by Jay McLean
"You see?" she says again, quieter this time.
But I can't. I can't see through my tears.
She sucks in a breath, trying to hold it in so that her cries aren't so loud.
"That's what you wanted, Cameron."
For once in my life I want her to be quiet. I don't want to hear what she has to say. I can't take it.
"That's what you pictured our lives to be and I can't give you that. How can we be together? How can I stay with you knowing that I can't give you what you've always wanted? How?" Her voice is strained by the power of her cries.
She can barely speak.
I can barely hear.
"I have to live with that, Cam. I have to live with the fact that I'm the reason you don't get your dream. And I can't do it. I'm sorry, but I can't."
I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and look at her. And that's all I do. Because I don't have the words. I don't have the strength.
"I'm right, Cam."
I shake my head.
"It's okay," she says. "You're allowed to be mad at me."
"Shut up," I clip.
She cries harder.
"None of this shit means anything without you. You think those dreams make sense without you, Lucy? You're making up lies in your head because you're a coward. I've tried to be with you every day since the miscarriage. I would've been right there, right next to you. You pushed away. You didn't want me there. Don't use this as an excuse. If you don't want me—if you don't love me anymore—if it's too hard for you, say it!"
"It is! It's too hard! You deserve to have that! You deserve to be with someone that can give you that. Maybe you should go be with Roxy!"
And at her words, I lose it. Completely lose it. A rush of anger washes through me. And before I can stop myself, I've lifted the frame in my hand and thrown it against the wall.
She screams, a scream so loud it makes my ears ring. "NOOOO!"
She's kneeling on the floor now, with the shattered frame in front of her. "I HATE YOU!"
"Fuck." I try to get to her, to kneel next to her but she pushes me away. "Lucy, I'm sorry."
"Fuck you!" she bawls. "This is all I had, Cameron. This was everything to me. This was our forever and you ruined it."
"Baby."
I'm a mess.
I fucked up.
My head whips to the sound of the door opening. Lucas walks in with the rest of her brothers. "What the f—" he cuts himself off. "Jesus Christ, Lucy, you're bleeding."
I turn back to Lucy, who's frantically trying to pick out the sketch from the frame and cutting her fingers on the glass. I don't think she even feels it.
"Lucy, stop," I whisper, grasping her wrists.
She looks up at me. Her eyes narrowed. But I see it clearly. There is no calm. Just the storm. "GET OUT!" She pushes my shoulders until I fall back. "GET OUT!" she yells again. She pounds against my chest with her closed fists. "I HATE YOU! GET OUT!"
I do nothing. I sit on my heels and let her hit me. Let her yell. Let her get angry.
Lucas's arms wrap around her chest and lift her off the ground. "Just go, Cam."
"What's happening?" a tiny voice says. Lachlan's crying in Leo's arms.
"Cameron, you need to leave," Lucas says again.
I wipe my face on my forearm, and take one more look at her. "Forever, Luce."
And then I do what everyone wants.
I leave.
-LUCY-
Lucas sets me on the floor of my bathroom and squats in front of me. "You okay, Goosey?"
I nod, even though it's a lie and he knows it.
"I know it's not fair, but Lachlan's out there. He's freaking out."
I squeeze my eyes shut and take slow breaths, trying to settle my emotions. "I'm fine," I tell him.
He opens the cupboard under the sink and pulls out a box of Band-Aids. He takes my hand in his and examines the cuts I didn't know were there. "You wanna talk about what happened?" he asks, applying the first Band-Aid.
"I can't do it, Lucas. I don't think I can be with him—not when I know how badly he wants kids."
His eyes move to the sketch, now stained with my blood.
"You think maybe that's his choice, not yours?"
"You know Cameron," I mutter. "You know he's always going to stand by me, even when he shouldn't. He won't leave. I have to make him. I have to make him hate me so he gets what he deserves. It's wrong. But it's right."
He shakes his head, applying the third and final Band-Aid. "I don't agree with you, Luce. But it's your life." His eyes move to the living room. "You should shower, get cleaned up and changed. Come out when you're ready. The boys are here to see you. They're worried."
"Did you tell them?"
"No. You asked me not to and I haven't. But one day you'll have to. You can't hide forever."
*
I get out of the shower and stand naked in front of the full-length mirror, focusing on the fresh scar that runs under my belly button. The eternal, ugly reminder of what my forever can't be.
I close my eyes, remembering all the times Cam stood behind me, right here, with his arms around my now damaged waist. My eyes prick with bitter tears. 'You're so beautiful,' he'd say in my ear. 'I'm so damn lucky, Luce. And I'll never forget it.'
I push back the sob threatening to escape. He's not lucky. Not at all. Not anymore.
Running a hand down my pajamas, I fake a smile into the mirror, and carry it all the way to the living room.
And then I let out a loud gasp.
I cry.
And I laugh.
"Story time, Goose," Lucas says.
Somehow, they've created a makeshift tent using the dining table and the couches as walls, and used bed sheets to cover it.
"It's not as easy as it used to be. I think we've all grown since we did this last. Well, everyone but you," he jokes.
Lachlan's laugh warms my heart. So innocent. So clueless to what's happening. "You're short," he announces. "I'm calling you shaaawty!"
Leo laughs with him. "That means she's your girl, Lachy. You don't want your sister to be your girl."
He makes a disgusted face as we all try to squeeze into the tiny space. "I got a girl," he shouts. "I spit in her hair and asked her to kiss me."
Little Logan roars with laughter. "If that worked, you are my hero."
Lachlan's eyes go huge while he nods enthusiastically. "Totally worked," he says. "The next day I did it to Michele! Now I got two girls... and all they do is bug me!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
-LUCY-
It's been weeks since I last saw Cameron. He hasn't called. I haven't called him. But I miss him. So much.
I moved back to the main house after the tent party—that's what we called it. Lucas and I waited for the others to fall asleep in there before sitting out on the porch steps and having a beer. Well, he did. I can't drink because of the painkillers.
We promised each other to try to do it once a month. He's only home another year before he goes to college, if he goes to college. He says he still doesn't know. He's considering staying home, working with Dad. He said that Dad's face lit up when he told him and that Dad had a meeting with his business manager to see if he could get the company name changed to Preston and Sons. Lucas didn't say it, but I knew that made him happy.
Living in the house helps. There's always something to do, someone to talk to, something to smile or laugh about.
But unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, none of those things are Cameron.
The boys spend a lot of the days by the lake. I haven't been there yet; too many memories. Lachlan and I have gotten to know each other better. It's a little sad that I've missed out on him growing up the last two years. He's such an amazing kid, so full of life, not a care in the world. He's tried to get me to play in Filmore with him, but I can't bring myself to go near it. I don't think my heart could take it. It's always going to be the reminder of the first time Cameron told me he loved me, even though I think we both kne
w it well before then.
"You ready?" Dad asks with Lachlan latched on his back.
I fake another smile. "Yeah."
*
We go to lunch at an indoor play center for Lachlan's sixth birthday. Even though it's not really a party, we hired out a party room to accommodate everyone. "This is my favorite place in the whole wide world," Lachlan shouts. "Apart from Filmore. I love Filmore the bestest. Dad's going to build a teleporter in there for me so I can build ice cream machines and teleport them to all the houses everywhere."
"That sounds amazing," I tell him.
His head whips to the door. "CAM!"
My eyes follow his. "Hey, buddy," Cam says, but his gaze is focused on me. I don't blink. I don't move. I don't even breathe. I can't. Because if I do, I know that I'll end up in his arms, giving him a hope that doesn't exist. It's wrong for me to want that, but it feels even more wrong for me to miss him.
"You came!" Lachlan yells, then looks to Dad. "Thank you!"
And my heart tightens.
Cam smiles, and then bends over so he's eye to eye with Lachlan. "Happy birthday!" He scruffs Lachlan's hair. "You're getting old. I think I see some grays in there."
Lachlan laughs and swats his hand away.
"Lucy?" Leo asks from opposite me. "Is it okay if I say hi to Cam?"
My eyes drift shut, letting the ache of my broken heart consume me. I swallow the knot in my throat and try not to make my feelings evident when I open my eyes to see him watching me, unsure of my reaction. "Of course you can." I look at the rest of the boys. They're on the edge of their seats, just as excited to see him as Lachlan is, but they're hesitant, like they think it's wrong to want him here. "You guys," my voice breaks. "It's okay to be excited to see him. Go."
So they do.
One by one they high-five, fist bump, shake hands, whatever it is boys do. And Cam—he takes his time with each of them, knowing the right questions to ask. He always did. He always knew what was going on in their lives. What each of them was into. He always paid special attention, always made them feel like individuals.
"Don't be mad, baby girl," Dad says. "I asked Lachlan what he wanted for his birthday and he said Cameron."
"I'm not mad," I tell him honestly.
Lachlan sits next to me, pulling on Cameron's hand until he's seated on the other side.
Our eyes lock for what feels like forever.
"Hey," he finally says.
I try to smile. "Hey."
The waitress comes to take orders. Apparently she knows Lucas, because her eyes go wide and she freezes mid-stride when she sees him. She takes the orders, and as soon as she's gone the room erupts with 'ooooooohhs'. Lucas just shakes his head, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
"Hey," Little Logan says to Lachlan. "You should go spit in her hair and ask her to kiss you. Make her your shaaaawty."
We laugh.
Lachlan shrugs. "Okay!" And then he's out of his seat and walking toward the door.
"No!" Lucas shouts after him.
Cam's on his feet. "I got it." He throws Lachlan over his shoulder and turns to Dad. "Is it okay if we play for a bit?"
Dad nods. "Of course. I'm sure he'd love that."
They leave.
And so do I—outside for some fresh air—because I can't breathe when Cam's this close.
I don't know how long I'm out there before Lucas's head pops out from behind the door. "There you are. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I answer with feigned peppiness.
"The food’s here."
The only two spots left on the table are next to Cameron. Lucas, being the asshole he is, takes the one furthest from him.
"Hey, Cam!" Lachlan shouts. I've noticed since being home that shouting is his standard volume. I guess when you live in a house with five other boys, shouting is the only way to get attention.
"Yeah, bud?" Cam asks, loading Lachlan's plate with a bit of everything on the table. Nuggets, fries, spaghetti, you name it, we got it.
"I got pupsended from school for eleventy-three days!"
"Pupsended?" Cam muses.
The twins roll their eyes simultaneously. "He means suspended," Liam tells him.
"You got suspended?" Cam laughs. "Why?"
"Because I did this," Lachlan yells.
A synced round of 'NOOO's' fills the room, just us Lachlan picks up a handful of spaghetti and throws it across the table, toward Little Logan, yelling, "YOLO!"
Cam's head throws back in laughter.
Little Logan curses and leaves the room.
"At least it wasn't dog shit," Dad shouts after him.
That brings on another round of laughter, even from me.
When I finally settle, I see Cam watching me.
"What?" I ask him.
"You still make my world stop, Luce."
I eat my food in silence, finding it impossible to swallow, almost as impossible as continuously blinking back my tears.
He nudges me lightly with his elbow. "I gotta get going," he says quietly, leaning down so only I can hear him. "Can we talk?"
I inhale deeply and nod, my eyes never leaving my plate.
"Hey, Lachy," he says, louder this time. "Thanks so much for inviting me to your birthday party, but I have to go."
He stands up and pushes his chair back.
"No," Lachlan cries. "Not yet."
My eyes snap to him. He's looking at Dad, his eyes pleading. "Make him stay, Daddy! It's still my birthday and he's my present!"
My heart doesn't just break this time; it disintegrates into a thousand pieces.
Cam sniffs once. "I have to work, bud. I'm sorry."
"No!" Lachlan's standing on his seat, looking around the table, begging for one of us to make Cam stay. "Why?" He's bawling now. "It's summer, Lucy's home now and you're not there and I don't know why. You've always been there when Lucy's there and now you're not. Did she not like it when you spit in her hair?"
Cam laughs, but it's sad. He looks at me, and I look away—because I can’t stand to see the hurt clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lachy, but I have to work."
"But Daddy goes to work! And he comes home when he's finished and plays. Will you come back when you finish work?"
Lucas stands from next to me. "Hey Lachy, did you hear that? Pretty sure that was the giant red slide calling your name."
Dad stands now. "Pretty sure I just heard it call for all the Preston men. Did you hear that, Leo?"
Leo nods, his eyes wide. "It's shouting at us, Lachy! We better go."
Lachlan laughs and jumps on Lucas's back.
A second later, we're alone.
Just him and me.
And a shitload of unsettled emotions.
He wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand before facing me. Jerking his head to the door, he asks, "Outside?"
*
We sit at the outdoor tables just outside the play center. "How are you?" he asks, his voice strained.
"Okay."
He shakes his head slowly. "This isn't awkward at all."
"Yeah."
It's silent as he stares straight ahead.
"You wanted to talk?" I ask him.
He drops his head and turns to me. "Yeah, but it just seems stupid now."
"Oh."
"Not—I don't mean talking to you is stupid, I just mean—" his sigh cuts him off. Then he shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper.
I gasp.
"No, it's not—" he shakes his head quickly. "It's not a sketch. I still haven't been able to pick up a pen."
A frown pulls at my lips.
He unfolds the paper and sets it on the table in front of me. I peel my eyes away from him and look down. It's a newspaper article with a picture of him and a man shaking hands in front of the ballpark near campus. The headline; UNC STUDENT WOWS CITY COUNCIL JUDGES. "What is this?" I ask, my eyes scanning the words.
"You know how you used to always tell me to enter competitions—to show pe
ople what I can do?"
"You entered a design?"
He nods. "Yeah, the city council ran this competition to design a playground in that empty lot near the ballpark. And I won, Luce."
An overwhelming sense of pride consumes me. I cry—but it's so different to the thousand tears I've shed recently.
"I'm sorry," he sympathizes, "I didn't mean to make you cry."
I shake my head, my tears in full force. And then I look up at him. He licks his lips, his eyes searching mine. "They're good tears, Cameron. I'm just so proud of you."
He laughs once. "Thanks. Honestly, I'm proud of myself. I didn't think I had a chance."
"But your work is so good. And I'm so glad that you put yourself out there, because now you know—maybe now you can believe in yourself."
"Like you did?"
I wipe my eyes and nod.
"I just wanted you to know, Lucy—because I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you and your dad, steering me in the right direction—encouraging me, believing in me." He sniffs back the tears I know he's hiding. "I just wanted to say thank you."
I look back down at the article. "Can I keep this?"
"Of course," he laughs. "Mom kind of went crazy and ordered dozens of copies of that newspaper. She's mailed it out to almost everyone she knows."
I laugh at his words. "She's just proud of you, Cameron. I can't wait to show my dad. He'll be so excited for you. When did you enter?"
"A couple weeks before you left for New Jersey."
"Oh." I fold up the article and pocket it.
"So," he starts, and then cuts himself off.
"So?"
He inhales deeply, like he's building the courage to say what he says next. "There was a prize for the winner—it's kind of the reason why I entered. It was five thousand dollars cash."
I'm smiling. Genuine. For the first time in so damn long. "That's amazing!"
"Yeah..."
"What are you gonna do with the money?"
"That's the thing, Luce. I entered hoping to win because... fuck. This is so hard."
"What's hard?"
"All of it. Everything. Talking to you. Being this close and not being able to touch you. Trying to speak to you... but it's like... I second guess everything I'm saying because—"
