Homesick | Charles Leclerc

40

Tears glistened in his eyes as he finally answered, his voice raw with sincerity. "Yes, Alexandra. With every atom in my body, I loved Camille Heroux."

The truth hung in the air, a long-held secret finally revealed. Alexandra's eyes searched his face, absorbing the impact of his admission. She took a slow sip of her coffee, the warmth of the liquid mirroring the emotions churning within her.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The room seemed to cocoon them in a space of shared history and complicated emotions. It was Christian who finally broke the silence once more, his voice soft and filled with a mixture of nostalgia and regret.

"You know," he began, his gaze distant, "you look so much like your mother did when we first met. Those same fierce eyes and determination."

Alexandra's lips quirked in a faint, bitter smile, but she remained silent, allowing his words to settle in the space between them.

Christian took a deep breath, his expression pained yet earnest. "Camille loved you and James more than anything in the world. You were her world."

Alexandra's scoff was abrupt, her voice tinged with bitterness. "If that were true, she would've protected us from my father."

Christian's gaze met hers, and for the first time, his expression held a raw honesty. "Alexandra," Christian's voice was gentle, "sometimes, people make choices that they believe are the best, even if they hurt the ones they love. Your mother faced her own battles and struggles. But, her weaknesses don't mean she loved you any less."

Tension filled the air, their words a reflection of the tangled emotions that had bound their lives together. In this confined space, their shared history, grievances, and even the fragments of love they both felt were laid bare. 

Alexandra's sad smile lingered for a moment, a fragile bridge between their shared history. Her voice carried a mix of vulnerability and curiosity as she continued, her gaze unwavering. "Could you tell me about Camille?"

Christian's expression shifted, a mix of confusion and contemplation crossing his features. He seemed to be grappling with the idea of opening up about a chapter of his life that had remained closed for so long. Finally, he nodded, his eyes meeting hers as if silently acknowledging her need.

Alexandra took a deep breath before explaining her perspective. "I never got to see my mother when she was happy, when she was in love. All I know are the struggles and the pain. I want to know who she was before all of that."

Christian's gaze held hers for a moment longer before he stood up, a sense of purpose guiding his movements. He walked over to his desk, his steps purposeful yet heavy with the weight of his memories. After a moment, he retrieved a small black-bound book and returned to his seat on the sofa, the book resting in his hands.

Sitting back down, Christian's gaze remained fixed on the book as if seeking answers within its pages. He cleared his throat before he began to speak, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and raw emotion. "I met Camille at one of Jacob's NASCAR races. James was just three months old at the time."

He recounted the scene for Alexandra, describing a tired and stressed Camille, struggling to soothe a crying James. Christian had approached her, worried about the baby's well-being, unaware of who she was. Camille had introduced herself as Charlotte, a name she used to maintain her anonymity.

As Christian spoke, his voice took on a wistful quality, painting a vivid picture of that encounter. "We spent about an hour or so together that day, talking and trying to calm James down. And in that short time, it was as if... something clicked."

He paused, his eyes distant as he relived that moment in his mind. "I can't explain it, but for me, it was pretty much love at first sight."

Christian's words hung in the air, a testament to the depth of emotion that had marked the beginning of his relationship with Camille. Alexandra listened with rapt attention, her own emotions swirling as she began to uncover a side of her mother that had been concealed from her for so long.