"CAMILA!"
Lawson's voice cracked. His face was so twisted that Camila would have mistaken it for a mask of pure anguish. But she knew he couldn't deny that he enjoyed himself that night, cheating on her.
He wanted to pretend the words tasted like ash in his mouth. He wanted to take back everything to erase the memory of his pleasure, but it was too late.
It's f*****g too late.
There's no forgiveness, no way in hell. Because each time she stared at the mirror seeing this reconstructive face, the next face she sees is Lawson. His calm reaction to Diane's dramatic confession of her pregnancy, the way his lips moved like a worm wriggling on a fishhook as he spewed that rubbish—it all screamed of his complicity and her utter worthlessness in his eyes.
Silence fell. Even Lawson was speechl
