10 Years Later Page 16

  She can’t be saying what I think she’s saying. This is not happening.

  “What do you mean exactly?” Everything seemed to stand still as I held my breath, waiting for what she would say next.

  “I saw what losing my dad did to my mom and I can’t be in that position. I can’t willingly put myself through this with you.” She pressed her lips together as she swiped away her tears, sitting up a little straighter as she built up a wall against me, pushing me out.

  “But you understand where I’ve been and why I couldn’t call, right?” I reached out, wanting to touch her, to pull her in my arms and kiss some sense into her, but pulled my hand back.

  She nodded, but didn’t meet my eyes. “I do. I’m not mad at you, my brain understands the logic of it all, but you weren’t here. You didn’t see what I went through emotionally. You don’t know how I felt.”

  Cammie tried to explain, but I could see I was losing her. Her body language changed completely as she tried to close herself off from me. I had to keep fighting.

  “I know this is hard for you. I can only imagine what the idea of me getting hurt does to you. But, Cammie, I just got you back. Please don’t ask me to walk away from you again. I don’t think I can do it.”

  She frowned at me, her brows drawing together as if I’d said the stupidest thing ever. “Dalton, I had a freaking panic attack! And that happened because I was worried about you and thought something had happened to you. You not showing up triggered something in me that made me come undone. I can’t live my life like that. I can’t be worried all the time and have to take a bunch of pills to deal with it.”

  Seeing the pain in Cammie’s eyes reminded me so much of how she’d looked after her dad’s death. The vacant dullness had returned, only this time it was because of me. Her expression looked hollowed out, and it sent me back to those dark days when Cammie had first stopped smiling. And it absolutely gutted me to know that I was the cause of her anguish.

  How could I convince her that I’d never leave her; that I’d be okay? In this job, my safety could never be guaranteed, but I refused to lie to her about it. On the other hand, I couldn’t let her go. Not again. Not after reconnecting the way we had. There was a special bond between Cammie and me, something that never quite died with time. It didn’t fade away, lessen, or cease to exist, instead it simmered, waiting for us to come within feet of each other so it could reignite and set us both aflame.

  I was on fire and I refused to burn alone.

  She could attempt to convince herself that she didn’t need me, or this, but I knew in my heart it was a lie. There was no way I could pretend that this connection between us didn’t exist or that I could live without it—or without her. Sure, I could exist without Cammie Carmichael, but that’s all I would be doing . . . existing. I wouldn’t truly be living without her by my side.

  Reaching out, I lifted her chin so she would meet my eyes. “I don’t want to lie to you and tell you that my job isn’t dangerous at times, because it is. But it’s not always like that. What can I say to reassure you? Tell me what to say and I’ll say it.”

  Looking up at me, her eyes wide with fear told me everything I needed to know. Then her words confirmed my suspicions of what prompted her need to pull away from me.

  “All of this terrifies me,” she said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Absolutely terrifies me. I see the cycle repeating, and I don’t want to be incapable of taking care of myself if something happens to you. You know, the way my mother was. ”

  “You’re not your mom,” I said firmly, trying to reassure her and sway her back over to my side. But the truth was that I had no idea how much Cammie was—or wasn’t—like her mom, and she knew it.

  Cammie shook her head wildly. “You weren’t here. You didn’t see me. Ask Kristy when she’s awake. She’ll tell you how not okay I was, and how much I hated myself for feeling that way.”

  “I want to fix this. How can I fix this for us?” I pleaded with her, wanting so badly to take her in my arms. If I thought she’d let me kiss her, I’d do it until all her pain was gone. Not touching her after being away from her was killing me. My hands itched to be touching her body.

  “You can’t,” she admitted, her jaw clenching tightly.

  With that, I knew that her mind was made up. Cold chills raced down my spine as I realized there would be no changing her position on this. At least, not tonight. I’d be damned if I let her walk away like this.

  “I don’t want this lifestyle, Dalton,” she said tersely, her tone convincing enough that it sucked all the air from my lungs.

  Six words from Cammie’s lips were all it took to send fissures straight through my heart. I knew she was scared, but I’d underestimated how deeply my choice of profession would affect her. After all, she’d seemed so fine with it at first. Hell, she probably had been until I had to go and disappear on her without a fucking trace, and now she was pushing me away, just like she had back in high school.

  I let her back then, but I couldn’t let her now. If she truly believed I’d go down without a fight, she didn’t know me at all. This entire conversation reminded me of the last time we’d spoken in high school, giving me an eerie sense of déjà vu . . .

  • • •

  Our entire senior class had headed to Disneyland for Grad Night, and although I didn’t really want to go, I had been convinced by my buddies that it was our last hurrah together before leaving for college. Cammie still wasn’t fucking talking to me, and I still had no idea why.

  The busses were loaded alphabetically, so I wasn’t allowed on Cammie’s bus for the near two-hour drive each way. It pissed me off, because part of my plan to get her to talk to me again included her being in a confined space where she couldn’t run away. I convinced myself that I would be hard to resist for four hours. But that was before the alphabetical shit.

  Once we got to the park, I was cruising through Tomorrowland with my buddies when I spotted Cammie and Kristy walking together toward a food vendor.

  “Guys, I’ll be right back. I wanna talk to Cammie for a second,” I told my friends.

  “Cammie Carmichael? Why?” Russell asked.

  “Because,” I said simply, and he didn’t question me because, well, because we were guys and guys tended not to do that kind of shit.

  Jogging toward her, I saw Kristy notice my approach, and I hoped she wouldn’t tip Cammie off. I touched her shoulder as she stood in line and she turned, startled before realizing it was me. Her eyes didn’t light up the way they had in our photography class, and she leaned away from my hand, putting distance between her body and mine.

  That hurt.

  “Cammie, please talk to me. Go on a ride with me so we can work this out, please,” I begged.

  “Go away,” she said, her voice completely unemotional as it sliced through me.

  “I can’t convince you to go on the cars with me? I’ll let you drive.” I tried to be sweet and make her laugh, but it was apparently the wrong approach.

  “I hate that ride,” she said, and she almost sounded convincing. “Come on, Kristy, let’s go.”

  And just like that, she walked away from me, disappearing from sight into the crowd. I didn’t chase her, go after her, or try again. She turned down my offer and I let her go. Like an idiot.

  I didn’t run into her for the rest of the night, and I didn’t speak to her again before I moved away. And that regret had haunted me ever since.

  Heart Can’t Take Losing Him Too

  Cammie

  Dalton walked out the door, albeit reluctantly, after I told him I didn’t want this lifestyle. I watched the hope fall from his eyes, like I’d punched him in the face with a truth he couldn’t fathom or understand. Closing my front door behind him, I sucked in my resolve, swallowed it whole, and almost woke Kristy up to tell her everything before deciding that it could wait until tomorrow. If I told her now, sleep would probably elude me for the rest of the night, and I desperately needed some rest, pi
ll-free.

  I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, the gravity of my decision weighing heavy on me instead of freeing me like I thought it might. My mind tried to convince me that I had done the right thing, the best thing for my future sanity and well-being, but my heart, my stupid traitorous heart vehemently disagreed. If my heart had hands, it would be punching me from the inside right now, demanding to be let out of its cage so it could duke it out with my brain. Winner take all.

  It was exhausting, having the two most powerful parts of you at odds. I always took it for granted when they were on the same page, perfectly aligned with the same wants and needs. But now, this epic battle of wills going on inside me made me feel like a spectator in my own body. I prayed for clarity in my dreams, but was disappointed.

  Opening my eyes the next morning after a dreamless sleep, I noticed Kristy blinking awake as well. I lay facing her, my knees practically curled all the way up to my chest. “I ended things with Dalton last night.”

  “What the heck are you talking about?” She turned toward me, causing the mattress to dip between us before she shot straight up. “Wait! Did you talk to him? Is he okay? Where was he? Tell me everything!”

  “He showed up here last night.”

  “When? Where the hell was I?” She whined out the last bit, as if she’d missed out on the most exciting thing in years.

  “Sleeping. It was after midnight.”

  “Talk faster,” she said, circling a hand in the air to hurry me up.

  “He had to fly to New York. Something happened with the case he was working on, and apparently his whole squad flew to New York without any notice. He came straight here after he landed.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “That’s a good thing, right? Wait, why didn’t he call you? And why did you end things?”

  “His cell phone was in his car and his partner drove that day. He said his partner never drives,” I said with a small sigh.

  “That makes sense to me. Dalton’s never been a liar. Do you think he’s lying?”

  This was the lawyer side of Kristy, the side where she asked a million questions, all trying to get the answer she looked for. “I don’t think he was lying. I believe him,” I said.

  “Then why end it?”

  Looking away, I bit at my lip. “Because I can’t do this with him. I can’t date a cop.”

  My mom had fallen apart when my dad was killed. The light had vacated her eyes for years before it ever started coming back. She stopped making sure I got up for school, because she wasn’t getting up at all. I was forced to fend for myself for dinner, lunch, and every other meal that we had once shared together as a family. Our family was broken, and my mom seemed convinced it could never be repaired. Essentially, she acted as if I didn’t exist anymore, as if she’d lost me at the same time she’d lost my dad.

  I tried to talk to her through her bedroom door, calling out her name, begging her to come eat with me. But she never stirred, never responded, and never left her room. It was like that for months, to the point where I started to forget that there used to be happiness in our house, and laughter.

  My mom lost something the day my dad was killed, but I didn’t blame her. In fact, it made me realize that I wanted to make sure that I never experienced that kind of pain for myself. And I sure as shit didn’t want it for any kids I might have in the future. There was no way I could date Dalton and not have panic attacks as I constantly feared for his safety.

  “Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” Kristy blinked her eyes before fixing her gaze on me.

  “Really?” My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “You think I’m going overboard?”

  “I think you’re being irrational.” The words slipped from her lips, sounding calm and collected as they pierced me with their sting.

  Hurt and a little pissed off, I demanded, “How the hell am I being irrational? No really, Kristy, explain this to me.”

  “This is Dalton Thomas we’re talking about. The guy you’ve never stopped thinking or caring about for the last ten years. Hell, the guy you’d had a crush on for four years before that. To throw it all away, when he so clearly came here just for you, is not only irrational, it’s irresponsible.” She stared at me triumphantly when she finished, and I suddenly felt like I was witnessing closing arguments in a case I wasn’t aware I was a part of.

  “You think I don’t know all of those things? You think they haven’t crossed my mind? I know what I’m throwing away—”

  “Do you hear yourself? Throwing away!” she yelled at me as she cut me off. “You don’t throw people away, Cammie!”

  I raised my voice to match hers. “I can’t do this with him! I can’t go through what my mom did. If anything happened to Dalton, I couldn’t live through that. Don’t you get it?”

  “Don’t you?” She leveled me with a look of anguish. “Losing Dalton would gut you no matter what. Whether you were with him or not.”

  “It would be worse if we were together. You know that’s true.”

  “We should go see your mom,” Kristy suggested, and I bristled.

  “My mom? Why?” I all but spat out at her.

  “Because she’s the one who has the best perspective on this sort of situation.” Her eyes lit up as she moved to start getting changed out of her pajamas. “And if we don’t go see her now, you’ll stick with this insane decision of yours for way too long, and waste tons of time not being with Dalton when you could have been with him the whole time. Then you’ll be pissed about all the time you wasted, and I don’t want to deal with that.”

  “You just have it all figured out, don’t you?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “You know I do,” she said, her voice muffled as she pulled her top over her head.

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. “You really think my mom will be on your side with this?”

  “I’m not sure. But I definitely think you’re reacting defensively instead of thinking clearly. And I think your mom will agree with my assessment,” she said with a confident smile.

  I gave her a snarling frown I didn’t really feel. “No way. You’re not going to like what she has to say.”

  “I bet I will,” she said as she stuck her tongue out.

  • • •

  Pulling up to my old house overflowed my too-full emotional cup. My mom still lived in the same white house with blue shutters that I’d grown up in, on the same street where I learned how to ride a bike as my dad pretended to hold on to the seat while I begged him not to let me go.

  I remembered looking behind me to see him halfway down the street as I lost my balance and crashed into a parked car . . .

  “You okay, punkin’?” Dad had asked as he ran up to me, pulling my body and my bike up in one swift movement.

  “I can’t believe you let go,” I’d said, trying not to cry as I glared up at him.

  “You didn’t need me to hold on anymore.” He’d smiled and the warmth had melted my little heart. “You did it!” He’d sounded so proud, and it had filled me with joy that could only come from a parent’s words.

  I ran my hand over the roughness of the stucco as Kristy and I stood at the front door, my fingers grazing across the familiar sharp edges. “Did you tell her we were coming?” I asked Kristy, worried that I hadn’t even warned my mom with a text message that we were stopping by.

  “I told her,” she said as she led the way. Kristy opened the front door as if she lived there, walked in, and shouted for my mom.

  Very little in the house had changed over the years, except for the new carpet my mom had put in two years ago. She finally replaced the worn-out blue with a lighter new sand-colored style. It looked really pretty, and complemented the various shades of brown paint on the walls.

  “I’m out here, girls!” My mom’s voice filtered in from somewhere in the backyard, and like we did when we were younger, we both raced toward the sliding glass door, each of us trying to get to her first.

  We stepped ou
tside to find my mom kneeling in her flower garden, a hat covering her shoulder-length brown hair. She was pruning her roses, a job she tried to give me as a kid, but I always hated and complained about doing.

  She pushed off her knees and smiled as she removed her gardening gloves. “Hi, girls.” She greeted us with open arms, and we both squeezed into her embrace. “I’m so glad to see you. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Kristy turned away. “This one needs your help.” She flicked a finger in my direction as my mother cocked a brow.

  “Is that so?”

  “She’s being foolish,” Kristy snapped, and I glared at her from behind my sunglasses, wishing she could see the holes I was burning into her.

  “I am not!” I whined, suddenly feeling like a preteen all over again.

  My mom laughed before directing us inside. “I made sun tea. I’ll pour us some, but let’s talk inside where I can see your faces without squinting.” She swatted at both our backsides, and we scooted through the sliding glass door, out of the blaring sun and into the cool house.

  Hopping onto a bar stool, I rested my elbows on the high-top kitchen table as Kristy did the same. My mom poured us all some tea, then placed some sweetener on the table before sitting down across from us.

  “So,” she said as she removed her hat and ran a hand through her hair, straightening out tangles with her fingers. “Who’s going to go first?”

  Kristy and I started talking over each other before my mom held up a hand, signaling for us to stop. She pointed at Kristy, who immediately blurted, “Well, your daughter’s being an idiot with her heart.”

  I slanted a glare in my best friend’s direction. “Oh my God, really?”

  “She’s been in love with this guy since she was a freshman,” Kristy continued, as if I didn’t pipe up at all.

  “In high school?” Mom asked after she’d sipped at her tea. “This is someone you’ve had feelings for since high school?”

  I averted my eyes, looking down at my drink instead of meeting her gaze, not knowing what to say. I was certain that I’d mentioned Dalton to my mom at some point before Dad died, but that didn’t mean she would remember him.