Author's Note: This is Chapter 6 in Mirror Images series. I've made no effort to include backstory in this short chapter so it won't make much sense on its own. I've included it in this section of Literotica since it follows directly from Chapter 5, which was published in this section. Happy to receive constructive criticism, on all chapters of the series, and to hear ideas for future stories.
The kitchen gleamed, every surface polished and shining in the soft morning light. Summer Forqurean stood by the counter, her fingers tracing the smooth, cool marble grounding herself in the tactile reality of the moment. The stainless-steel appliances reflected everything in fragments--her silhouette, the slant of sunlight cutting through the skylight, the endless Pacific to the west through the spotless window.
She stared toward the ocean, not really seeing it. Her mind unraveling the strange twists of her life. The unexpected bends in the road that had somehow led her here, to this moment, to this kitchen. It wasn't a bad life--objectively, she knew she was extraordinarily lucky. It was just... different. Not the life she had once imagined for herself, the one she'd mapped out so carefully back in college, back at Zeta Mu Xi sorority.
But things changed. You made decisions, took risks, or you didn't. Or someone else -- a friend or someone you might not even know -- waylaid your plans through their actions -- well-intentioned or nefarious. And somewhere along the way, the life you thought was yours shifted, subtly at first, then entirely. She smiled at the thought, a small, private smile that barely reached her lips. It was strange how the most unexpected things could become normal, how the life you never saw coming could start to feel like it had always been waiting for you.
The kettle whistled, high and sharp, cutting through the stillness. Summer moved quickly but with purpose, lifting it from the stovetop, she poured the hot water over the herbal tea bags -- tea for two.
As Summer walked out onto the wide deck outside the kitchen, below her house the waves rolled onto La Jolla beach in a slow, unhurried rhythm, indifferent to the passage of time. The horizon was blurred where the sea met the sky, a delicate merging of blues that resisted clarity. The scent of the herbal tea--earthy and grounding, mingled with the faint saltiness from the ocean.
"Thank you, Sum," Camden said, glancing up and smiling at Summer. Whisps of Camden's straight blond hair trailed back away from her face and over her shoulders in the morning onshore breeze. Camden reclined comfortably on the deck chair as she gazed out over the Pacific. "I can't get over this. Your house...this place...it's just so beautiful. It's so peaceful here."
"Our house," Summer reminded Camden, as she placed the tea on the small table between their chairs. Summer leaned down and gently kissed Camden.
"Our house then," agreed Camden.
Summer looked into Camden's light brown, innocent-looking eyes. "I'm glad she's finally here. She needs to be here, here with me -- there's so much I have to make up for," she thought.
Camden, her skin catching the warmth of the late morning sun, her body relaxed but centered, cradled the infant against her bare chest. Her thoughts drifted, unspooling in the warmth of the sun, in the slow rhythm of the nursing baby. The baby looked up at her innocently, unaware of the storm that had brought her into this world. Camden ran a finger along the baby's hand, feeling the rise of love, overwhelming and almost painful in its intensity.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Camden had seen her life laid out so clearly before -- marriage, stability, everything clean and predictable. But that one night -- and now... now here was the result of it all, this tiny, perfect life cradled in her arms, a baby with startling blue eyes. The same blue eyes as her friend, Courtney.
Her marriage had crumbled under the weight of her betrayal before it even began. She could still see Marc's face, the disbelief turning to anger and then resolve, the love evaporating as if it had never existed. The wedding guests awkwardly disbanded, and her life--what had once felt so certain--had collapsed so quickly.
"Do you have to go into your clinic today, Sum?"
"No, not until tomorrow. I wanted the chance to spend time with you today. With you and the baby."
"I'm glad."
Camden looked down at the baby again, her heart aching with the impossible tension of it. How could she feel so much love for her, and at the same time, carry the weight of the scandal that had brought her here? She wanted to believe in second chances, in the idea that she could start over -- maybe this new start, so far away, here away from many of the people who knew her and knew what she had done -- here with her best friend who had become her lover -- maybe there would finally bring a measure of peace and redemption. The baby suckled quietly at Brennan's breast, unaware of the wreckage that had been left behind.
"I had an email from Court's lawyer this morning," said Summer. "Court has her first parole hearing today. Her lawyer is optimistic about early release since she's been a model inmate."
"Sum, that would be so great!
"I know. I hate to think of her being in that place."
"I still think it was wrong that she was convicted at all -- and voluntary manslaughter seemed like too much after everything she had to go through," said Camden.
"I still wish I had known about what he had done to her, and who he was -- that I had known about him before that night," Camden continued. "Things would have been so different." Camden steadfastly refused to utter Declin's name after the trauma of her wedding reception, opting to refer to him as only, "he or him."
"Yes, what he did to Court, and what he did to you, was awful," agreed Summer. "But I suppose she had to be charged with something. And the judge did cite the extenuating circumstances -- of Declin's physical and psychological abuse. That's why he only sentenced her to the minimum -- three years."
Camden wincing at the mention of Declin's name said, "I suppose it's hard to simply walk away without consequences when you stab someone."
The memory was still vivid in Summer's mind. She had been aware of Courtney standing together with her, Brennan and Aubrey as the four of them sought to mitigate Camden's obliteration. Then suddenly hearing shouts for someone to call an ambulance, and looking up to see Courtney standing over Declin, the knife, which had been used to carve the roast beef at the reception, projecting from Declin's chest like a flagpole from his sprawled body.
Camden stood and gently laid the baby in her bassinet. "Is Court still planning on coming to LA when she's released?"
