Chapter Fourteen
I tipped a generous pour of cream into my coffee, swirling the spoon until the color mellowed to warm tan.
It was too hot to drink, but I blew on it anyway, needing that first jolt to get the day moving.
I felt sluggish. Today was supposed to be busy—a big shipment coming, and Mr. Porter wanted to reorganize the whole fantasy section to make room.
I stood, half-dreaming, until Cam came into the kitchen, crisp shirt half-buttoned, the faintest hint of cologne following him.
“Morning, babe,” he said, voice still rough with sleep. He reached down to brush a kiss over my cheek, his mouth grazing my skin. “Did you make me a cup?”
I grabbed a mug from the cabinet before he could ask again, poured coffee, hot and black, from the pot, and slid it across the counter toward him. The action was familiar, almost automatic.
The oven beeped, punctuating the quiet, and I grabbed a potholder and rescued the tray of croissants, setting them to cool with a little flourish. They made the kitchen smell bright and golden—the scent of morning.
“What’s this for?” Cam asked, a note of suspicion in his voice. “We never eat breakfast.”
“I was going to take them to—,” and I had to break the sentence off abruptly, not daring to finish it. “To Mr. Porter.”
It was dangerously close to the truth. But not quite a lie, either. I really was going to take them in for Mr. Porter and for Nate. That counted, didn’t it?
“Mr. Porter?” Cam repeated.
“He owns that antique shop on the edge of town—the one that sells books, too.” I fumbled the words, hoping if I stuck close enough to the real facts, I wouldn’t slip. “I stop in sometimes, and he’s always so nice. I wanted to bring something by for him—and the other employees.”
It was true, in its way.
Cam just looked at me, his gaze a tangle of curiosity and caution, like he wanted to dig deeper but wasn’t sure he wanted to find anything. Maybe he didn’t know how much I was holding back. Maybe it didn’t matter.
“Can I have one?” he said, gesturing impatiently to the croissants.
“Of course.”
He snatched one up, devouring it in three quick bites. Coffee washed it down.
“That was really good,” he said, surprise in his voice. “You ought to make those more often.”
“Maybe,” I said, noncommittal.
He leaned in for another kiss before he left, this one lingering longer. I waited until he pulled out of the driveway, the car’s engine fading into the morning, before picking up my phone and calling Rachel.
She answered on the third ring, but her voice sounded distant. “Hold on a sec,” she said.
I could hear muffled voices behind her, a door closing sharply, then the sound of her settling herself somewhere more private.
“Okay, what’s up, girl?”
“Did I interrupt something?” I asked, a little amused.
She laughed, bright and unbothered. “You know me, always in the middle of something. Or someone.”
I grinned. “Is this ‘someone’ named Jackson, by any chance?”
“You know it is. Who else have I been with lately?”
“So are you a ‘thing’ now? Because honestly, I’d be thrilled for you if you were.”
“Ugh, Livi, you and your labels.” She made a noise like she was rolling her eyes. “We’re just having fun right now. Sure, I like him—a lot. But I’m not ready for the boyfriend-girlfriend, monogamy package. Not yet.”
“Okay, okay,” I conceded, smiling. “I just want to see you happy. He’s treating you right?”
“Oh, absolutely,” she said, a wicked lilt to her voice. “Very, very right. And sometimes wrong, which I love even more.”
I laughed out loud. “You’re a mess.”
I could hear water running in the background, then the rhythmic sound of her brushing her teeth. Only Rachel.
“How are things on your end?” she asked, words a little garbled.
I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see. “Things are… steady, I guess. Cam’s good when he’s here, and when he’s not, he’s just gone. I still love my job. Hanging out with Nate makes the days go faster. And I have you, obviously. So, nothing new. Same old me.”
“Hanging out with Nate?” She caught onto that instantly.
I hesitated. “Well, yeah. At work mostly, but we caught a movie the other night. Not a date or anything, just friends.”
She went silent, and I could hear her rinsing her mouth, the dull thump of the cup against the sink.
“What’s up, Rach?”
She spit, then cleared her throat. “Nothing, really. Jackson doesn’t say much about Nate, just that they go way back.
Apparently, Nate had a tough childhood—a lot of issues with his dad, and some of it rubbed off.
He’s better now, though. Jackson says he’s gotten treatment, turned things around.
Says he’s on the up and up. Jackson sounds like an old man, right? ”
“Did he say what kind of treatment? Was Nate sick?”
“No, not exactly. Or maybe he mentioned more and I just forgot—I was pretty wasted that night. I’ll try to find out, if you want.”
“Please,” I said, finishing off my coffee. “Or maybe don’t. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me. I don’t want to be nosy and wreck our friendship. He’s easy to be around.”
“I get it,” Rachel said, voice softer. “But seriously, be careful, okay? And if anything gets weird, go to Cam. That guy would walk through fire for you.”
I nodded, even if she couldn’t see. “Thanks, Rach.”
“Anytime. Bye!”
∞∞∞
Cam and I stood in line at the aquarium, his fingers laced through mine. We’d been here not long ago, but now that Cam was home more often, our usual pool of date ideas had already started to run dry. The aquarium had a new sea lion show. I’d suggested it, and here we were.
He was quiet. Not sullen, but not talkative, either. I should have tried harder to fill the silence, but my mind kept circling back to work—and to Nate. I loved Cam, I loved the comfort of us, but now that I had more of him, I missed the energy of the bookshop.
Once inside, Cam led me to the otters first, knowing that was my favorite. They tumbled and spun in their pool, a silent, giddy ballet. I could have watched them all day.
“They’re so adorable,” I said, forehead leaning on the glass. “If I come back in another life, I want to be an otter.”
Cam grinned at me, amused. “Really? Not something tougher?”
I shook my head. “Otters get to play all day, water and sun. They look so happy. They have tight families, and they mate for life.”
I realized, too late, that Cam was staring at me, the implication hanging thick between us. My cheeks went hot.
“I’m sorry, Cam. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
He caught my chin, his thumb gentle. “I know, baby. We mate for life, too. I couldn’t live without you. I wish you could believe that.”
His words should have soothed me, but instead I felt a deep, aching sadness. I slipped my arm through his and tugged him toward the next exhibit.
“Let’s see the dolphins,” I said, forcing brightness into my voice.
We stood in front of giant windows that looked into the blue depths of the tank, watching dolphins gliding through the water. They moved as a pair, sleek bodies arching in unison from the bottom to the surface and back again.
Cam pointed. “They stick together, see? I bet those two have been a pair forever. Love at first sight, just like us.”
But there was a heaviness in me that his words couldn’t lighten.
“Dolphins are polygamous,” I told him quietly. “They have lots of partners. Kind of like us, I guess. Or just you, since I only have one.” I hesitated, then added, “If you come back in another life, you’ll be a dolphin, and I’ll still be an otter. Maybe fate will get it right next time.”
He sighed. “Are you going to keep poking at me all day, Livi? I thought we came here to enjoy ourselves.”
He was right. But even as I apologized, the words hollow, I realized that being with him like this had started to feel wrong. Like wearing a shirt that didn’t fit anymore.
I loved Cam. But it hurt now to look at him without picturing him with her—a memory alive and cruel, refusing to fade.
“I’m sorry, Cam,” I said, voice small.
He pulled me against him, held me tight. “I don’t want to keep hurting you, I just don’t know how else to fix myself. I wish I did.”
A horn blared overhead, the loudspeaker announcing that the sea lion show would start in forty-five minutes.
“You hungry?” Cam asked, gentle again. “We’ve got time before the show.”
“Yeah, I could eat,” I said.
We ordered burgers and fries from a nearby kiosk and found a seat. He dumped armfuls of ketchup packets in front of me, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness.
I buried my burger under ketchup. Cam groaned around his first bite, eyes rolling up in bliss.
“It’s just a burger,” I teased him.
“Yeah, but I was starving. And it’s amazing.” He looked almost sheepish, licking a smudge from his thumb. “You’d think I hadn’t already eaten three croissants this morning.”
I’d started baking more since he’d taken a liking to them, setting some out for him in the mornings before I took the rest for Mr. Porter and Nate. But today’s batch had been just for Cam, with a little chocolate drizzled on top for effect.
He tore through his meal in record time and, when he thought I wasn’t looking, started pilfering fries from my tray. I let him. But thinking about his appetite made me think of Nate, and I had to shove the thought away. I couldn’t let my mind wander like that.
Cam grabbed another fry, and I giggled. “Why don’t you just order something else?” I smiled, shaking my head at him.
He shrugged. “If you insist. Want anything?”
I shook my head. He walked back to the counter, and I found myself watching the way his back moved under his shirt, the way his jeans fit. He was a handsome man. Even now.
He came back with a melting vanilla ice cream cone. I watched the way he licked it, slow and deliberate, and for a brief moment the sweetness cut through the heaviness inside me.
“Good?” I asked, taking a last bite of burger.
He nodded, offering me the cone. I took a careful lick, the cold and sugar bright against my tongue.
His gaze went dark as he watched me. “I was just remembering when we met,” he said.
I laughed, caught off guard. “When you dropped your ice cream in my lap?”
It had been after classes, at the campus ice cream shop.
Cam and his friends, loud and silly, shoving each other.
Someone pushed Cam too hard and he’d crashed into our table, his cone smearing all over both of us.
Vanilla everywhere. He’d looked down at the mess and just said, “Thank God it wasn’t chocolate.
” I’d thought that was hysterical. Cam had helped me clean up, then apologized a dozen times and asked for my number. That was how it started.
Cam squeezed my hand now, rubbing his thumb over my skin. “I knew you were it for me, from the first minute. I’ve never felt anything like the way I feel about you.”
The loudspeaker popped again. Only fifteen minutes to show time.
I pulled my hand away, a little too abruptly. “Maybe we should get moving, if we want seats.”
We were late, though; by the time we made it to the stadium, the best spots were already filled. We climbed all the way to the top row and found a space in the corner.
“At least it’s private,” I offered.
“Not great for recording, though.” He pulled out his phone.
“We don’t need a video. We’ll remember it.”
But his phone pinged, bright as a fire alarm, and I saw the name Brinley flash before he tilted the screen away.
He replied fast, fingers flying. My stomach knotted.
Was that her? Was his Thursday night girl now texting him in the middle of our date? Was he letting her into hours I’d thought were just for us?
The lights went down and the show started, but I couldn’t focus on anything except the leaden pain behind my ribs. Cam was laughing, clapping, but it felt like watching a stranger.
His phone pinged again. This time, he checked it right in front of me, the screen angled just enough for me to see—a photo, nearly naked, that same brunette I’d glimpsed before. Wearing lingerie, sprawled out on her bed, bold and completely unashamed.
Brinley. That was her name.
And now she was sending pictures to my husband while we sat together, and he was responding, his face breaking into a boyish grin as he hit send.
“She’s gorgeous,” I whispered. “I can see why you want her.”
He turned so fast I actually jumped, my first tear slipping free.
“Oh god, Livi. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’d like to leave now,” I said, blinking back the rest of my tears.
“The show’s not over. Please, Livi, don’t let this ruin everything.”
“I want to go home, Cam. Please.”
He didn’t argue. He just took my hand and led me out, careful on the stairs, ushering me back to the car. I beat him there, slammed the door, fumbled with my seatbelt.
He drove slow, threading us through the city, but I didn’t say a word. I watched the world outside my window: people walking, laughing, living. For all I knew, they were actually happy.
He finally spoke, voice quiet and wounded. “I’m sorry, Livi. It’s just habit, responding like that. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“So you two talk a lot? It’s not just Thursday nights?”
“We text sometimes. But I only see her on Thursdays, I promise.”
“She’s beautiful,” I said, softer this time.
“You’re beautiful, Livi.”
“Not like her. She could model. Do you love her?”
“No! It’s not like that. Not even close.” He gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white.
“I thought this was supposed to be once a week, physical, no strings. But now it’s bleeding into the rest of our lives. She’s texting you when you’re with me, and you’re answering her. If you were with her, you wouldn’t answer a photo from me.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it cracked.
His jaw flexed. “It’s not like that, Livi. She means nothing, she’s just… it’s just sex.”
The bluntness of it hit me like a slap.
“It’s hard enough,” I whispered, “sharing you at all. But now it’s everywhere, and I can’t do it.”
He stopped at a red light, finally turning to look at me.
“You don’t have to share my heart. That’s always yours. Always. Do you want me to stop seeing her?”
I nodded. “Yes! Please. I just want to feel like I matter more than this.”
He shook his head as the light changed and the car rolled forward.
“I’ll stop seeing her, but I’m not ready to quit completely. Not yet. I wish I was, but I’m not.”
“When will you be?” I asked, voice so quiet I doubted he heard me.
He just stared out the windshield. “I don’t know,” he said finally.
I didn’t answer him.
I just hoped he’d find the answer before we ran out of time.