“We’re about to get started,” he said. “Jeremiah and his family are over talking to the news outlets now, but I thought you might want to see them before the speech.”
“Yes.” I wiped my cheeks, though they were dry, before grabbing my purse out of the passenger seat and taking Cameron’s hand. “Yes, I want to see them.”
Cameron helped me out of the car, closing the door behind me, and then we stood there together, strangers and lovers all at once.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I know last night was… I’m sorry, for leaving the way I did, and for sleeping in the guest room. I figured you needed your space.”
“I did. Thank you. And don’t apologize,” I added, shaking my head as I looked down at my little white sneakers in the dirt. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Cameron breathed out a laugh, grabbing my hands in his. “I have many things that fall under that category, actually. I think you and I both know that.”
I smiled, but it fell quickly, my eyes still on the dirt beyond our hands.
“I have something for you.”
Cameron pulled his hands away, reaching into his back pocket to reveal a long, slender, black velvet box. He held it in both hands like an offering, like I was his queen, and I traced the edges of that box before my eyes trailed up his arms to his face.
“What is it?”
He swallowed, searching my eyes with his own as he opened the box.
For a moment, I just looked at him — at my husband — my own face mirrored in the warm brown reflection of his eyes. The way he looked in that moment reminded me of a day long ago, a day when he was unusually quiet, when I wondered for hours what was on his mind. He’d had the same crease between his brows that day, the same slight tremble in his hands.
It was the day he proposed.
I let myself breathe in that memory a moment longer before I finally gazed down, and when I did, I gasped.
Inside the box was a small, gold bracelet.
It was dainty, the chain slender and light, and in the center of it rested four stones. The center ones were an emerald and a sapphire, the green and blue gems reflecting the sunlight above us as Cameron carefully removed the bracelet from the box. Those two stones were hugged by pearls on each end, and I stared at those pearls as Cameron held the bracelet carefully, signaling for me to hold out my wrist.
“I know today is a day that will change our lives,” he said as I extended my hand forward, turning my wrist up. “And I also know your heart hurts today. I know I have hurt you, that I have failed you as a husband in so many ways, but I also know that you know I love you.”
He clasped the bracelet, and I turned my palm down again, staring at where the gemstones rested across my petite wrist bones.
“The emerald is your birth stone,” he said, holding my forearm in one hand as he used the other to point out the stones. “The sapphire is mine. And the pearls are for Jeremiah and Derrick.”
My heart squeezed at the sound of their names coming from Cameron’s lips, and though I knew it was unlikely, I swore I felt my newest child stir to life inside me, too.
“No matter what happens today, I want you to have us,” he said, his voice tender and soft. “I want you to remember me, and them. I’m sorry I ever tried to make you forget, that I ever thought that would fix the hole left in your heart by their passing.”
He tilted my chin up then, his knuckle resting there as he searched my eyes.
“I want you to stay, Charlie,” he whispered, his voice breaking on my name. “God, do I want you to stay. But no matter what you decide today, I want you to know it’s okay. I’m okay. As long as you’re happy, as long as your life is what you want it to be, I will be happy, too.”
“Cameron…”
“No, no, don’t say anything,” he pleaded. “Not yet. Please, just… if this is my last day to call you my own, let me have today.”
My eyes welled with tears, and I stared at my husband through them, wishing I could comfort him. I wished I could take his pain and Reese’s both. I wished I could go back and do something, anything, that might have prevented the pain from happening in the first place.
“I will be at home waiting for you tonight,” he said after a moment. “No matter what the decision is, it’s okay. Just… come home, and we will figure it out together.”
I rolled my lips between my teeth, holding them there as I nodded.
Cameron smiled, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine, like he was taking in the way the sunshine looked reflected in them just one last time. Then, he let my hand go, stepping back and releasing the tension between us.
“Let’s go talk to Jeremiah,” he said, and he held out an arm to escort me.
I slipped my hand inside, wrapping it around his bicep, and together we walked in a sort of daze toward the crowd.
I spoke with Jeremiah and his family, talked to my parents, listened intently as my father gave a speech, and clapped loudly with the rest of the crowd as the first shovel was planted into the ground. I watched as my husband shook hands with the mayor and Jeremiah’s parents, stared as he took photo after photo, and even smiled bright and confidently when I was asked to join.
I lived the day, and to anyone around me, it would have seemed like I was fine.
But inside, I was burning.
I was caught in the flames of the fire I had started, the one I’d wanted to warm me, now slowly killing me, instead. Both Cameron and Reese were my oxygen, but as much as they cleansed my lungs, they also fueled the fire. It was a deadly circle, a never-ending cycle of torture, and to stop it, I had to jump through the hottest part of the fire.
This was it.
My mind was made up, and my heart, too. Still, I knew I would feel the scars I was about to leave just as much as the man I’d mark them with.
Jane Austen once wrote that to love is to burn, and I never knew the true meaning of that until the very moment I singed my heart with the love I had for two men at once. I wasn’t supposed to love them both, and some would say it wasn’t possible, but I was living proof that it was.
Love had shown me a new side, one more painful than I could have ever imagined, and yet the promise of a beautiful, happy life lay just on the other side of the flames.
All that was left to do now was jump.
Left or right.
It was as simple as that, except it wasn’t simple at all.
If I went left, the road would eventually lead me to the house on the east side of Mount Lebanon — to the man I promised my life to, the one I’d imagined building a family with, the one who’d done everything in his power to try to keep me.
If I went right, the road would take me to a house not so familiar — to the man I used to only know as a boy, the man who came back unannounced, the man I loved first, before I even knew what love was.
I’d spent the evening up on the Incline, watching the sun set over the city as I worked through what I had to do, and now I was back in my car, back on the road that I knew I’d always eventually drive on. The tears I’d fought back had finally come, and now, I was convinced I didn’t have any more to shed. They were all dried on my face, inky lines of mascara marring each cheek like scars.
I was at the fork I knew I’d eventually get to all along, the decision I never wanted to make between two choices I never knew I had before two months ago.
The truth was simple.
I loved them both.
My heart was forever severed, destined to exist in two equal halves — one with each man.
One half of me would forever be with Cameron, with the man I’d vowed to let hold me as his own until our last breaths. One half of my heart belonged to his quiet, loving heart, to the home we’d built together, to the promises we’d made in our youth — the ones we’d solidified as we grew together.
The other half would always be with Reese, with the man who was never supposed to come back, the one who shook up my entire life when he did. One half of
my heart belonged to his loud, passionate love, to the music we’d made, to the sins we’d committed knowing in our hearts they were right even when they felt wrong.
Yes, my heart was severed, and I accepted that as my new truth.
But one half beat stronger.
One half had the vein that ran deepest, the love that spoke loudest, and one half held my choice in silence well before I ever admitted it out loud.
The other half would always be a part of me, but in a softer way — a more subdued beating, a quieter presence, a different kind of life support.
A different kind of love.
My chest ached with the realization of what I had to do, of the words I had to say, the heart I had to break. Though the snow had cleared and spring was beginning to paint the earth green all around me, I still felt the harsh bite of winter nipping at my heels as I fled from it — from the cold, from the hurt, to a new beginning, to a new me.
Left or right.
It may not have been a simple choice, but I knew with every beat of my severed heart it was the right one.
So, I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned the wheel.
Cameron
In my heart, I always felt that Charlie would come back to me.
Even on the hardest days, on the days when I saw her in his arms, or watched her watching him from across the room, I still believed. That belief was solidified after our weekend away together, and given a little ray of hope again after I told her the truth about Natalia.
But that belief was like a small candle flame, and it had been snuffed last night after the gala.
It wasn’t that I was accepting the fact that she would likely choose to be with Reese, but more that I was preparing for it. I spoke my peace with Reese, letting him know that if she were to choose him, he had better never treat her like less than a queen. I’d also given Charlie a little piece of me — of our family — to take with her, should Reese be her choice. And right now, I was packing up a bag with enough supplies to get me through a week, just in case she walked through that door and told me it wasn’t me she loved anymore.
For all intents and purposes, I was ready.
But I knew I’d never be able to truly let her go.
I could pretend. I could smile for her, bow out and let them be, and try my best to move on with my life. Her happiness was all that mattered to me — and that was something I didn’t have to pretend to believe. It was as true as my belief in God above, and even if it killed me, I would walk out of her life if she told me it would make her happier — that he would make her happier.
After last night, the likelihood that those would be the words she said to me was enough to knock me to my knees.
I’d asked for two months, and truth be told, I wasn’t sure I’d done enough. Even with talking to Patrick, with digging through my dark caves to pull out whatever I could offer, with telling her the truth about Natalia, with reminding her about the life we’d built together — I didn’t know if it was enough.
I’d let Reese get in my head. I’d let him shake me from telling her about Natalia the first time, let him get under my skin at the hospital and again after the gala last night. I should have taken Charlie home, should have spent the evening cherishing her — like it was my last night, or like it was the eve before our new life began.
But I didn’t.
I was flawed, far from perfect, and though I’d done all that I felt I could, I looked back on the months that had passed with the overwhelming want to try again. I wished for a redo button, for an extra life, for a rewind and pause — but I couldn’t have any of those things.
All I could do was trust that smothered belief deep down inside me that felt Charlie would come home to me.
I folded another shirt and tucked it into my suitcase, trying my best to keep my eyes off the clock in our bedroom. It was late, the sun had set hours ago, and I still hadn’t heard from her.
Maybe she won’t come home at all, I thought, but just as it crossed my mind, I heard the front door open and close downstairs.
And then, I felt her.
Charlie’s presence always hit me the way I imagined a drug would hit an addict. Just being in her vicinity had my entire body alert, my senses locked in, my hands and eyes searching for her — wanting her, needing her.
My ears perked up as her feet hit the stairs, and I continued packing, listening to every step. She called my name somewhere down the hall, but I couldn’t answer.
I thought I was ready.
I thought I could do this.
But I couldn’t.
I heard her as much as I felt her step inside our bedroom, but I kept my back to her, stuffing ten pairs of socks into my bag.
She was here. She was standing in our bedroom, in a place where we made love, and I already knew by the energy rolling off of her what she had come to say.
Time was up.
I was too late.
This is where it ends.
Charlie
“Hey,” I breathed, still leaning against the door frame that led into our bedroom.
Cameron’s back was to me, his hands busy organizing the suitcase he had laid out on our bed. It was the same one he’d packed for our honeymoon, the same one he’d packed for our getaway trip back to Garrick.
He paused at the sound of my voice, turning just slightly, enough to offer me his profile. “Hey.”
I’d never felt more like a stranger in my own home.
My hands shook as I crossed to sit on the bed across from where he was packing, and I folded them together once I sat, trying to calm my breaths.
For a while I just watched him as he went from his dresser to the suitcase, back to the closet and then to the suitcase again. Back and forth he went, packing, taking clothing I’d seen him wear for years and fold it away like it’d never be back in this house again.
I didn’t know where to start.
That was the first thing I realized as I sat there watching him, seeing the pain etched on his face, knowing the tension that riddled his slumped shoulders, the same as it did mine. Where were the right words, the ones I needed to say to him? I’d searched for them the entire car ride over, and I’d come up empty-handed.
Maybe it was because there were no right words — not in a situation like this.
Cameron packed while I watched him in silence, finally zipping up the suitcase when everything was inside it. His eyes finally found mine then, the weight of them heavy and dark. He was out of other things to look at, to keep him busy, and now, it was time.
“You’ve been crying,” he said, slowly rounding the bed.
I moved to the side, offering him room to sit beside me, but he just shook his head.
He didn’t even want to sit next to me, and as he tucked his hands into his pockets, I realized his were shaking, too.
I swiped at the dried, mascara-streaked tears on my cheeks. It was no use, I wouldn’t be able to get them off without makeup-remover, but I tried, anyway.
“I have so much I want to say,” I whispered, looking up at him. “I’m not sure where to start.”
Cameron looked so much older in that moment, like God was granting me a glimpse of what he would look like in ten years’ time. I traced every crease that surrounded his eyes, the ones that outlines his lips — though those were fewer. His dark eyes watched me like I held a gun, one pointed straight to his forehead, and he was just waiting for me to pull the trigger.
“My life feels like a carnival ride,” I started. “So many violent twists and turns have happened over the last few months. If you would have told me this would have been my future, if you would have told me at Christmas that any of this would have happened, I would have laughed.” I tried to smile, but couldn’t manage. “I mean, it’s just…”
I shook my head, the words not coming out right. Nothing felt right.
“Will you please just sit with me for a second?” I begged him, sliding over again. “Please?”
Cameron st
ared at the spot next to me like it was a trap, but he forced a breath and did as I asked.
“Thank you,” I breathed, and my eyes fell to where my hands were folded in my lap as I tried again. “You and I, we have a love that I don’t think many people ever experience. The day I married you, I knew I was the luckiest woman in the world to have a man who loved me as fiercely as you did. As you do,” I corrected. “We were so happy, you know?”
I glanced back up at Cameron, and he was staring at my hands, too. He swallowed, waiting for me to continue.
“We built a life together, built this home together,” I said, looking around our room. “We tried to build a family, too. And through all that, we were… perfect. Honestly, we were. And I’m not saying we always have to be perfect, because that’s unrealistic to expect, but… what happened after…”
I ran one of my shaking hands through my hair, tugging it at the ends, as if I could pull the right words out by force.
“We messed up, Cameron,” I said. “Both of us. I should have asked you for what I needed, I should have gone to see someone, to talk to someone, the way you’ve been talking to Patrick. And I should have asked you more about what happened with Natalia,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Cameron interrupted.
“It does,” I argued. “It does, Cameron. I know you feel like you betrayed me, that confiding in her was wrong. And it was. You should have come to me.” I swallowed, waiting for his eyes to meet mine again. “But to me, the real betrayal was that I thought you cheated on me. And though I know you didn’t now, you still kept the truth from me. For years.”
“I didn’t want to make excuses. I—”
“I know,” I said, holding up one hand to stop him. “And I understand, I really do. But you still let me sit in that hurt, in that embarrassment, for years. And you left me,” I choked. “You may have stayed here, in this house, but you weren’t really here. You weren’t present. You didn’t touch me the same, look at me the same, love me the same. The day I caught you with Natalia was the day you walked out on me. You checked out. And I had to grieve alone, rebuild alone.”
What He Always Knew (What He Doesn't Know Duet Book 2) Page 22
