Chapter Four: Their First Meeting

The moment Dominic Hayes stepped onto the boardwalk, a wave of nostalgia hit him like the salt-tinged breeze rolling off the ocean. Haven Cove hadn't changed much in ten years. The same colorful storefronts lined the main street, the same cozy glow poured from the windows of small businesses, and the same familiar scent of sea air and fresh-baked bread drifted through the town.

He hadn't meant to return. Not like this. Not after everything.

Yet here he was.

His steps slowed as he neared The Blue Harbor Café. He'd spent hours sitting inside this very café once, stealing moments with Camille, tracing the delicate lines of her face with his eyes when she wasn't looking. It had been their place—a quiet retreat from the rest of the world.

Now, it was hers alone.

Through the window, he saw her moving behind the counter, her brown hair tucked into a loose bun, a pencil tucked behind one ear. She was laughing at something—an easy, unguarded laugh that stirred something deep in his chest.

She looked exactly the same. And yet, she wasn't.

She had built a life without him.

Dominic pushed open the door, and the bell chimed overhead.

Camille glanced up, smiling automatically.

Then she saw him.

The color drained from her face. Her breath hitched.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Dominic's pulse pounded. Ten years. Ten years without her voice, her touch, her presence. And now, she was right in front of him, so close he could almost reach out and—

No. He had no right.

Camille swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the counter as if steadying herself. "You."

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it sliced through him like a blade.

"Camille," he murmured.

The way he said her name—low, reverent, almost like a prayer—made something inside her crack.

Then, just as quickly, her expression hardened.

"What are you doing here?"

Dominic forced himself to breathe. "I needed to see you."

Her eyes flashed. "After ten years?" She let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. "You don't get to need anything from me, Dominic."

A few customers glanced their way, sensing the tension thickening in the air. Isabel, who had been wiping down a nearby table, stiffened.

"I know I have no right to ask for your time," Dominic said, keeping his voice level, controlled. "But I need to talk to you. Privately."

Camille scoffed. "Unbelievable."

Dominic held her gaze. "Please."

She exhaled sharply, glancing around as if deciding whether to make a scene. Then, without a word, she wiped her hands on her apron, untied it, and gestured toward the back door.

"Five minutes," she bit out. "That's all you get."

Dominic nodded, following her through the café's back entrance, his heart hammering with every step.

As the door shut behind them, the sounds of the café faded, leaving only the distant crash of waves against the shore.

Camille turned to face him, arms crossed. "Say whatever you came to say and leave."

Dominic hesitated. He had imagined this moment a hundred times, rehearsed what he would say, how he would apologize, how he would explain.

But now, standing before her, the words tangled in his throat.

"I never meant to stay away," he finally said.

Camille let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "And yet, you did."

His jaw tightened. "I was—"

"Don't." She held up a hand. "I don't care why you left, Dominic. I stopped caring a long time ago."

That was a lie. He could hear it in the tremble of her voice.

He took a step closer. "Camille—"

"I have nothing to say to you," she cut in. "So do us both a favor and go back to wherever you came from."

Dominic's fingers curled into fists. He had expected anger. He had expected bitterness. But he hadn't expected the ache that came with it.

"I'm not leaving." His voice was quiet but firm. "Not until we talk."

Camille's breath shuddered. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—pain, uncertainty, fear.

Then, just as quickly, she masked it.

"You're wasting your time."

And with that, she turned, stepping back inside the café, leaving him standing there, heart pounding, as the door swung shut between them.