Camille's POV

After speaking, Kemp shifted his gaze away as if even glancing at me again was a waste of time. He looked just like he did the day we broke up—cold, dismissive, and distant.

The hotel staff, seeing this, immediately shoved me toward the exit.

“Move it! I’ve seen plenty like you, poor but full of pride. Someone helps you once, and you think you can cling to them forever?”

I dodged his hand and shot back, irritated, “I already said, I’ll leave after I find what I’m looking for. And if there’s any damage, I’ll pay for it.”

But he only scoffed, his face twisted with mockery. “Pay? You?” He pointed at the trash bin beside us and continued, “You know what that is? It's a custom-designed piece by an Italian artist worth fourteen grand! Can you afford that? This is a luxury resort hotel. Everything here costs more than someone like you could even imagine!”

He then reached out to grab me again, but Kemp, who had already reached the elevator, suddenly turned around and shouted, “That’s enough.”

He walked over, face expressionless, eyes distant, and asked, “What exactly are you looking for? I’ll pay you whatever it’s worth in cash. Just stop using these pathetic tricks to get my attention. It’s tiresome. I’m not interested in you anymore.”

Wendy quickly tightened her grip on his arm, her smile gentle and gracious. “Camille, we’re getting married. I know you weren’t ready to let go when you two broke up, but you can’t force love. I hope you’ll carry yourself with dignity.”

I gave her a small smile and sincerely said, “Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Then I crouched back down and continued searching for my son’s shell in the trash.

“What will it take for you to leave?” Kemp’s voice grew more impatient. “Or are you still hung up on that 72,500 I gave Wendy?”

After saying that, he pulled out his phone and tapped quickly.

“Fine. I’ll send it to you now. Just take the money and disappear. Don’t ever show up in front of me again. The only person I’ve ever loved is Wendy. Those two years with you? They were just me running from how I felt about her. This money should be more than enough for you to start fresh. Go find someone who actually suits you. Stop wasting your time on me.”

Suddenly, he paused, his fingers frozen mid-motion. “Your account’s frozen? You’re on the defaulters’ list?”

That was when I realized that he’d tried transferring the money to the old card I used when I accepted his mom’s financial help.

After I got married, I only ever used the black card my husband gave me. Of course, that old card was frozen.

But clearly, in his mind, I’d only gotten worse over time.

First, I was the greedy gold digger. Now, a deadbeat too.

“I don’t need the money,” I said calmly, too tired to explain.

He narrowed his eyes, his voice turning colder. “You’re literally digging through garbage, and you still refuse help?”

I frowned, confused. “We broke up five years ago. We're basically strangers now. Why would I accept help from you?”

After a pause, I added, “Really, don’t send the money. I don’t need it.”

Because if someone found out money came from Kemp, he’d start asking me a lot of questions.

And if he ever uncovered my history with Kemp, he’d be jealous for the rest of the month.

Kemp seemed stunned, then let out a soft laugh. “Camille, don’t get the wrong idea. I was just pitying you. Trust me, I have no feelings left.”

Still, he stared at my muddy, disheveled appearance for a long time, then his expression slowly shifted to guilt or pity.

“You’ve fallen this far. Maybe the breakup hit you harder than I thought,” he muttered. “I suppose I do carry some blame. Is this why you won’t take the money? To keep me feeling guilty?”

Wendy, seeing his mood change, quickly stepped in to comfort him gently.

Camille's POV

“She’s a top medical school graduate, Kemp. She’s perfectly capable of getting a job and taking care of herself,” Wendy said with a sweet but sharp voice. “If she’s ended up like this, it’s no one’s fault but her own. It simply means she’s lazy and unmotivated.”

“You could tell even back then,” she continued. “Sure, she came from a poor family, but instead of working part-time to pay for school, she just took your mom’s money without question. That says a lot. She’s poor and lazy.”

“Wendy!” I snapped, cutting her off. “I paid back every cent your aunt gave me, with interest. So watch your mouth.”

Caught off guard, Wendy sulked and tugged at Kemp’s sleeve. “Forget it, Kemp. She’s so prideful. No matter how kind you are, she’ll just take it as an insult. Let’s not waste our time on her.”

“You two don’t need to concern yourselves with my life,” I said coldly, turning back to keep digging through the trash.

Then suddenly, I saw it.

A small pouch of colorful seashells.

Finally found it, I let out a breath of relief. But just as I reached for it, Kemp grabbed my wrist and yanked me to my feet.

“Camille, you thought a dollar wasn’t enough back then. But now you’re digging through trash cans and still can’t find that much, can you?” he sneered. “But let me tell you, even if you’ve fallen this low, playing the pity card won’t work on me. I’m not taking you back.”

For a moment, I was speechless.

All these years later, and he still thought we broke up because of that stupid dollar?

The truth was, when Wendy suddenly went abroad and ghosted him, he spiraled. He was so heartbroken that it nearly destroyed him.

His mother asked me to look after him, and since she had helped me financially, I stayed by his side through it all. Over time, we naturally grew close and ended up together.

But the moment Wendy came back, he started pulling away, ignoring my calls, leaving my messages on read.

And on our third anniversary, he only sent me a dollar. If that wasn’t a message to “get lost,” I didn’t know what was.

The sad part? I still couldn’t bring myself to let go. Not until I saw the message Wendy sent me. That was when I gave up for good. And he knew that he had to.

I stared at the hand gripping my wrist and said calmly, “Kemp, I’m doing just fine now. I’ve never once thought about going back to you. You can relax.”

I tried pulling my hand away, but he didn’t budge.

“Didn’t you say it yourself?” I reminded him. “You told me, if we broke up, I better not come crawling back. I’ve remembered those words ever since.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, so I added, “I’m married now. My husband has a temper. If he saw you grabbing me like this, it wouldn’t end well for either of us.”

Only then did he finally let go, eyes wide with shock.

“You got married behind my back?!” His brows knitted together. “Where is he? What kind of man lets his wife end up in a state like this?”

When he saw I didn't answer, he let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I get it. Trying to get a rise out of me by saying you’re married? Even if you said you had a kid, I still wouldn’t care.”

He didn’t need to spell it out. I already knew. His heart had only ever held Wendy.

But the thing was, he was the one who confessed to me first.

I even asked him over and over if he was truly over Wendy. Beck then, he had looked me in the eyes and promised he’d forgotten her.

That was the only reason I ever said yes to being with him.

Now, somehow, I was the clingy, manipulative ex in his story?

I shook my head, letting out a breath as I shrugged. “Think whatever you want.”

Wendy wrinkled her nose, backing up a step like the smell was too much for her.

“Kemp, this place stinks. Let’s go. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate your kindness anyway.”

But Kemp didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on me, like he still wasn’t ready to let this go.

Camille's POV

Wendy gave me a cold once-over and said sharply, “You really care more about pride than survival, huh? Fine, since we’re meeting with an investor today and need someone to serve drinks, how about this? I'll pay you seven grand if you help out. That amount should be more than enough for someone like you to live on for an entire year, right?”

After a moment, Kemp finally spoke up. “Camille, your pride is what’s holding you back. You won’t take money straight up, but surely you’d accept payment for honest work, right?”

I almost laughed. The nerve of these two!

“Do you two seriously have nothing better to do?” I said flatly. “I don’t have time to entertain your ‘rich people playing savior’ fantasy. Do me a favor and stay out of my way.”

What a joke.

I had canceled multiple important surgeries just to take three days off and vacation with my son. And now they were asking me to serve tea and snacks? Unbelievable!

My repeated refusal made Kemp’s face go stiff with anger, and even Wendy, who usually all grace and composure, rolled her eyes in irritation.

As such, people nearby started whispering.

“Mr. Stokes, that woman’s both broke and stubborn. You really trust her to serve someone so important?”

“I’d say forget it. If she offends the investor, today’s meeting could go completely south.”

The hotel staff began to panic, too. One of them quickly ran off and came back with security.

“Get her out of here now!” the waiter snapped. “The investor reception is about to start, and the VIP guest from the top-floor presidential suite could be coming down any second.”

He glared at me like I’d ruined everything and continued, “Ma’am, today’s attendees are some of the city’s biggest names. Especially Mr. Smith from Sydney. His wife and kid were also with him. We've never hosted someone of that level before.”

“If this were any other day, I’d turn a blind eye to you digging through the trash. I might’ve even given you some cardboard to sell. But not today. If you cause trouble now, it’ll ruin the hotel’s reputation with elite guests from both cities. And I’m just a staff member, I can’t afford to take that fall. I’m begging you, please just go,” he begged suddenly.

Security, who had been holding back, now stepped in and tried to drag me out.

But I struggled against them. “I can leave on my own!”

Finally, seeing that I was walking away, everyone around us let out a collective sigh of relief.

But then, Kemp suddenly barked at me. “Wait!”

His eyes were locked on the seashells in my hand. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

“Camille,” he said hoarsely, “Why don’t you get it? I don’t need those shells anymore.”

I looked down at the seashells in my palm, and suddenly, memories came flooding back.

It was the year he broke up with Wendy that his family started sponsoring me.

Kemp had completely shut down. Every day, he just sat on the beach, staring at the ocean. No crying, no smiling, just hollow silence, like a ghost of himself.

His mother was worried and asked me to check on him from time to time.

I took that to heart.

I’d sit beside him at the beach for hours, keeping him company without saying much. Just being there.

One day, he got swept up by a wave. Luckily, I pulled him out of the water with everything I had, but I passed out from exhaustion.

He held me and sobbed like a child. And when I came to, I picked up a small shell and handed it to him.

“Kemp,” I’d whispered, “From now on, every time I give you a shell, will you smile for me?”

His eyes were red, but he nodded and smiled.

After that, every time I went to the beach, I’d collect a handful of seashells as I wanted to see him smile a few more times.

So many years had passed. I’d nearly forgotten all about that until he brought it up today.

I stood there, quiet and still, when suddenly Wendy let out a snide laugh.

“Oh, please, Camille. That whole box of seashells in his room? He threw them out years ago.”

She looked at me with mock pity and smirked, “You’re not seriously thinking a handful of childish shells is going to win him back, are you? That was just a little game he played to humor you back then. And you actually believed it all these years?”