Chapter 148 Giving Up on Camilla, No Way!
Camilla never thought Juniper's cousin, Sebastian, who she barely kept in touch with and wasn't close to growing up, would be so worried about her.
She thought, 'Well, I guess it makes sense. Sebastian might seem aloof and distant, but he's just too busy to show he cares. Deep down, he's softer than anyone else.'
"If something like today happens again, you can hit me up anytime." Sebastian paused and glanced at Camilla, almost like he was doing it on purpose. "Alcohol messes with your nervous system. Best case, you get nauseous and puke. Worst case, you could pass out or go into shock. So, maybe drink less, yeah?"
Camilla blushed, her ears turning pink, knowing he was talking about her.
Clearing her throat, she defended herself. "Sure, alcohol has its downsides, but it helps people forget their troubles for a bit. Sometimes zoning out and letting off steam is a way to deal with emotions, yeah?"
Sebastian didn't expect her to clap back and imitate his tone. He couldn't help but laugh. "There are plenty of ways to vent. Do you really need alcohol?"
"Depends. What if some people like it?"
Sebastian stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her. "Do you like it?"
Camilla was caught off guard. Meeting Sebastian's intense gaze, she instinctively looked away and shook her head. "I don't like it."
Even when Leopold hurt her deeply, she never drowned her sorrows in alcohol. She knew running away wasn't a solution.
And she was terrified of losing control and not being able to manage herself.
Sebastian's lips curled up. "No wonder Cynthia worries Juniper will lead you astray. If you ever feel like drinking, you can call me."
"Call you to help clean up the mess?" Camilla laughed.
Sebastian nodded, then shook his head. "Besides that, I might even join you for a drink."
Camilla blinked. "You? Drink with me?"
She couldn't picture Sebastian drinking.
"What? You don't believe me?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
"I don't believe it." Camilla shook her head.
"You can test it out if you get the chance."
"Okay."
Sebastian's gaze was so gentle, it felt like you could fall into it without realizing.
A Mercedes sped past, its horn breaking the moment.
Camilla snapped back to reality and looked up at the sky. "Looks like it's gonna rain. Let's head home."
Without waiting for Sebastian's response, she turned and walked away.
Sebastian stood there, watching her go, a smile playing on his lips.
Inside the Mercedes, Leopold watched the distant figures of a man and a woman through the rearview mirror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white.
Camilla seemed different. She smiled more now, but those smiles were for another man.
Turns out, while he was stuck in the past, Camilla had moved on and found new people in her life.
Neither Sebastian nor Marcus is inferior to him!
Even though Leopold didn't want to admit it, Camilla was doing way better after leaving him than he ever imagined.
But the better she was, the harder it was for Leopold to accept.
Why?
He thought, 'Why could Camilla cut ties so easily and move on after our breakup, while I'm stuck in the past, unable to let go?'
At that moment, Leopold felt a sudden surge of hatred towards her.
He hated her coldness, hated that she didn't give him another chance like before.
In the wee hours, it started pouring rain.
Leopold drove back to the villa, parked the car, but didn't want to get out.
He stared at the house right in front of him, a place that wasn't a home without Camilla.
Leopold pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
In the enclosed space, the smoke lingered, unable to escape.
The red glow burned between Leopold's fingers, the rising white smoke soon blurring his features.
Leopold was swallowed by the darkness, almost merging with the night.
The time it took to smoke a cigarette felt both long and short.
As the cigarette burned out, Leopold's previously dazed eyes suddenly became clear.
Giving up on Camilla? No way!
Having had her once and losing her now didn't mean he couldn't have her again.
As long as he could win Camilla back, everything could go back to the way it was.
Leopold opened the car door, tossed the cigarette butt, and walked towards the villa.
Amara stood at the door, smiling brightly.
Leopold checked his watch; it was one in the morning.
"Leopold, I..." Amara started to speak, but before she could finish, Leopold walked past her straight into the house.
It was as if Amara, standing there, was no different from air.
Amara's smile froze.
But she quickly recovered and smiled again. "Leopold, I cooked a few dishes tonight. I called you, but you didn't answer, and I couldn't send you messages because you blocked me."
Leopold paused, turned to look at her, "What, are you complaining?"
"No, no, I just wanted to ask if you could unblock me? I get very worried when I can't reach you," Amara said cautiously.
Leopold didn't say anything, clearly too lazy to even refuse.
Amara, pretending not to notice, walked to the dining table and started talking to herself, "I didn't know when you'd be back, so I could only wait. These dishes have been reheated four or five times, they must be inedible now."
Leopold glanced at the table and instantly laughed.
"What's so funny, Leopold?"
"Impressive, I must say."
He was allergic to shrimp and didn't like celery.
Amara watched Leopold's back as he went upstairs, resisting the urge to flip the table, and took a deep breath. "Mira!"
No response.
Then she shouted, "Lisa!"
"Amara, what's wrong?" Lisa didn't dare to play dumb like Mira; after all, she didn't know Leopold when he was a kid.
Amara, expressionless, ordered, "Clean up the table."
"What about the food?"
"Throw it away."
"Oh, okay."
In the master bedroom, Leopold lay on the bed, thinking about Amara's dishes, and couldn't help but think of Camilla again.
From a cooking novice to a culinary expert, no one did it better than Camilla.
No matter how late he came home, the food on the table was always warm.
Anything he was allergic to never appeared on the table.
There was always a balance of meat and vegetables, with nutritional considerations, all of which she figured out bit by bit from cookbooks and nutrition guides.
The better he used to eat, the greater the contrast now.
The next day, Leopold got up for work.
Amara, as if she didn't understand, prepared breakfast for him again.
Leopold walked past without a glance at the table.
Amara didn't get angry; instead, she smiled and brought over a tie.
"What are you doing?" Leopold grabbed her wrist.
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