Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
DECLAN
Thursday 8:15 a.m.
Me
Does it make me a simp for saying these past few nights without you feels like it's been months?
I miss you, Mama.
Andy
Absolutely, but I love that you miss me. I miss you too.
Me
Our first show is tonight.
Two weeks, I'll be back with you and Max.
Andy
We can't wait.
How'd you sleep?
Me
Like shit. I'm going to see Camille today. We're meeting up before I head to rehearsal, and my anxiety is high.
Andy
You got this, baby. Be honest and let her know how sorry you are.
Me
Sorry doesn't begin to describe what I feel. I don't deserve her forgiveness, and I know I won't get it. I'm not looking for forgiveness, either.
Andy
Tell her that. Let her know why you're telling her what happened years later.
Me
I'm scared. Wish you were here with me.
Andy
Me too, baby. Call me if you need me.
Me
You're everything to me, Andy. All of my tomorrows belong to you.
Andy
Mine too.
Seattle.
The city I've been fucking dreading.
It's been years since I've been back here—since my divorce.
The city is as toxic to me as New York. Filled with memories and all the people I let down.
As if fate wanted to fuck me, Seattle is the first city we're stopping in. We'll be here a few more days before moving on to the next.
I've been dreading this day since I knew it had to happen. Always known it was inevitable, and many times over the years, I'd planned to tell Camille but was always too fucking weak. Too much of a coward to confess my sins to the woman I spent four years married to.
The woman who will forever be one of my best friends and have a special place in my life because of the bond we share. Camille will forever have a piece of my soul.
As much as I love her, I'm about to break her heart and destroy the relationship we've been building since the day we divorced.
I'm going to destroy everything… it's what I do.
When we arrived in Seattle on Monday night, Damon, Cole, and Adam had already booked us a penthouse suite to stay in during our time here, which is typical. Every tour, we're only on the bus while traveling, but once we reach each city, we get a hotel room during our stay there.
This time, we're staying together rather than in separate rooms, a decision I've already regretted, considering Damon has had a woman in his bed both nights we've been here.
Leave it to Damon to find the two loudest women in the city and bring them back to our penthouse to fuck. And, of course, I'm the lucky fuck that has to share a wall with him.
Bastard.
After showering and pulling on a pair of black briefs, I walk out of the ensuite, using one of the white fluffy cotton towels to dry my hair. I return to the bedroom as my phone pings with an incoming text.
Looking at the screen, knots return to my stomach.
Camille
Can't wait to see you! 10 a.m. at Carlie's Café.
Me
I'll be there.
Fuck.
I have no choice but to suck it up and face her.
I can do this. I have to do this.
She deserves it.
By ten, I'm sitting at a table in the back of Carlie's Café, a local place Camille and I would often come to when I lived here, when she comes waddling in, her large pregnant belly perfectly round and protruding.
Seeing her makes my skin pale and my mouth dryer than the Nevada desert. I knew she was pregnant, but the sight is still shocking, especially considering she was always against having another child. Even before Luca died, she never wanted another one. A decision that was cemented by his death.
No matter how in love I am now, it's still jarring to see a woman I used to be in love with move on and be happy. Especially because she’s getting everything I couldn’t give her. I'm thrilled for Cam because she deserves it, but it's still a shock to the system and enough to send a punch to the heart.
She rushes toward me, dressed in her typical attire of stilettos and a form-fitting dress, lips painted a deep red, and black hair pin straight down her back. Her lips are spread in a wide smile, and her emerald eyes shine in delight at seeing me. Soon, the light in her eyes will be extinguished.
"Declan!" She wraps her arms around me, pulling me down for a hug the best she can around her pregnant belly.
I return the embrace, lingering longer than I should to inhale her sweet, familiar scent and remember what it feels like to have her in my arms.
"Hey, Cam." I exhale, squeezing her a little tighter. We break apart, and I help her into her seat before sitting across from her.
"Hope you still like the lavender honey lattes because that's what I ordered for you." I gesture toward the steaming coffee mug in front of her. I'd ordered as soon as I got here, and our drinks had been delivered moments before she arrived, so they’re both still piping hot.
She grins, picks the mug up, and blows into it before taking a careful sip. "Of course I do." She licks her top lip where the milk clung to it. "I've obviously had to limit my caffeine intake, but when I do drink coffee, this is what I get." She takes another sip before setting the cup down, her eyes focusing on me.
Her head tilts to the side, and her bright-green eyes study me, no doubt taking in the dark circles beneath my eyes, disheveled hair from nervously running my fingers through it the past few hours, and hands in a white-knuckle grip holding onto my own coffee mug.
"What's wrong?" she asks, already knowing something isn't right with me. It's amusing that she couldn't tell when something was wrong with me for so many years. Only after we divorced did she begin to notice when I wasn't okay.
All the times I did drugs right under her nose or lied unconvincingly to her face, she either didn't care enough to try and notice or was that blind when it came to me. I'll admit I did try to hide the drug use, but there were many times when I was sloppy, and it was evident that I was using.
When she saw me with red eyes, dilated pupils, or slurred words, she never called me out. Now, I wonder why. She must have known.
Clearing my throat, I decide to dive head first into the year's past due conversation rather than begin a meaningless conversation. "Cam, I need to tell you something."
Her eyes widen, and her posture straightens as she raises her guard, already on high alert by the tone of my voice. "Are you using again?" she asks in a pained whisper.
She knows about my relapse a few months ago and knows exactly how long I've been sober this time around, so her question isn't surprising, but for once, I wish everyone wouldn't expect the worst from me.
Guess I can't blame anyone when the worst is all I've ever given them.
Shaking my head, I shove my fingers through my dark hair, needing to do something with my twitching fingers. "No, I'm still sober. I have been doing really good, actually."
A proud smile crosses her face. Camille leans forward and places a hand on mine, giving me the strength to speak. "Tell me whatever you need to tell me."
Taking a deep breath, I hold it and count to ten, then slowly exhale. Holding her gaze, I confess my biggest sin to her before I can think better of it. "Camille, I want you to know that I'm so fucking sorry and that I know what a worthless piece of shit I am. I've been beating myself up daily for years, and I've wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn't." She shakes her head in confusion, opening her mouth to speak, but I cut her off, needing to say what I've got to say before she responds. "I'm the reason Luca is gone."
Pity fills her green eyes. "Declan, we've discussed this. What happened that night was an accident. I know I blamed you in the past, but that was just because I was angry and grieving. I know it was an accident." For a long time, she blamed me, and one night, during a fight, she told me that she blamed me because I was the one driving. That should've been when I told her what happened, but I didn't. Instead, I let her be angry and then apologized for being angry and for every hurtful thing she said that I deserved.
She fucking apologized and felt like shit, and I still kept my mouth shut.
What the fuck is wrong with me ?
"I was high," I confess, rendering her speechless. "Before I got behind the wheel, I'd just snorted some coke. I wasn't tired from working. I was out of it because I was high." She pulls her hand away from me, face paling as she stares at me across the table, green eyes shining with tears that spill free and cascade down her pale cheeks.
"You're lying. You wouldn't do that when our son was going to be in the car." Before that night, I never had. Luca had never even seen me high or drunk, but something changed in me that night. The voices became too much, and I wanted to feel free, so I gave in, not considering that my family would soon be in the car.
Tears fill my own eyes as I stare at my ex-wife, seeing the emotions that fill her eyes and change her face. Her features switch from confusion to anger to denial.
"You're lying." Her eyes beg me to tell her I'm lying, but I can't. "Why are you lying?"
"I'm not lying, Cam. The accident was my fault. I was high and didn't see the red light." I was under the influence, ran a red light, and ended up in the intersection where we were hit by a semi-truck. Had I been sober, I would've noticed the red light and stopped.
Had I fucking been sober, my son would still be here. He'd get to grow up and celebrate every birthday. He'd get to experience what tomorrow will bring.
A strangled sob escapes her, earning curious glances from other patrons in the restaurant, but I don't pay them any attention. My sole focus is Camille.
A public space wasn't the best place to have this conversation, but I can't change it now. We're already here.
"You—” She chokes on her words, mascara-coated tears running down her face, leaving black streaks. "You killed our baby." Her red bottom lip wobbles and my heart fucking breaks at the sight of the strongest woman I know falling apart in front of me .
"How could you?" She hiccups, mouth open as she sucks in air. "How could you?" she repeats, voice louder.
When I open my mouth, she raises a hand to silence me. She abruptly stands, the chair falling back with the movement. "I need to get out of here." Not bothering to wipe away the black stains, she rushes out of the café, and I follow right behind her.
Once we're outside, she places one hand on the brick wall of the building and the other on her pregnant belly, shoulders shaking with her loud sobs. "How could you!" she screams, anger and so much fucking pain swimming in her now dull green eyes.
"You have no idea how much I wish I could return to that night and change what I did. Or how many nights I wish it were me that died instead of him." Tears sting my eyes as they roll down my cheeks. My heart breaks at the sight of her, and I ache to hold her, but I remain rooted in place, knowing her well enough that she'd never let me touch her.
Steeling her spine, Camille narrows her eyes into a glare at me, using the back of her hands to wipe her face, eyes never leaving mine. "Yeah, you should've." Her words strike me like a fist that just delivered the first blow. "You're right, Declan. You are worthless, and it should've been you.'' Her words are delivered with so much venom that it catches me by surprise. I stumble back, catching myself before I trip, but the venom continues to spill from her lips, "You just can't seem to stop hurting me, can you?"
She steps toward me, fury in her eyes. If looks could kill, I'd drop dead on the sidewalk. Without warning, her palm strikes my cheek, forcing my head to jerk to the side, leaving my cheek stinging.
"Go to hell," she says through gritted teeth before disappearing from my sight.
Too late, babe, I'm already there.