves and soothe the storm still spinning in her chest.

As she opened the fridge, the soft creak of the back door startled her. She turned around to see Ric stepping in, his tie undone and the top two buttons of his shirt open. The night air clung to his skin, and a trace of worry flickered in his eyes when he saw her.

"Couldn’t sleep?" he asked gently.

Cammy just shook her head, her throat tightening too much to speak.

Ric stepped closer. "How are you holding up?"

That simple question—so softly asked, so deeply sincere—cracked the last fragile piece of control she had left. A faint sob escaped her lips, and tears welled in her eyes again, spilling down her cheeks in quiet defeat.

Ric didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her, his embrace warm, solid, grounding.

Cammy melted into him without a word, clutching the front of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Without thinking, Ric pressed a tender kiss to her cheek—a soft, reflexive gesture of comfort. But as soon as his lips met her skin, both of them froze.

Cammy slowly pulled back, their eyes locking. Ric’s hand was still on her back, hers gripping his shirt. They stared at each other, breaths shallow, the air between them suddenly charged, thick with something unspoken... something that had always lingered just beneath the surface.

Then, slowly, as if drawn by a force neither could resist, they leaned in.

Their lips met—tentative at first, unsure, like the touch of a question waiting to be answered.

But then it deepened.

The world outside ceased to exist. There were no exes, no custody battles, no pain or promises or regrets. There was only them—Cammy and Ric—and a kiss that seemed to fill the hollow spaces inside them both, if only for that fleeting, stolen moment.