Cammy t Ric’s eyes, her expression softening with a faint, wistful smile.
"Greg offered," she said quietly. "He’s going overseas for a month. Said he won’t need in the office since everything I do can be managed remotely."
There was a beat of silence.
"I see," Ric murmured, his tone neutral, but the smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He turned his gaze toward Dylan, who had just climbed back onto his chair, licking barbecue sauce from his fingers with innocent delight. Then, Ric’s voice rang out, louder, clear enough to catch the boy’s attention.
"Well then—since you’ll be working from ho..." Ric paused for dramatic effect, "...how about we head to the resort now?"
Dylan’s head whipped toward them so fast it was a miracle he didn’t sprain his neck. He had a chicken drumstick half-hanging from his mouth, but the joy exploding in his eyes was unmistakable.
Cammy let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "We can’t," she said, trying to stay firm. "Dylan has school on Wednesday."
At that, Dylan’s smile wilted like a popped balloon. He slowly turned back to his food, suddenly chewing with less enthusiasm. His shoulders sank just a little.
Ric caught the change imdiately and smirked to himself, hiding his amusent behind the rim of his glass.
"But..." he began again, this ti more casually, "can’t we ask the school to let him continue studying through hoschool? Just until his cast is off? Wouldn’t that be better for him?"
Cammy tilted her head slightly, considering—but still skeptical.
Ric pressed gently on, his voice calm but persuasive. "Besides, the wedding’s going to be at the resort anyway. If we go now, you can oversee everything more easily. Be there to approve decisions on the spot, no need for last-minute back-and-forths."
Dylan’s head turned again—this ti with intent. His hands pressed together in silent prayer, his eyes practically shimring with hope. ’Please, please, please, Mom.’
Ric leaned against the edge of the counter, watching both of them with quiet satisfaction. "You’ll be working from ho either way. And with Dylan hoschooling, you can both be in a peaceful environnt. No traffic, no chaos. Just work, rest, and maybe a little sun."
Cammy folded her arms, her expression unreadable now. Her gaze drifted to the wall as her mind spun in silent circles, weighing logic against longing.
She was tired. The idea of breathing ocean air instead of city smog, of letting Dylan play on the shore while she worked with her laptop nearby—it sounded like a dream. A brief escape. And maybe... a needed one.
She finally looked at Ric, then at Dylan—whose hands were still clasped together in exaggerated prayer.
"Let call his horoom adviser," she said at last, her voice quiet but decisive. "Let’s see if it’s even possible."
Dylan gasped and broke into a grin as Cammy stepped away from the table, picking up her phone with slow, deliberate movents. She walked toward the window, her fingers already dialing, the city skyline looming quietly behind the glass.
Ric watched her from behind, his arms now crossed, a half-smile on his lips. But inside, he was reading every breath, every pause in her voice—trying to guess if this decision was for Dylan, for herself... or maybe still, in the quiet places of her heart, because of Greg.
Cammy stood by the window, one hand gently pressing her phone to her ear while the other absently traced the edge of the curtain. She listened as the call rang once... twice... and then,
[Hello, Ms. Watson!] ca the bright, familiar voice of Dylan’s horoom teacher.
"Hi, Teacher May. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad ti?" Cammy asked politely, trying to keep her tone casual.
[Not at all! Is everything alright with Dylan?]
Cammy exhaled softly, her voice calm but earnest. "Actually, I wanted to ask... would it be possible for Dylan to continue his hoschooling for the next few weeks? Until his cast is removed.
I know he’s supposed to return to school on Wednesday, but I was thinking... it might be safer and more comfortable for him to stay ho a little longer."
There was a pause—and then Teacher May replied warmly, [Cammy, I’m so glad you brought that up. I was actually planning to suggest the exact sa thing.
Dylan has been doing great with his remote lessons, and to be honest, I think keeping him ho for now is the best choice. It’ll give his leg more ti to heal, and he won’t have to deal with the stress of the school environnt just yet.]
Cammy blinked, montarily surprised by the teacher’s instant agreent. "Oh—really? That’s a relief. Thank you so much. I was worried it might be too sudden."
[Not at all. We can continue his learning modules online. I’ll email you the updated schedule tonight.]
Cammy smiled, feeling a sudden lightness in her chest. "Thank you again, Teacher May. That ans a lot."
She ended the call and turned back toward the dining area, her smile widening as she saw Dylan still frozen in hopeful anticipation, hands still pressed together in prayer, lips moving silently as if striking a divine bargain.
"Well..." Cammy said, dragging out the word.
Dylan looked up.
"I just spoke with Teacher May—and she agreed. You’ll continue hoschooling until your cast cos off."
"YES!!!" Dylan cried, leaping up with excitent and instantly regretting it. "Ow—okay, no jumping, but still—YES!!!"
He hobbled over and hugged his mom’s waist tightly, grinning from ear to ear. "Best day ever!"
Cammy laughed, hugging him back tightly before gently ushering him back to his seat.
Ric clapped his hands together once, a satisfied look crossing his face. "Then it’s settled," he said with an almost smug warmth. "Looks like we’re heading to the resort."
"Not so fast," Cammy said, raising an eyebrow as she turned toward the table. "We’re not going anywhere until you all finish your lunch."
"Aw, Mom..." Dylan groaned but picked up his fork obediently.
Ric chuckled and reached for his own plate. "Yes, ma’am."
As laughter filled the apartnt, Cammy stood for a mont, soaking it in—the joy, the unexpected turn of events, the subtle shift in the air. Her heart was still carrying unspoken heaviness, but for the first ti in days, it felt... manageable. Like maybe this trip wouldn’t just be an escape.
Maybe it was a beginning.
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