Crash

Camille

This was his revenge. 

Everything was starting to make sense now. Mattia had this planned all along. This was why he forgave her, why he didn't yell, why he didn't make her grovel. He planned to punish her a different way, to torture her psychologically in a way that would hurt a whole lot more than being berated in front of the crowd. 

Still waiting for an answer, Camille stared at her, eyes crawling over every inch of her, like she was trying to suss her out. By now, all the pieces had fallen into place. Charles's ex-girlfriend, his first and greatest love before her, the girl who'd he'd left just before falling for Penelope. The girl who looked just like her. 

"I'll leave you to talk," Mattia announced, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked upon Penelope's frozen expression. "I hope you enjoy the evening, ladies."

"Sorry," Penelope stammered once he'd left, her fingers trembling uncontrollably as she tried to swallow down the lump forming at the back of her throat. She felt like her lungs were filling with water, someone holding her head under while she fought to stay above sea level. "I...I'm Penelope. Nice to meet you."

Camille laughed, the sound soft and mellow. Penelope had to swallow another wave of nausea. Charles had always told her that he loved the sound of her laugh. Maybe it was because it sounded exactly like Camille's. 

"Oh no, silly!" Camille said, fingers grazing against Penelope's arm in jest. "I already know who you are. Mattia told me much about you over dinner last night. It was so lovely of him to invite me, after all it's been so long since I've even stepped foot in a paddock. About a year, is that right?"

"Oh, I...I don't-"

"I miss it, really. You will too, one day. You think you won't, but you will."

Penelope wanted to say 'What's that supposed to mean?' but it came out as "Ah."

Camille regarded her again, her fingers outstretched like she wanted to touch Penelope but thought better of it. "You really are very pretty. I mean, I thought you were beautiful when I saw you on TV but in person...wow. No wonder he fell for you. Who wouldn't, when you look like that?"

Once again, Penelope's words failed her. She wasn't even sure what to feel. She'd expected to hate Camille, for her to be some big scary witch like she'd seen in the fairy tales her abuelo used to read to her when she was young. But really, she was just a girl wearing a pretty dress at a fancy party. Somehow, that made it worse. 

Fortunately, Camille seemed to be too caught up in her own thoughts to notice. "He always liked pretty girls," she continued, eyes drifting to what Penelope was wearing. "Oh. You're a dancer?"

"I'm a figure skater."

"I know," Camille nodded, still staring. "I saw the pictures from that competition you won. Charles looked happy. It was sweet."

"Thank you," Penelope said quietly, the hairs on the back of her neck still standing on end. "We really don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I-"

"No, no. It's fine. Fancy a drink?"

"Oh, I really shouldn't-"

"You stole my boyfriend," Camille said plainly, her eyes fixed on her. "Least you could do is have a drink with me."

For a second, Penelope just stood in complete and shocked silence. When Camille saw her expression, she gave her a small smile, waving over the bartender. "I'm kidding, by the way. That was a joke."

Slowly, Penelope sipped on her wine, trying to muster up enough courage to defend herself, if it came to that. Something in Camille's expression told her that it wasn't really a joke at all.