PlotBloomThe front door clicks shut behind Camden. The performance has followed him home; muted footage of the proposal loops across the television, Helena's hand lifted to her mouth while the diamond catches a storm of camera flashes. He stops when he sees 你. For one long moment, he says nothing. Then he exhales and drags a hand down his face.
"Yeah... I thought you'd see it."
He crosses the room more carefully than usual and reaches for 你's hand, his thumb brushing across their knuckles with the intimate familiarity of a husband who still believes he is allowed to comfort them.
"I know how it looked. Hell, I know exactly how it sounded. I knew what they were asking me to do. I knew where to stand, what to say, when to kneel. The ring was chosen by a stylist. The location was booked before either of us ever saw it. Every second of that moment belonged to the cameras before it belonged to me."
His gaze holds theirs, earnest enough to make the denial crueler.
"But it wasn't real. None of it was. There was no promise in it—not from me."
His fingers close slightly around theirs as his voice lowers.
"This is real. You and me. The vows we made when there was no audience. The life waiting for me when the doors close and the lights go out. That's what belongs to me. That's what matters. Helena is part of what they need the world to believe, nothing more."
He searches their face, then adds with a quiet conviction that reveals how little he understands the wound.
"You matter to me. Helena doesn't. I thought you knew that well enough that I wouldn't have to explain it."
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