Yours Truly, Cammie

by S. J. Sylvis

  I loved him.

  I loved Lucas Wells, the United States Marine.

  “JoJo, I’m not going out,” I said, through the phone.

  Ryan was off training in the field for the next week, and JoJo was bored out of her freaking mind. She even pulled the “this can be my bachelorette party” card. Not working. I already had her party planned, even if it was several months away.

  “Why don’t you just come over here and hang out? We’ll have a girls’ night!” Bribery always worked with JoJo.

  I heard her pout, “I wanted to wear my new dress, though.”

  “You can still wear it! We’ll even dance around my living room.”

  I didn’t want to spill the real reason I wasn’t in tune with going out. I was waiting for Luke to reply to an awfully dirty picture I had sent to his email. I liked teasing him like that. It made things more fun.

  With JoJo still rambling on the phone, spouting out all the things I needed to get for the “girls’ night,” I heard a car door slam outside.

  I wasn’t expecting anyone and our street was fairly quiet now that Luke was gone. I pattered over to my living room window that overlooked our street, and my gaze zeroed in on a fancy red jeep…that was parked behind Luke’s Camaro.

  I didn’t see the driver, and wonder combined with confusion had my legs moving in the direction of my front door.

  I knew no one would be going to his place to check on it because I had taken over that job. I started his car engine every week and drove it around the block a few times. I made sure things in his house were okay, and that was basically the extent of it.

  (Okay, I’m lying. I may or may not have taken very scandalous pictures in his bed and sent them to his email.)

  Like I said, email sex. It was kind of our thing.

  JoJo was still rambling, but I cut her off. “JoJo, let me call you back really quick.”

  I hung up through her protests, and threw on a jacket and some boots before letting the cool, late winter air hit my face.

  I peeked around the bare tree limbs in between Luke’s and my porches and got a small glimpse of the person standing at his front door, pounding on it every few seconds.

  My heart dropped, just slightly, when I saw extremely shiny, salon-fixed hair cascading down the back of a very stylishly-dressed woman. I swallowed my curiosity and walked down my steps and over to Luke’s porch. I could only see the back of the woman standing there, but I could already tell that she was pretty. She was tall and slender, except for her hips. She had an hourglass body, evident even through her jeans and huge, fur-trimmed winter coat.

  It’s not that cold, lady.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I asked, standing below the porch.

  The woman swiveled on her feet and my gaze went directly to the giant billboard she was sporting.

  Her belly was as round as a beach ball, peeking out from below her puffy coat. I had been around enough pregnant women in the hospital to know that she was about to burst. I mean, she had to be at least eight months pregnant. And damn her, she still looked fly as hell.

  “Possibly…” she snarled, her eyes traveling down my body and back up to my face like an animal sizing up its prey.

  I felt bold but still slowly crossed my arms over my chest, guarding myself. Preparing for the worst.

  “Do you know where Luke Wells is? He lives here.”

  Uh, yeah. I know, Preggers.

  “I know. He’s my neighbor,” I said, as a matter of fact.

  “Mmm. I see,” she scowled as the words left her mouth, and my heart started to pound faster as each second passed. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I didn’t know who this woman was but the second she turned around and faced me, she gave off a very strong standoffish feel. She walked down the steps and stood right in front of me, and me being the bull-headed woman that I was, I stayed right in my spot.

  I intimidated her right back.

  “Well, could you tell him Ash stopped by? I really need to see him.”

  “And you are…?” Annoyance filtered my voice.

  She smiled coyly. “His wife.”

  Twenty-Two

  Someone get me a fucking resuscitator because I was pretty sure I was on the verge of death. The word “wife” played in my head on repeat the entire hour that I stood in front of Luke’s house.

  His wife, oh wait, let me rephrase that, his pregnant wife, left as soon as she dropped a world-class bomb on me. I continued to stand in the same exact spot on his sidewalk even after JoJo’s car pulled up. I didn’t move. She walked over to me slowly, calling my name, but I stayed put.

  “Seriously, Cammie. What’s going on?” JoJo’s voice was filled with concern, her eyes searching my body and face several times before she snapped her fingers in front of my eyes.

  I finally looked up at her and choked, “He’s married.”

  Her dark eyebrows folded inward. “What?”

  “Luke. He’s married.” My words came out short and blunt. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.

  She said nothing and neither did I. I very well could have been in shock.

  JoJo pulled me back into my house and sat me on the couch. I heard her walk to the kitchen and then the bottle of wine being opened and poured into a glass. As soon as she slid it in front of me, I grabbed the glass stem in a vice grip and downed the entire thing. I didn’t even get to taste the fruity flavor before it landed in my stomach.

  I waited a second before putting the glass on my coffee table, filling the room with a shaky clank. I stood up abruptly and walked into the kitchen, swiping the entire bottle off my counter. When I sat back down on the couch, I turned toward JoJo and finally dropped everything on her.

  I didn’t cry, but I wanted to. I wanted to cry so bad.

  “So, wait. How far along do you think she was?” JoJo sat on the floor below me. Her back was straight and her legs were crossed beneath her.

  I looked away, glancing out the window again to the dreary, grey skies, unable to control the image of Ash flooding my brain. “At least eight months, but I’m thinking nine months. Unless it’s twins. Oh my God.” I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw up or throw something. Maybe do both at the same time.

  “There’s no way it could be his, even if it was twins.”

  I stood up, pacing the room. “How could it not be his?! She’s his wife!”

  “She could be lying, too. Calm down.”

  I yelled, “I can’t! This is why this was an awful idea. I barely know him!” And to think that I love him…

  “Listen, sit down.” JoJo stood up and put her arms on my shoulders, edging me back to the couch. I was pacing so fast that I was literally out of breath. Or it could just be the fact that I was totally out of shape. I’d stopped running once it got cold out. I know, I was a wuss who hated cold weather. Why do you think I lived in a state that barely got cold?

  “It’s not his baby. He was deployed for eight months before coming here.” I bounced my head up and down in agreeance. “Then, he was here for…what? Two months?” I nodded again, trying to do the math.

  I piped up, “That would mean…if he slept with her when he got back, she would only be five-ish months. Even with twins, she couldn’t be that big.”

  JoJo bobbed her head up and down. “Right. So, stop thinking the worst.”

  My chest started to rise and fall faster as I shouted, “What if it’s triplets?!”

  “Cammie! Stop.” JoJo’s loudness made my attention whip to her warm gaze.

  Tears started to threaten my eyes. “He’s married, Jo.”

  My heart felt sad. I felt sad. Everything felt sad. Was this how Eeyore felt all the time? God, that poor, depressed donkey.

  My voice broke, “I know, rationally, it’s probably not his baby. But that doesn’t change the severity of this situation… he’s married.”

  JoJo grabbed my hand and pulled me into a hug. She didn’t let go, and that’s when I finally let the tears fall.

/>   I knew I’d been playing with fire. I just hadn’t realized I was playing with a whole goddamn wildfire.

  * * *

  Luke didn’t email that night or the following day. I bounced ideas back and forth over what I should do. He was there. I was here. Several thousand miles were in between us. Do I confront him in an email? The military daughter and sister in me knew that would be a low blow. It would be like sending a Dear John letter to someone. It was ruthless and downright dirty, but…

  He lied.

  He was married.

  He’d kind of brought it on himself.

  I did something I knew I shouldn’t have, but I did it anyway. I tiptoed into my kitchen and grabbed another bottle of wine, courtesy of JoJo wiping out the entire stock this afternoon at our small grocery store and flipped the lid of my laptop up.

  Once I pulled up my inbox, my heart cracked a little more in my chest. I clenched my molars together, opening the picture of Luke smiling at me in front of that same cave my brother had stood in front of. How could he be so sweet and then this happens?

  I shook my head, preparing myself for a long, tiring night. Isn’t this what we do, as humans, when we’re heartbroken? We just dig ourselves into a deeper hole of hurt in the midst of reminiscing on every little thing that made us happy before the supposed “love of our lives” fucked us over?

  Yep.

  And that was exactly what I was going to do. I was going make sure to spend extra long on my favorite emails from him, mourning our short little love story that apparently did not get to have a very happy ending.

  To: sexynursecam@heta.com

  From: l.Wells.@global.mil.us

  Subject: Do you remember…

  Body:

  That one time…

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.us

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  RE: Subject: Do you remember…

  Body:

  Do I remember what?

  P.S. Did you make it okay?

  P.S.S. How did you even get my email?

  To: sexynursecam@heta.com

  From: l.Wells.@global.mil.us

  RE:RE: Subject: Do you remember…

  Body:

  Do you remember that one time when we walked in on your ex-boyfriend sleeping with a blow-up doll?

  Because I do. And I also remember copping a feel of your ass when you jumped straight off his balcony.

  Hands down, the best part of that night.

  Except the chocolate chips. ; )

  P.S. Yes, I made it. Hot as hell, like always.

  P.S.S. I have my ways, Cammie.

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  Subject: Oopsy

  Body:

  Miss you. No, I don’t remember that one time when we walked in on my ex-boyfriend with a boll-up doll. What kind of things are you imagining over there?

  Work sucked tonight.

  P.S. I wrecked your car. Oops.

  To: sexynursecam@heta.com

  From: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  RE: Subject: Oopsy

  Body:

  I’ve been imagining all sorts of stuff…

  You miss me? Does that mean you like-like me still?

  Work sucks here, too. Why did work suck? Tell me about it.

  P.S. Nice try. I know you better than that.

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  RE:RE: Subject: Oopsy

  Body:

  Do I still like-like you? *shrugs* You’ll just have to find out when you come home… ; )

  Work was a shit show. Literally. I got shit on while preparing to put a catheter into an elderly patient. But it ended up being a huge, celebratory, throw-a-party type of moment because that meant progress for him! Yay for shitting!

  By the way, how are the restrooms over there? Alex complained about them in every single email to me when he was there. Whenever you find yourself complaining about the smell, just think about the fact that I LITERALLY had shit on my arm.

  P.S.S.S. I really did wreck your car. She only has a few scratches…

  To: sexynursecam@heta.com

  From: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  Subject: Enough about shit…

  Body:

  Every single guy laughed their ass off when I told them that you got shit on. They also messed with me and asked if I had received any sexy pictures of you in a nurse’s outfit?

  ….What do ya say, Doc?

  I’m already picturing it…

  P.S.S.S.S. Stop lying to me, Cammie. I know you didn’t wreck it. YOU BETTER NOT HAVE. I will make my mom drive up there and check on it.

  I swear to God.

  Then you would have to hide because she wants to meet you.

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  RE: Subject: Enough about shit…

  Body:

  Does that mean you told your mom about me? I feel so special. This definitely means you like-like me a lot.

  Sexy-nurse pic? Hmmm…. I’ll think about it. ; )

  Your last email took a while, are things bad over there? Lots of blackouts?

  I may or may not be worrying.

  XO

  To: sexynursecam@heta.com

  From: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  Subject: Sexy nurse pic, now

  Body:

  Things are rough. Sorry that it’s been taking me so long. Just know that I look forward to your emails more than I have looked forward to anything ever in my life.

  Even Santa.

  I definitely like-like you… more than a lot.

  I’m still waiting on that pic… my imagination resources are limited when it comes to you. I’ve only been inside you a few times. I need more.

  Ps. Did you really XO me? It may or may not have given me a boner.

  I wish I could send you an eggplant emoji in return.

  To l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  Subject: It’s been awhile

  Body:

  I miss your egotistical ways.

  To: sexynursecam@heta.com

  From: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  Body:

  I miss your sass.

  Sorry it’s been long, lots of blackouts. Not a whole lotta downtime.

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  Body:

  I miss your ass.

  Ha, I made a rhyme.

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  Subject: Because times are rough…

  Body:

  *Attachment*

  Hope this helps. Maybe I’ll take my next picture in a sexy nurse’s outfit like you requested. ; ) You’ll just have to see!

  I miss you.

  XO + eggplant emoji

  To: sexynursecam@heta.com

  From: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  Subject: BONER

  Body:

  Marry me.

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  Subject: Thinking about it

  Body:

  I want some flowers or something romantic…and a ring. Then MAYBE I’ll consider being your wife… ; )

  P.S. Sunflowers are my favorite.

  “Ouch,” I muttered, hand clutching the wine bottle. Just like that, I was sunken into an even deeper state of heartbreak. Probably the worst heartbreak that I had ever felt in my entire life.

  My computer cursor hovered over the “Delete all” button and I gulped down the last of my merlot. Tears streamed down my face and fell onto my keyboard.

  I wonder if he got his current wife sunflowers when he proposed? I wonder how happy they were…

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him! I slammed my finger down, hearing the click on my mouse, and just like that half my heart was destroyed and emptied from
my inbox.

  It shouldn’t hurt this bad. I only knew him for two months, and the rest of our relationship was formed through small emails.

  But did love have a time limit? Was there a certain boundary on when you could fall in love with someone and how hurt you could allow yourself to be after it crumbled? I’m thinking right about now that the answer is a hard no.

  Time didn’t matter when it had to do with love.

  Which was why the next thing I did stung even more. Through my drunken, depressed mood, I pulled up one last email to Luke. I typed the six words quickly, pounding each letter with increasing anger as it took hold of my body.

  To: l.Wells.@global.mil.net

  From: sexynursecam@heta.com

  No Subject

  Body:

  I met your pregnant wife today.

  Yours Truly,

  Cammie

  After I hit send, I deleted my entire email account. I won’t be needing those Victoria’s Secret coupons, anyway.

  Twenty-Three

  The sun coming through the windows blinded me as I peeled my eyes open.

  “Gah,” I murmured in my drowsy voice, closing my eyes again. Then came the piercing cries from a distance, and my eyes sprang open quickly. For a second, I just let myself lay in the same twin-sized bed that I had been inhabiting for the last two days. I pulled the yellow quilt up to my neck and inhaled the scent of fresh laundry detergent while scanning my eyes around the guest bedroom at my father’s.

  The room was bright with its pale walls and yellow accents. The windows had thin, white sheers hanging down, still allowing the California sunshine to pour through and there were the daintiest watercolor paintings lining the far wall.