"You called?" he stammered.

"Yes," Camila confirmed. "But a woman answered. She said you were showering and I asked her to tell you to call back. Didn't she pass on the message?"

Forrest's smile faltered. “No, she didn't mention it.”

“Is it serious?" Camila's voice sharpened.

Forrest approached and sat on the sofa. “What do you mean, serious?"

"The woman," she clarified, her gaze fixed on him. "Are you involved with her?"

“It's nothing," he shrugged. “Just a physical thing."

Camila was stunned. Frowning, she asked, “Have you given up on yourself?"

Forrest's expression turned serious. "No, but I'm human. I have needs. I found someone and had sex. Is that so wrong?"

Wrong? It felt incredibly wrong to Camila.

He just found someone to sleep around with?

"Are all men like this?" she blurted out.

"Probably," Forrest offered, then added quickly, "Except maybe Isaac. He seems to have more self-control."

Camila scoffed. "That last part felt like a backtrack. Are you covering for him?"

“You've known him longer," Forrest countered. “Don't you trust him?"

Camila nodded. She didn't doubt Isaac.

“Take care," she said, rising to leave.

It was late, and she needed sleep.

Forrest stopped her. "Why'd you call?"

Camila tapped her head, remembering. “We're moving back to the manor tomorrow. We need your help.”