by Kate Stewart
It was in that moment that I felt convinced Abbie had done the same thing for me. She’d wiped years of debris away from me and cleansed me with her love and by doing so freed me from the disappointment and loss. And I rewarded her by betraying her trust.
But maybe, there was a way for us to just . . . move on. Maybe with the right perspective, we could remain free of what tainted us, of the lies we told ourselves and each other and just let it go. With Abbie, I could. I had. I knew it was possible. If she could just look at me the way she did before. And maybe, the power to do that was in an act as basic as washing it away from view. That was how we started.
For the first time in my adult life, I appreciated the rain because Abbie was my rain. She embodied hope for me.
“My mother is a genius behind the camera,” she spoke up behind me. I clenched my fists trying to keep my emotions in check.
“Somehow she managed to capture that picture with a broken leg. She was fifty and had taken that trip for her birthday. It’s ironic, isn’t it? She survived one of the worst Tsunamis in history and was there at that exact moment to take this picture and share it with the world. She told me that when she saw this boy washing this elephant it helped a lot to erase all the horrible things she’d seen as a career photo-journalist. That it renewed her sense of humanity when she needed it most. She’d almost given up. She’s insanely gifted and raised Oliver and I to believe we could be just as extraordinary as she is, but I’m not. I’m just not. Oliver’s a brilliant doctor with a sub-par bedside manner. In short, he’s a bit of a dick.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“He’s good at being a doctor. That’s true of him. But I’ve been looking for something to be good at my whole life. Cameron,” she whispered, her voice on a plea, “please look at me.”
My body flushed with a mix of nerves and emotion when he didn’t move. But I pressed on, too afraid to stop. It occurred to me then, that in all our conversations Cameron had never said a word to indicate his childhood was anything but typical, if not wholesome, and something resembling the norm. His mother was on a high pedestal, and he respected and loved his father.
We had that in common.
Never in my wildest dreams did addiction and abuse factor into the life Cameron had lived or the one we shared. It was so far removed from who we were as a couple. It was the kind of thing that happened to other people, much like what happened between Luke and me.
I felt sick as I studied his tall form and not for one second could I believe he was a battered husband, it was unfathomable. In the strength he showed, in how he cared for me, it was inconceivable. But the reality was, he was. I needed to somehow break through, to show him it was okay to be both men with me. The one who could show strength and weakness, and to let him know I would love him the same no matter what.
“I’m nothing special and I’m okay with that. It’s like with Bree and all her talents. I’ve always tried to adapt to some of her ways to make myself more interesting, to be a little more adventurous. Learn to belly dance like her or go on one of her safari’s, but that’s Bree. That’s part of her allure. Me, well I study crazy human behavior, eat dinner regularly with an eighty-six-year-old and count numbers for a living. My kind of exciting is so lame that I have a hard time explaining myself to others. But not you. I never had to explain myself to you.” He stood statue-still as I spoke to his back.
“I can count.” My voice cracked as I choked on a threatening sob. “I can tell you how many cups of coffee we’ve shared. Fifty-six. Or how many times you told me I was beautiful. Twenty-two times you’ve said that to me, twenty-two times that you’ve made me feel like heaven existed on earth. I can tell you how many times you’ve kissed me and taken my body, and I promise you, it wasn’t nearly enough. Twice you told me you loved me,” I was crying quietly at his back. “And both times I felt like I could be myself and nothing else and that was enough for you. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”
My tears fell freely as I stood with my heart bleeding and held it out to him. He gave me nothing, not a word or a single movement, but that didn’t keep me from fighting.
“I’ve only made one promise to you, so I had to keep it. But I wanted to make it clear about what I aspire to be, and what I’m not. What I may never be. But I know special when I see it. And you have it. Whatever it is that makes a person . . . more. I won’t win the Pulitzer and I can’t belly dance, but I can do something so much better than any woman alive. I can love you.” He flinched as my voice cracked. “And I can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I’ll show up for you. I’ll be there every time you need me. I’ll be your best friend. I can love you, Cameron. You are the thing I’m good at. You. Being yours. And I swear to God I will never lay a hand on you in anger, ever again.”
People began to filter through the exhibit, so I took a breath and collected myself. I barely heard him when he finally spoke.
“Who told you?”
“She did.”
His shoulders fell, and he hung his head.
“You should know, she just left my house, I texted you to meet me before she came to my door. Me being here and asking you has little to do with her confession.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Abbie, that’s not what I want.”
“I don’t. Okay, that’s a lie, I do. But I can’t stop those feelings. Any feelings when it comes to you. And I don’t want to. Cameron, please look at me.”
His voice was a whisper. “Forgive—”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying—”
“No,” he turned around with unshed tears in his eyes. “Forgive me. How can you forgive me for fucking up something so perfect because I selfishly let it happen between us? But how could I . . . ” he choked on his emotion.
“How could I tell you that I could be the man for you Abbie and the truth? I wasn’t enough to save my marriage. I got selfish, I gave up. I stopped loving her and I started loving you and I don’t regret it. But I let her destroy herself because I was tired of trying. I wanted to move on without her. I hated her, Abbie. I still hate her. How can you feel anything for me?”
“I feel more for you because of it. I want more for you. How can that be wrong? And if there’s a little pity involved, then I’m sorry, you’ll have to deal with being vulnerable like I have to deal with your dishonesty.”
He looked around us and lowered his voice as a couple passed by sensing our tension. “I was going to tell you everything. That night.”
“It was too late. And instead of believing the best in you, I hurt you in a way you may not be able to forgive me for. But even if some part of me thought the worst and acted, my heart won’t ever let me forget I chose you and it’s not because you’re the perfect man.”
Tumultuous oceans of green swept my face.
“But just so you know, you and me, we are absolute.”
He closed his eyes tightly and two thin tears streamed down his face and stole my breath. It was wrong, it looked all wrong on him. This wasn’t the carefree man I fell in love with who had the strength of mountains that at that moment resided on his shoulders. The need to fly to him was unbearable as I kept where I was standing.
I took a step forward as he gazed down at me with desperation. “I just want us back, Cameron. I’m choosing to believe you. If that makes me a fool or susceptible to an outsider’s eyes, then let me be those things. But I couldn’t give a damn what anyone thinks. Stupid, naïve, whatever, I don’t believe it of myself and I don’t believe the secrets you hid taint you. I do know you, Cameron, maybe not every detail of your failed marriage or trivial things that really won’t change our relationship one way or another, but I know you and I love you.”
“Abbie—” His voice was thick, agony laced and matched the ache in my chest. I was shaking with need to touch him, to fly into his arms and erase the days without him. I hated myself in that moment for missing a single minute, but I wasn’t solely responsible.
�
�I want us back. But I deserve the man who pursued me with good intentions and an open heart. I deserve him because that’s the man I want to love. If there’s any left of him inside you, that’s the man I’m waiting for. He didn’t want to give up and I don’t want him to either, because he makes me happy, so incredibly happy. He makes my life so much better, he knows me. You ask me how I can forgive you? Ask my heart who refuses to let me hold this grudge. I love you too much. I choose happiness over bitterness, now over then, always with you. Always. I don’t want to be without you, ever. We all die at zero, Cameron if we’re alone, we all end up at zero. There is no point in keeping score.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I know,” I said my voice laced with ache. “Please,” I said on a whisper, “please don’t take too long.”
I walked away then because it would be far too easy to fling myself at him and beg him to love me, because he would. He would take me into him and feed my need, because he loved me enough to do so.
But I wanted him to walk into the rest of our relationship with the open heart that he was when I met him. It was my own selfish condition.
With Cameron, I was playing for keeps.
Peering through my reflection of the coffee shop window, I saw her sitting at her table. Her dark-red locks swept over her shoulder as she sucked on her full bottom lip—a habit I loved—while she typed.
“Hey, Cameron,” Bennie spoke up as I eyed her through the glass. “See something good in there?”
I mustered a grin. “Where did you come from?”
“I’m everywhere. Been seeing you a lot less lately. You finally done sucking on that bottle and if so why didn’t you just bring it here to me?”
We grinned at each other. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You smelled worse than me.”
I pulled out my wallet and he waved me off. “I’m good.”
“Abbie?”
“She took care of me. She’s good people.” Bennie stood. “I’ll be seeing you around?”
I looked back into the coffee shop. “I hope so.”
“I have a good feeling you two gonna be alright. You take care of her.”
“Thanks, Bennie, I will,” I said absently, still focused on Abbie when the bell on the door rang out beside me. Swallowing my fears, I grabbed the handle before it closed and took a step inside.
Standing in front of a wall of cups, I took my time. I had so much to say, but I knew it couldn’t be conveyed with a fucking Hallmark slogan. I needed her to know I was there as the man that met her. The man who wanted to merge my life with hers. Without a doubt, I wanted her to know she came first, not my pride or my selfish needs. And once I did tell her I wanted her to know I would respect her decision.
Everything that had happened between us up until the point our weaknesses collided had coincided with the needs of my heart. But regardless of the words she spoke at the museum, about not knowing about the truth, I wanted to tell her. Not because I wanted her sympathy, because I had it and I hated it. But because she deserved the truth. And I was a slave to my love.
It may have started out with me and my selfish haze, for my need to believe in something better for myself, but she would always come first.
I’d made a mistake with the original woman I’d promised forever to.
I’d damn near made the same mistake again with the rightful woman who deserved that promise.
I needed to grow the fuck up and it was time to break the pattern no matter the outcome.
I chose my cup and walked to the small booth across from the macaroni table. Abbie sat typing away, earphones in as she moved subtly with the beat of her music. I knew the second she became aware of me when she froze, and her eyes found mine while I took my seat and opened my Mac.
In her bright blue eyes, I saw a mix of relief and fear. I kept her gaze as I typed with my heart in my throat.
Cameron’s Mac: Hi.
She bit her lip, her chin wobbling as she typed back.
Abbie’s Mac: Hi.
Tears filled her eyes and fell, and it took everything in me not to go to her.
Cameron’s Mac: Please don’t cry.
Abbie’s Mac: I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I’m afraid.
Cameron’s Mac: Don’t be afraid. Please don’t be afraid of me.
Abbie’s Mac: I’m not afraid of you.
We held our gaze for a good minute as her tears fell.
Cameron’s Mac: I love you. No matter what. You know that, right? Nothing can take the time we had away from us. Nothing could ever touch that. Okay?
Abbie’s Mac: Okay.
There was no way to go into it lightly. This was the heavy we’d avoided for far too long. I wasn’t wasting any more time.
Cameron’s Mac: Kat was a gymnast when she was young. Did she tell you that?”
Abbie nodded, and I had to rip my eyes away to keep going.
Cameron’s Mac: She had a bulging disk and for years she was in constant pain. After she finally had to have surgery, she got hooked on the pain meds and became an addict. Her addiction stemmed from nowhere. At least that’s what I thought. Before the surgery we had a decent marriage and a good life. We wanted for nothing and were talking about having our first child. I can’t say that our marriage was blissful because I know what that feels like now, with you. But at the time I wouldn’t have second guessed it. Looking back, maybe she was unhappy because the drugs seemed to fill up something I couldn’t. At first, she tried to hide it from me. And then when she stopped trying to conceal her addiction, everything changed.
Abbie nodded at me in encouragement.
Cameron’s Mac: The first time I confronted her was the first time she lashed out.
Abbie nodded and wiped her face as she looked at her screen. I knew she was afraid I would see the pity in her eyes. But all I wanted was understanding.
Cameron’s Mac: I tried everything I could. She did not want my help and made it clear she didn’t want to get clean. I finally gave an ultimatum and kept it by leaving her. She never did anything to bridge the gap on her end. I didn’t stop trying to help her when I left, and she didn’t stop destroying herself. I would catch her seeking all over the worst parts of the city. I froze her credit cards, I kept tabs on her twenty-four seven. I damn near lost my business following my wife all over Chicago to get prescription drugs. She was a functioning addict, so no one was concerned, not even her father who I tried repeatedly to get through to. It was a fucking nightmare. One morning I woke up and all we had left in common was her addiction. We hadn’t been physical in the whole year before I left.
Abbie’s Mac: Did she do it a lot?
Cameron’s Mac: Too often to talk about comfortably. I think I was mostly in shock. She was nothing like the woman I married and I’d never dealt with anything like that before. A few fights when I was younger. I went to see a therapist and Kat refused.
Abbie nodded as if she already knew. I had no idea what my ex-wife told her.
Cameron’s Mac: I honestly don’t know if it was all because of the drugs now that I look back. For the most part, she had a shitty temper but never lashed out like that. I think her father knows something more about that and they both never shared it with me. The night you found out, I handed her fate over to him. I wanted to be free of her, so I could be with you. Selfish, yes. Every single minute. I left my wife a drug addict to save my own life. To find another reason to be happy, to find you. I was tired of living in her nightmare. I sacrificed her well-being for my own.
Abbie’s Mac: That’s not true Cameron.
Cameron’s Mac: It is. In sickness and in health. She got sick and I only spent a year trying to help her before I left. I can’t say I wouldn’t do it the same way again. That’s the truth.
I swallowed.
Cameron’s Mac: In a way I think I knew this, us, would blow up in my face. In some idiotic way I think I deserved it. I should have felt guilty for being as happy as I was with you when she still str
uggled with her addiction. I couldn’t blame you now, if you couldn’t trust me. And I don’t know how to move forward from this. I never wanted you to know. I’m almost certain I would have kept that from you. Probably. I think. Fuck, I don’t know if that’s the truth. But I never should have lied to you about the fact I was still married.
Her breath left her as she read and re-read my words shaking her head.
Abbie’s Mac: No.
Cameron’s Mac: You had every right to be angry. I’m the bad guy, Abbie. In this scenario, I am the bad guy.
She shook her head refusing to believe me.
Cameron’s Mac: This time I am. This round I was the one who was in denial and it paved my way into your heart and into your bed.
I saw her face pale as she shook her head adamantly.
Cameron’s Mac: Yes. I hid behind your rules, so I had a shot with you. I did all of these things. But loving you was never a lie.
Abbie’s Mac: You would never purposefully hurt me.
Cameron’s Mac: I did hurt you, I scared you. That night, at your house I scared you.
Abbie’s Mac: You would never hurt me.
Cameron’s Mac: I did. And I did it by trying to save myself.
“This is bullshit,” she said as she closed her Mac and shoved it in her tote. She wiped at her face with her hands stained with dark streaks I’d caused and met my gaze head on as she gathered her things and walked out of the coffee shop.
Stunned, I scrambled after her. “Abbie,” I caught up with her a few steps out of the café. “Abbie! Damn it! This is happening. We’re doing this.” She walked forward and I caught her by the arm. “I mean it. I’m not going anywhere. Just tell me what you want.”
She turned on me.
“Oh, this is happening? Really, Cameron? Are you sure about that?”
I stared at her in confusion as she looked up at me with contempt. “I don’t think you know what this is.”
“What are you saying?”