CAMILLE'S POV

When I approached Neal, I could see the anger in my children's eyes.

It was like they already knew something. My steps slowed when I reached the bench.

Neal looked up to see me, his eyes squinting to block out the sun burning behind me.

"Hey," he greeted.

I offered him a warm smile. Perhaps for a goodbye that didn't last a day. "Hey."

"I'm sorry," he continued.

"You're not at fault here," I assured him. It was the truth. My anger could not tip over to him. He was the one who ...