Chapter Twenty-Six
Sunlight hammered in through the curtains when I finally pried open my eyes. Instantly, I winced and hissed, squeezing my lids tight against the day’s glare. My skull throbbed, sharp and hot behind my forehead, and I groaned. That was waaaay too much wine. When had I even gone to bed?
The answer whirled together in a rush: pacing the living room, Cam ignoring my calls, a bottle of pinot draining as my worries multiplied. My tongue felt thick; my mouth was sandpaper. I tried to sit up and nearly collapsed back in bed when a spike of pain shot straight through my head.
One thing was immediately obvious: Cam was gone.
I scanned the bed. Pillows and sheets, empty on his side.
The sunlight was already too bright for my usual wake-up time.
Oh god, was I late? I patted around for my phone, heart skipping a beat, and when I finally found it there were two missed calls and two texts from Nate.
I just opened up shop. You’re not here. Obviously. Call me.
Okay, so you’re an hour late now and not answering my calls. Just let me know you’re okay when you get this. Pops isn’t here yet but I’ll cover for you.
I hurried out a response, thumbs clumsy.
Sorry! I just woke up. I must have fallen asleep on the couch last night and forgot to set my alarm. I’ll be there asap!
His reply dinged in not two seconds.
No problem! Glad everything’s okay. Don’t rush, I’ve got things under control. See you soon.
I forced myself into the bathroom, brushing sour morning breath from my teeth as I tried to piece together where Cam had gone.
He hadn’t woken me before leaving. That was weird, even with how things were lately.
Maybe he’d wanted to avoid my questions.
I’d spent half the night fretting. And as far as Cam knew, I was still just the dutiful wife who barely rolled out of bed in time to make coffee.
He didn’t have a clue about the bookshop—that I worked there.
I trudged to the kitchen, already desperate for caffeine, the ache behind my eyes turning into a drumbeat. I pulled soy milk and espresso from the fridge, robotically prepping my latte. I needed to call Cam, needed to hear his explanation—even if he thought I’d just let it slide.
I hit his name in my contacts and pressed the phone to my ear. The first ring had barely finished when I heard it: another ring, echoing from the living room.
Hesitating, I followed the sound to the doorway. Cam sat in the recliner, staring right at me. He looked… bad. Eyes bloodshot, pale, exhaustion cut across his face in harsh lines. Had I really missed him on the way through? I guess, with the hangover and the haze and all.
“I didn’t know you were still here,” I said. “I thought you went to work.”
Cam just let out a tired sigh, rubbing at his face with both hands. In the bright morning light, he looked like he hadn’t slept a minute.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, worry fizzing in my gut as I came toward him.
He looked at me. Said nothing.
“Cam?” I nudged, voice way softer now.
He slumped forward, elbows on knees. “I didn’t sleep last night. I’m taking a day off. I need to think.”
“What happened last night?” I asked, moving to sit on the couch across from him. “Did something go down at work?”
He raised his eyes, slow and sad, and shook his head.
“I’m really sorry about not showing up last night. I had to deal with some stuff.”
“Some stuff…” I repeated back, waiting. “Not work?”
Cam leaned back, jaw tight, and looked me over like he was weighing me. “I’m tapped out, Livi. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Later, okay?”
“Later?” My voice climbed a notch. “You were the one who wanted our anniversary dinner. You made me reserve a table and then just… didn’t show up. Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?”
“Of course you do. But I just can’t right now. I don’t have the words.”
My stomach twisted. “What could possibly be so bad that you can’t just tell me?”
Silence. My fear crept in from the corners.
Was he with her? My mouth almost formed her name: Lacey. But I couldn’t say it, not yet. I bit the words back, voice brittle. “Were you with her?”
He didn’t bother to deny it. “What does it matter? I was dealing with something important. That’s all you need to know for now. I know I’m a shit for missing our date, especially on such a special night, but it was really important and I’ll make it up to you.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, anger and bile burning up through my chest. “It was more important than your wife?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“So, you were with her. Your mistress.”
“She was going through something. She needed me.”
“And I didn’t?”
Cam’s hands bunched into fists. “You didn’t even expect us to go out last night. Not until I said I wanted to.”
“But you did say you wanted to. You asked me to make reservations. And I waited there for you like an idiot while you were out comforting your whore!” The word burst out, ugly and raw, but I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried. I regretted it instantly, but god, it fit the moment.
Cam flinched, not from the word, but from what was inside it. “Don’t be petty, Livi.”
I could barely breathe. “Do you love her?” The question was a live wire. “Is that what you’re not telling me? You’ve fallen in love with her, and you’re leaving me?”
His voice was sharp, his answer fast: “Of course not!” He threw his arms up, exasperated. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, you’re too emotional.”
“Because what you’re doing is emotional!”
“It’s not! I don’t love her, I never will. How many times do I have to say it? How many ways do I have to show you you’re the only one for me?”
I shook my head, bitter. “You have a funny way of showing it.” I got up and marched for the kitchen, hands trembling.
“Where are you going?” he called after me.
“To make my coffee,” I shot back, not turning around. “You clearly don’t want to talk about this anymore, right? So just leave me alone and let me think whatever I want.”
I heard him follow me. I felt him, looming, while I frothed milk and poured espresso and pretended he didn’t exist. If he wanted to shut me out, fine—I could play that game, too.
I finished my coffee in a few burning gulps, ignoring the sting on my tongue. I needed the caffeine jolt. More than that, I needed space; I was already late for work, no matter how many distractions Cam piled up in the kitchen.
I tried to brush past him, but he kept dogging my steps as I made my way upstairs and tugged clothes from shelves in the closet.
“Where are you going?” The tension in his voice was brittle.
“Out.”
“Out where?”
I swapped pajamas for a sweater and jeans, not even bothering to hide from him. “I don’t guess it concerns you, does it?”
“Livi.” His tone cut through the air, sharp enough to be a warning.
“Cameron,” I answered flatly.
He didn’t miss a beat. “Of course it concerns me. Are you going back to that bookstore? The one where he works?”
“Who? Nate?” I acted bored, flicking a glance his way as I pulled on flats. “Why does it matter?”
“It matters. I don’t like how much time you spend in that bookstore. I’m beginning to think you’re there for a reason other than just… books.”
I stilled, meeting his eyes. “And how would you know how much time I’m spending there, Cam? Are you still tracking me? Wasn’t that just for my protection?”
“It is. I just… think about you at work, and I look at the app. Just curiosity, nothing else. But you’re there almost every day during my work hours.”
“And?”
I yanked a brush through my hair and tied it up, feeling careless.
“And I don’t like the idea of you spending so much time there.”
Something inside me snapped. I turned on him.
“And I don’t like the idea of you screwing other women, but you do that anyway.
I also don’t like that you won’t tell me what last night was about, but I’ve accepted that you won’t.
Another thing I don’t like? That you dumped me on our anniversary to see her.
I don’t care if it was a crisis. I’m supposed to be the most important woman in your life, but as of today, it’s pretty clear I’m not.
So stop worrying about where I am or what I’m doing.
You can focus all your energy on her for all I care.
Until you’re ready to tell me what happened and why you stood me up, there’s nothing else to talk about. ”
He glared at me, voice closer to a growl. “So what—you’re just going to ignore me until you get your way?”
I shrugged, sliding my purse over my arm. “That’s up to you, Cam. Do you want to finally tell me what was so important last night?”
He glowered. “You don’t understand. I need time to think. To sort out my head.”
“Okay.”
The silence stretched out so long it felt like the clock had stopped.
“Okay?” he echoed.
I barely looked his way. “Take all the time you need, Cam.”
And I left, slamming the door hard behind me.
∞∞∞
The next few days felt like living in a waiting room: everything suspended, tense, waiting for something to break or change.
I filled up the empty hours with Rachel and Jackson.
After work, I’d head straight to Rachel’s, curl up on her couch with a paperback and quietly banish thoughts of home.
Sometimes they were out and I had the place to myself.
Half the time, Rachel joined me, and if she did, she always brought snacks and a smile. She never judged. She just let me be.
Nate came over a couple nights, too. He’d hang out with us, laugh too loud at Rachel’s dumb jokes, and we’d all play nice. We didn’t even flirt—not on the off nights. I was furious with Cam but I wasn’t going to make things worse by crossing any lines.