Sobs shudder through her body.
“But you could’ve died,” she says, tears straining her voice. “Every single day I was at that hospital, I thought it was going to be your last. And then when it wasn’t and you pulled through, I still found myself reading it. Weeks, months later, because a part of me felt like I needed to get used to the idea of you being gone. Someday. Because I just knew you were going to leave in one way or another. Just like everybody else.”
“But I didn’t,” I say with desperation and smile a little with it. I sit on the floor and pull her down with me. “I didn’t die. I didn’t because I knew you were there with me the whole time. Because I knew we were meant to be together, and that if you were going to be alive then so was I.”
“But what if you do?” she asks.
I didn’t anticipate that.
“What if the tumor comes back?”
“It won’t,” I say. “And even if it does, I’ll beat it again. Hell, I went eight months without going to the doctor once and I still beat it. With you in my life, whipping my ass to make me go regularly for checkups, there’s no way it could kill me later.”
She doesn’t seem fully convinced of that, but I see a tiny ray of hope in her face and that’s what I wanted to see.
“I really am sorry,” she says, but instead of telling her not to be, I let her have this moment, too, because it feels more like allowing herself some closure. “I bet you never bargained for this kind of crazy baggage.” She wipes her fingers underneath her eyes.
Trying to lighten the mood some, I rub my hands across her bare knees and say, “I’d still love you if you were one of those chicks who runs to the bathroom to gag themselves after they eat, or if you had a secret clown sex fetish.”
She laughs lightly through her tears, and it makes me smile.
I raise her chin with the edge of my finger and get serious again, looking deep into her beautiful watery-blue eyes.
“Camryn,” I say, “Lily just wasn’t ready. I don’t know why, but you can’t blame yourself for her, or for anyone else. And you have to understand that we’re in it together. All of it. Do you believe that?”
She nods. “Yes.”
I lean in and kiss her first on the forehead and then on the lips.
Silence ensues and the atmosphere in the room feels different. Brighter. I know that Camryn isn’t going to be one hundred percent overnight, but I can see that she’s better already. I can tell just by looking at her that she feels less burdened now that she got a lot of that shit off her mind. She needed this. She needed someone to straighten her out. Not someone indifferent, or someone who will only give her the cookie-cutter answers to everything.
She needed me.
I stand up and take her hand. “Come here.”
She follows. I pick up the pill bottle from the table beside the bed and then pull her along with me to the bathroom inside the room. I lift the toilet lid and hand her the bottle. And before I even get a word out, Camryn turns the bottle upside down without hesitation and dumps the remaining four or so pills into the toilet.
“I still can’t believe I was that weak.” She stares at the water as the pills circle it and are sucked into the pipes. She looks over at me. “Andrew, I could’ve easily become addicted to them. I can’t imagine—”
“But you didn’t,” I interrupt before she drills it any further into her head. “And you’re entitled to a moment of weakness. Enough said.”
I walk out of the bathroom and pace the bedroom floor. She follows me out and stands in the center of the room, watching me.
“Andrew?”
I stop and turn to face her and say, “Give me one week.”
She looks slightly confused.
“One week for what?”
I smile faintly. “Just agree to it. Stay here with me for one week.”
Growing more confused by the second, she says, “Ummm, all right. I’ll stay here with you for one week,” though it’s clear in her face that she really has no idea what she’s agreeing to.
But she trusts me and that means everything to me. I’m going to give us what we both need, whether she wants it or not.
Camryn
16
Day Three
I never thought for a minute that I could’ve done what I did. Andrew calls it a moment of weakness and maybe he’s right, but it will take a long damn time for me to forgive myself for it.
Michelle has made it clear that she isn’t judging me, and although it does make me feel better, I feel a sense of humiliation whenever I’m in the same room as her or Aidan. Maybe that’s why it feels so bad, because they’re so understanding.
One week. No idea what Andrew meant by that, but I owe it to him not to ask questions and to let him do whatever it is he plans to do. He’s been very secretive the past few days, often taking his phone calls into other rooms so that I can’t hear. I only tried to listen in once, just by becoming extra quiet on the couch when he stepped into the kitchen to talk to Asher. But then the eavesdropping made me feel guilty, so I turned the TV up so that I couldn’t hear.
And I may have only been taking the pills for a week, but apparently it was long enough to still feel messed up three days after the last few I popped. I feel off, unable to sleep even worse than before I started taking them, but the mild headaches are finally starting to wear off, at least. I can’t imagine being addicted to them for months or years. I feel sorry for people who are…
Day Four
Aidan walks in with a small stack of mail in his hand, sifting through each piece as he walks through the living room.