Coincidentally Kismet

33. Cam

CHAPTER 33

CAM

“I CAN DO IT WITH A brOKEN HEART” - TAYLOR SWIFT

E lliott—the perfect companion to any breakup, the shoulder I’ve cried on literally my entire life, and also the one single solitary person who gets me, all of me. I don’t have to edit myself to present some perfect version; he meets me where I am, figuratively and literally, no matter what.

I won’t claim he always reserves judgment, because let’s be honest, if your siblings don’t offer up some much-needed harsh reality checks at times, then who will. I heard once that your siblings are the most important people in your life because you have them the longest. Your parents eventually die—I know, cold but true—and your significant other comes too late, often missing the first twenty plus years of your life.

For me, Elliott is the one true constant. Sure, he’s busy a lot of the time, but when it really counts, he shows up. Like now. He didn’t even know this thing with Will was about to blow up, but he came anyway. Originally, he came for selfish reasons. His idiot ex cheated on him and he needed to nurse his own heartbreak, yet instead of wallowing he chose to spend time with me. He picked me when he could have gone a million other places. He showed up to a place where he anticipated being surrounded by disgustingly happy people, because those people included me.

I’m not an expert on soulmates, but I believe your siblings can be a sort of soulmate. For sure, the one person you’re most tightly bonded with, the ride-or-die kind.

Despite his own broken heart, my brother’s been the only thing holding me together the past three days. Showering, leaving my house, and eating are things he has thrust upon me against my will. A small, maybe microscopic, part of me is thankful.

Daveed gave me the week off to “get my adorable head on straight,” which was mildly offensive and also extremely generous. Being relieved from the salon is lifesaving; dealing with people right now would be the emotional equivalent to nails on a chalkboard.

I still can’t believe Will left without saying a word. Trusting in what we had wasn’t easy for me and he knew that. Past experience told me not to fall for him a second time around, and yet head over heels I went.

Why is it always like this with love? You go about life minding your own business and then—boom. Out of nowhere, Cupid hits you with his arrow, and all sense of self-preservation flies out the window. I freaking knew better! Now I’m left with nothing, no explanation, no air in my lungs, struggling to breathe without him.

It’s safe to say I’m equal parts sad and angry. Sad because it felt different this time, more mature. It felt like this could be the forever kind of love I’ve longed for. Angry because it’s just plain rude. Leaving for deployment without a goodbye is the ultimate form of ghosting, I’ve decided.

Gossip magazines should make a whole section on the best ways to ghost someone. This would top every list because you can’t even do the crazy ex thing and drive past their house or haunt their favorite bar. He’s just gone—totally and completely off the grid.

On top of all this, part of me feels like a shitty sister. Elliott came for his own escape of sorts. He finally dumps the no-good girlfriend, and he has to come here to deal with my sad-sack ass. Taking him out would make us both feel better, I’m just not sure I can make it more than twenty minutes without a complete breakdown.

To top it off, Bri’s been calling me nonstop. I didn’t know it was her at first. But a slew of text messages confirmed it since I inevitably lost the business card she gave me. Answering her calls and pouring my pitiful loss out to her seems selfish. What kind of person would I be if I complained to the widow about being dumped? Logically, ignoring her forever isn’t an option, since Lo is likely to still see her when Smith returns. But I need more time to lick my wounds.

“Hey, how’s my favorite roomie doing?” Lo asks as she plops herself entirely too close for comfort on my bed.

“Ughhh . . . just go away.” I shove at her to move.

“No! You need to get your ass up. I know you’re heartbroken, and, trust me, I will be the first in line to kick Will’s ass when the guys get back, but enough wallowing. I know you’re not going to let a man get you down like this. You are beautiful and smart and this is his loss.”

Doesn’t she know that my heart isn’t mine anymore? Will ripped it out of my chest and took it to God knows where, strapped on his freaking back like an afterthought.

“Lo, seriously? How would you feel if you were me?”

“I’d be sad but more furious than anything. I’d get my butt out of bed and hit the bar. You need to drink like a fish and flaunt everything you got until the name Will is just someone you used to know.”

“You would not do that, and we both know it.” I give her my sternest look; she’s being a complete hypocrite right now. “You would cry and wallow for weeks and then one day be miraculously all better and ready to make out with any available stunner on girls’ night out.”

“Okay, fine...” Her hands are in the air in surrender. “You’re right! The difference is that in this case, you don’t even know if he actually dumped you. For all we know, something came up and he couldn’t contact you. Crazy things happen every day, Cameron. Also, there’s Elliott . . .he’s only here for two more days, and I gotta be honest, I’m tired of being the head of the entertainment committee.”

Groaning and rolling over, I give her a very muffled and defiant, “Fiiineee...give me an hour and tell him to get ready.”

“Will do, princess,” she says, slapping me on the backside and hopping off my bed.

Fucking fantastic! Now I have to pull it together, think of something fun to do, and probably get drunk. At least the last part sounds somewhat appealing.

“Okkaaay...just lemme get this straight. She told you she was going on a trip with a friend from college and instead actually went on a romantic getaway with another dude?” Lo recaps Elliott’s miserable breakup loud enough for the entire bar to hear.

“Ugh, yes. Keep your voice down.” Hanging his head in his hands, my brother confirms what we both already know to be true.

“What in the actual fuck is wrong with people?” Lo’s face is full of disgust as she seeks out our waitress.

We decided to come to Castaway Bay because it felt timely with Elliott and me so recently being “castaway.” Pathetic we may be, but we’re also taking this self-pity tour seriously, really leaning into the pain.

Stunned is not the right word for what I feel about all my brother has been through. He’s a goddamn walking male model, with the kindest heart. How dare he get cheated on. It’s unconscionable.

“Please, tell me what...her...excuse...was. I mean, other than being the biggest idiot on the planet,” I chime in between big gulps of icy-cold draft beer. Not my usual go-to, but at this rate anything will do.

“You know, I didn’t even give her a chance to give me one. I just told her to get her shit out and not to be at my place when I got home.”

“Go you. I wish I coulda told Will to get his shit. Except we didn’t even live together, so there was no shit to get,” I say pitifully, laying my head down to feel the table’s cool rough wood on my cheek. Tears roll silently down my face for what feels like the millionth time since we left the house. It’s honestly a bit disturbing how much water I’ve lost from sheer crying at this point.

“Alright, nope.” Lo slides her hand under my head, gently peeling me off the table. “I’ve seen and heard enough of this. Both of you, God, like two freaking peas in a pitiful pod. Can we get mad now? I’m ordering shots, and for each one we drink, we are going to toast something horrible and mean until you either feel better or get alcohol poisoning. Whichever comes first is fine by me.”

Our waiter, Linda, the most adorable little thing, sashays her way to our table at Lo’s summoning. “Can I get you anything else? My shift is almost up, so I can cash you out or transfer your ticket to the new girl coming on.”

“You can transfer it, beautiful. This is for you.” Elliott hands her a hundred-dollar bill and winks. Bleh! Heartbroken and yet still able to turn the waitress into a puddle of emotions with a generous tip and a wink. It’s disgusting.

“Okay, Rico Suave, let’s not spend all our money in one place,” Lo chastises.

“What? You wanted me to feel better, didn’t you?” he asks, acting innocent.

“Sure...but you’re sleeping on the couch. I refuse to sip coffee with some rando in my living room. Keep it in your pants for a couple more days, please,” she says with a mixture of stern mom face and pride.

We all bust into a fit of giggles. I’m talking the full belly laughs that hurt your stomach and make your cheeks feel like they are so strained they might pop right off. Excusing myself, I head to the bathroom to wipe my face, do my business, and mentally prepare my insult toasts.

It’s actually a nice bathroom for such a small beach bar. I take a couple extra minutes in the stall to deep breathe, desperately attempting to pull myself together enough to be fun for a few more hours. Reaching for the latch, awareness settles in my stomach like a sinking ship. I’m not sure exactly how I know or what instinct is set in motion, but I can feel a confrontation brewing deep in my bones.

Another deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, then I pull the stall door open and—bam! Bri is standing at the sink, washing her hands. Shame lurches inside me, clawing at my throat. I’ve been purposely avoiding her, but there is only one exit and I know she sees me.

“Cam, oh my gosh. Thank God I ran into you.” She quickly dries her hands before sweeping me into a hug. I can’t stop the sob that bellows out of me or the tears that flow freely down my cheeks. It’s official: If I don’t die from alcohol poisoning, it’ll be from dehydration.

“Oh honey, don’t cry. I’m sure he’s fine. Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

Does she not know? Wait, how could she know? I haven’t answered her, and Lo doesn’t have her number. She thinks I’m crying with worry or fear, not heartbreak.

“Uh, um, I’m not, he’s not...I’m sure he’s fine. Not that it’s my place to know.” I stutter out the response, not knowing what else to say.

Bri pulls back from our hug and grabs my face, placing both hands firmly on my cheeks. “Cam, Will loves you.”

“Thanks, but no, he doesn’t.” I close my eyes and suck in air through my nose, willing my body to keep it together.

“Yes, he really, really does. I’ve been trying to contact you for days. Cam, he tried calling you. There was a whole mess when they left. Ruiz didn’t answer the call, and Will had to find him. He ran out of time, but when I heard they were leaving, I went to the air strip to wish them well, for Thatch. Will used my phone because they put his phone in lockup, but you didn’t answer. He made me promise to tell you that he loves you, that you are his life. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you over text, it just felt like something that needed to be said in person.”

All I can do is stare at her. This can’t be happening. She is saying the words, but it’s like they’re bouncing around in my brain, making me more jumbled and confused.

The door bursts open and in rushes Lo, frantic. “Oh, thank fuck. I thought you died in here or ran out the back and ditched us,” she belts out. “Wait...what...what’s happening right now?” she asks, finally noticing Bri, who’s still holding my face in her hands.

“I’m telling her that Will is in love with her.”

“Ohhh so you don’t know what he did then. Okay, umm, sooo ...” Lo begins, stuttering out her words.

Bri releases her hand from my face and holds it up to stop Lo from talking.

“I know the real story. What happened and why he was so delayed in calling her.” She proceeds to recant the whole ordeal to Lo, hitting me a second time with the details.

Numb, happy, worried, nauseous—all the feelings are coursing through my veins. Could what Bri’s telling me be true? If I believe this, will it all come crashing down when Will comes home and tells me he didn’t mean any of it?

“I told you something probably came up. I knew it in my bones that he didn’t actually dump you.” Lo smugly crosses her arms and juts out her hip.

“Yeah, okay, Miss I’m-Going-to-Be-First-in-Line-to-Kick-His-Ass,” I say on an eye roll. “Bri, I appreciate you trying to cover for him, but I didn’t have any missed calls from you the day he left. He never called, even if he told you he did,” I explain. None of what she’s saying makes sense.

I’m certain I didn’t have any missed calls from her that day. I looked through my call log a dozen times, and there was only that one missed from a telemarketer.

“That can’t be right, honey. I saw him call, he was frantic. Check your phone again.” She’s adamant about this, but it doesn’t make any sense.

Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I open the call log and start scrolling through it just to appease her. In place of the telemarketing number is Bri’s name. I gasp. What the hell—ohhh. I programmed her number later the next day after she texted begging me to call her back.

Can this really be happening? Did he actually call me and I missed it? Are we not broken up? Acid burns my throat. My stomach churns, turning me pale and clammy. Every ounce of my being is in love with this man. It hurts to breathe without him. Believing he dumped me was less painful than knowing he wanted to say goodbye and couldn’t.

I feel cheated, robbed, like I worked hard and won the prize, but it was given to someone else on a technicality. How am I supposed to reconcile the fear and love—and my shame from so easily mistrusting him? How will he react when he finds out I didn’t have faith in us when it really mattered?

Shaking me from my thoughts, Lo asks, “You ready to get back out there before Elliott falls in love with a server?”

“Yeah, yup...let’s do it.” I plaster on a fake smile trying to sound peppy but convincing no one that my world wasn’t just rocked again for the second time in a matter of days.

Lo invites Bri to hang out with us, stating that maybe her beautiful face will cheer up Elliott and that this is the best night of her life since maybe we will get to have a besties double wedding after all. I remain confused and cautious. Aching for Will to love me and him actually doing it are two very different things. All the evidence is there, and I know now that Bri has been trying to contact me, so why do I feel like I’m waiting to wake up and find out it’s all a dream? Is being in love really just being on edge forever with fear of what could go wrong?