Page 154 of Love Unscripted
But when Aaron asked who would give her away, she realized the answer was obvious.
Her father.
Which meant she would have to speak to him.
She had been turning the thought over in her mind for two days when the unexpected happened.
Her father called.
“Camille,” he said in his familiar warm baritone, “your mother and I would like to come see you. There’s something important we want to discuss.”
She blinked in surprise.
That was unusual.
Her mother rarely announced her visits. Rita simply appeared—sweeping into whatever room Camille was in—and immediately began talking about some project that would be perfect for her.
The next surprise came when they arrived in the same car.
Through the front window, Camille watched her father’s flashy metallic black Ferrari Roma glide into the driveway like a sleek animal settling into place.
Her father stepped out first.
He walked around the car and opened the passenger door with theatrical gallantry.
Her mother emerged wearing a close-fitting leopard print dress, oversized sunglasses, and heels that clicked confidently against the stone walkway.
Camille folded her arms.
Well, she thought. This should be interesting.
Her father walked into the house smelling of expensive cologne and confidence.
When they were seated in the living room, he cleared his throat.
“Camille,” he said, “your mom and I are getting back together.”
Camille blinked.
They had never divorced, so it wasn’t as though he was announcing an engagement.
And yet, somehow, the declaration still felt monumental.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t completely surprising either. Her father had never stopped asking about her mother. And Rita—nomatter how annoyed she sounded—always spoke of him with a strange kind of wistfulness.
I’m not divorcing him,she had said once.I don’t believe in divorce. He can divorce me if he wants, but I won’t do it.
“This is unexpected,” Camille said, studying them both. “What prompted this?”
“We’ve been seeing each other,” Rita replied. “Since that day I told you we were having lunch. We’ve been… dating again.”
Camille lifted a brow. “Dating. Okay. How long?”
They glanced at each other like co-conspirators.
“Months, really.”
“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Camille asked Rita. Now that she thought about it, her motherhadseemed unusually happy. She had assumed it was someone new. It had never crossed her mind that it was her father.
