Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Leif
God, she’s gorgeous. Breathtaking. Mesmerizing.
The most beautiful woman in the room, and that’s saying something because Casey is a stunning bride.
I can’t wait to see Cami walk down the aisle to me—again—in a month. But this time, our family and friends will be present. I’ll finally meet her father and siblings; she’ll get to know the Bang brood. It’s everything I ever hoped for and today is a little trailer of what’s coming soon.
So soon, I can taste it.
The diamond engagement ring sits in my pocket; I’ve been careful not to stick my hand inside in fear of accidentally pulling it out. Or worse, losing it. To mitigate the risk, I tied a blue ribbon around it. Hudson thinks I’m nuts for carrying it around but I’m scared Cami will accidentally discover it if I leave it behind, tucked into our shared suitcase.
Tomorrow, once the wedding festivities come to a close, and Cami and I are on our way home, I’m going to propose. Before we leave the town limits of Honey Harbor, I’m going to pull over to a scenic spot I’ve already scouted. It overlooks the lake. It’s surrounded by beautiful, calming greenery. It’s quiet and tranquil. A slice of peace in a chaotic world.
That’s where I want to propose to my wife.
I want to give her the opposite of what we’ve already done—chaos in Vegas, calm in Honey Harbor. Two extremes, two experiences, two moments—just us.
This way, we’ll have a mini-anniversary, with her purple crown ring and a chapel in Vegas, and a mega-anniversary, with a real diamond and a wedding witnessed by our loved ones. It’s the best of both worlds.
Now that the ceremony is over and the bridal party has finished taking the necessary photos, I can finally enjoy a glass of champagne with Cami. I’m glad she had some time to herself today—shopping with Piper, having lunch with the girls. I even saw her chatting with one of Casey’s friends, Melissa, who I went on a date or two with years ago.
Cami had looked at me thoughtfully and I wondered what Melissa had said—but it can’t be anything bad, we’d parted on good terms, and she knew the score when we started seeing each other. It would just be casual. I’d never done anything real until Cami.
And tomorrow, I’m going to take the next step and propose, since Cami beat me to it the first time. I love that about our story. Hudson and Chris laughed until they cried when I told them that it’s my turn to propose. I grin at the memory and my smile widens as I approach her, standing beside the bar.
“You look beautiful,” I say, bending down to brush a kiss over her cheek.
She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks. You clean up pretty well, too.”
I frown. “What’s wrong?” My hand settles in the center of her back.
She shakes her head, her eyes darting across the venue to Piper and Hudson. “Nothing. Just…felt off all day.”
My frown deepens and I tug her closer. She comes easily and places her head against my shoulder, as if the energy just zapped from her body. Damn, I hope she’s not coming down with something. “I’m sorry, baby. What can I do?”
Cami shakes her head and pulls away. “Nothing. I’m sure it will pass. Let’s enjoy tonight. Let’s dance and mingle and have a beautiful time celebrating Casey and Chris. Their love.” Her voice hitches at the end.
I study her, wondering if she feels worse than she’s letting on. When she threads her fingers with mine, I relent. “Okay, but if you start to feel worse, we can dip out.”
Cami blinks fast, as if holding back tears. “I’ll be all right.” She tips her head toward the bar. “Champagne?”
“Are you sure you should have a drink?”
She snorts. “Trust me, I need one right now.”
“Okay,” I say, wondering what that’s supposed to mean. Before I can ask, Cami places the order and my friends surround us, everyone wanting to toast to Chris and Casey’s wedded bliss.
I let out an exhale and decide to talk to Cami about what’s bothering her tomorrow. Maybe she really doesn’t feel great. Or maybe seeing Casey and Chris marry made her nervous about our wedding. Or maybe I’m just reading into things and all she really wants is to have a great night.
I take a sip of the bubbly.
I can do that. I can give her a beautiful night. A night to remember.
Hell, every night with her is one I’d never want to forget.
We dance every slow song and most fast ones too. I hold Cami close, love the feel of her hand in mine, and sway to the music. I spin and dip her to some other tunes and love how her eyes lighten, bright blue sparkles in her gaze.
She looks at me longingly, like she can’t believe this is our life. Most days, I can’t believe it either. It seems too good to be true; too easy. No one marries the right person by accident, but I did.
I married the best person on a whim, and I’ve never been happier.
Hudson cuts in to steal my girl and I laugh as Piper pops up.
“You did good, Leif,” Piper says, tucking her dark brown hair behind her ears before taking my hand. “Cami is wonderful.”
I begin to dance with her. I didn’t know Piper as well as I would if I still lived in Ottawa but since she’s almost always around when I FaceTime with Hudson, I know her well enough. Enough that her opinion resonates and I’m happy she clicked with Cami. “She is,” I agree.
Piper gives me a long, searching look. Her dark eyes are sharp, studying me with an intensity that doesn’t belong in the center of a dance floor at a wedding.
“What’s going on, Pipe?” I ask, starting to feel like I’m on the outside of some joke—or a prank—I should be in on. Growing up with as many siblings as I have, you realize when you’re missing part of the picture like a sixth sense. The back of my neck prickles and my fingers flex on Piper’s slender hand.
Piper sighs. “I’ve heard a few things today that I think—and worry—may have gotten back to Cami.”
“What?” I frown.
Piper chances a glance at Hudson and Cami. Cami’s grinning at whatever wild, entertaining story Hudson’s recounting. Piper looks back at me, lowers her voice, and whispers, “I heard some of the guys here and some random women as well talking about you. Some say you won’t accept failure and that’s why you’re making this marriage with Cami work. Others are saying you don’t do serious and it’s only a matter of time until your relationship fizzles. But basically, a lot of people have a lot to say about your marriage with Cami. And if I was her and I heard some of the shit being said, my feelings would be hurt. I’m not telling you this to try to stir the pot; I just want to give you a heads-up. Cami is awesome and I’d hate for her to take any of that bullshit to heart.”
I rear back slightly at Piper’s words. I’ve spent the day with Chris and the guys, celebrating my friend’s wedding. I think to how Cami said she was feeling off all day. To how she looked upset earlier. Am I missing the signs? Did someone say something to her? Is she…worried?
“Thanks for letting me know, Piper,” I say, squeezing her hand. “I appreciate that.”
She nods. “I know, Leif. And trust me, I’m not one for gossip. But I know firsthand how misunderstandings can ruin a good thing.” Her eyes find Hudson again and I’m sure she’s recalling her history with him. The years they lost—years of friendship and trust and support—due to a lapse in communication.
The song ends, I thank Piper for the dance, and I find my girl.
She’s waiting for me, another champagne flute in hand.
“How are you feeling, Knox?” I ask, my hand slipping around her waist. Right now, I want her close. I wish I could tell her how much she means to me, how none of the shit circulating this weekend applies to her, or us. But this isn’t the right time for the conversation we need to have.
Besides, what help would words do when actions will prove stronger? Tomorrow, I’m going to propose, and she’ll know—with certainty—how deep and true my feelings for her run.
“Better,” she says, a soft smile on her lips. But she still holds herself apart. For the remainder of the night, there’s a distance between us that wasn’t there this morning.
I’m not sure I’d pick up on it without Piper’s warning but now, it’s obvious. And I hate it. When the wedding is over and I take Cami back to our room, she slips off her dress and comes to me.
God, but she’s beautiful. She kisses me deeply, her arms encircling my neck. I dip her, bending my body over hers as I try to show her my love. We come together desperately, as if we both have something to prove. I suppose we do.
When Cami pushes me onto the bed and straddles my hips, I grab her ass and squeeze. She smirks, her eyes flashing. Half sorrow, half fire. I can’t get a read on her but I’m along for the ride. I’m here for whatever she needs tonight.
And tomorrow, tomorrow is for talking.
She presses on my shoulders until I flop back and she hovers over me. “What do you want, Leif?”
“You,” I tell her truthfully.
Her chest rises and falls and her eyes bore into mine. “Why?”
Fuck, but I hate how her voice cracks.
I grip the back of her thigh, sliding my palm up and down the stretch of skin from her knee to her ass cheek and back again. “Because I love you, Cami.”
She shakes her head. “But why, Leif?”
Her insistence is bewildering. I move to sit up so we can talk right now. To hell waiting for tomorrow. If she needs the words, the ring, I’m ready to give it to her.
“No.” She shakes her head and pushes me back into the mattress. “I don’t want to talk,” she admits. “Not when we can do this instead.” Then she presses her mouth to mine and her body rolls over me.
With the bubbly and tequila shots I took with the guys buzzing in my head, I succumb to her lead. And fuck, it’s hot.
Cami grinds against me, my cock already hard and needy. Her full breasts are heavy as they swing above me and it’s all I can do but shift up and draw one into my mouth.
She sighs contently as I lap and suck at her sweet nipple. Her hand fists my cock and I nearly see stars. “Cami.”
“Want you, Leif. Right now, I fucking want you,” she pants.
It’s edgy. It’s reckless. It’s heady and desperate and fuck, I want her too.
Cami guides me to her opening and slowly works her way down, taking each inch of me until she bottoms out and I swear. My hands grip the tops of her thighs as she settles over me.
Her hands are on her own body now. Kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples. It’s the hottest fucking show of my life and all I want to do is watch her take. I want to watch her move and hear her groans and witness her fall over the edge.
She sets a pace that has me thinking of every fucked-up thing imaginable to hold on until she releases. And she chases her orgasm, moving her hips, shaking her ass, bouncing up and down, until her mouth drops open and she cries out my name.
As soon as she orgasms, she falls forward, collapsing on my chest. I hold her against my body as I thrust up into her. I feel ready to explode. My cock pulses in her pussy and my blood thunders in my eardrums. I’m half out of my mind with lust, with need. Spinning out of control and unable to think clearly.
On the fourth pump, I bite out her name. “Fuck, Camille.” I come inside her on a roar.
We stay like that, sated and spent, for a long time. At some point, my breathing regulates and my ability to think comes back. I exhale and tighten my hold on Cami.
Wetness coats my forearm and I frown, giving her a little shake. “Cami?”
She shakes her head but doesn’t reply.
Fuck. Is she crying? Panic rises inside and I shake her harder. “Hey. Knox, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she sniffles, sliding off me. She moves toward the bathroom, and I follow, nearly passing out as the blood rushes to my fucking head.
Hell, tonight is a head trip. Highs and lows and I’ve got no clue which way is up.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I enter the bathroom behind her.
She cleans up quickly. Her face is splotchy when she looks at me.
And my heart fucking breaks. My girl is straight up crying.
“Talk to me,” I demand, my panic rising. What is going on? What am I missing?
“Oh, Leif,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist.
She hugs me hard and I hold her.
“Leif, let’s go to sleep.”
“What?” I frown. “No. Let’s talk.”
“Tomorrow,” Cami whispers. “Please, I’m exhausted and emotional and… Tomorrow.”
“Baby, are you okay? Did something happen? I need you to give me something.” No way can I sleep with her crying beside me. Not until I know what’s wrong. Not until I know how to fix it.
“I’m okay. Today was just…a lot. Now, I’m tired and emotional and a little bit tipsy. Plus, that was intense.” She gestures toward the bed. “Let’s sleep, okay?” She takes my hand and tugs me toward the bedroom.
“Okay, baby.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’m just going to shower quickly.”
She nods and returns to bed. I rinse off, trying to collect my thoughts.
I think over the details of the day. I’m grateful for Piper’s heads-up but I still can’t pinpoint what happened. What am I missing? Where did things go awry?
I towel off and pull on a pair of boxers to sleep in. When I slide into bed, Cami is already asleep. Her face is peaceful in slumber, her lips pursed into a delicate pout, her eyelashes dark against her cheeks.
God, but I fucking love her. Whatever happened today, I’ll fix it. I’ll make everything better tomorrow.
The thought settles me some. I wrap my arm around Cami, pull her into my chest, and hold her close. Then, I follow her into sleep.
When I wake in the morning, her side of the bed is empty.
“Cami?” I sit up, looking around the room. My heart rate picks up instantly, as if warning me of danger. I stumble from the bed and glance around the room. Our suitcase is still in the closet, but something feels different.
Off.
Did she head out for a coffee or a walk?
Her phone is gone. So is her purse.
What the hell? I check the time and note it’s after eleven AM.
When did she leave? Where did she go?
I race into the bathroom and note that her makeup bag, her hairbrush, her fucking toothbrush are all gone.
Is she coming back? Is she done?
Is she ghosting me? Again.
Déjà vu rocks through me and I stumble, reaching out to grab the doorframe. Nausea rolls in my gut, making me lightheaded and shaky.
Cami left me. On the day I was going to propose, she fucking disappears. She doesn’t want what I want. She never did.
Hell, she told me as much.
I want to start my life. On my own terms. Not as someone’s wife. But as me, Cami Coleman.
Did I force the issue? I think back to deciding she’d move in with me, to roping her into my life, into meeting my friends, to insisting that I hang out with hers. I thought we were merging our lives together. I thought we were moving forward.
Was I off base on everything? Was I fighting a losing battle from the start?
I call her but as expected, it goes to voicemail.
Me: Cami, please let me know you’re okay.
Me: We need to talk.
Me: I don’t understand. Please, call me.
Fuck. I look at the empty bedroom, feeling like dropping to my knees and fucking wailing.
Instead, I force myself to pick up the room. To dress for the day. To check that the blue ribbon attached to my fucking dream is still tucked into my pocket.
The house is quiet as I pad downstairs for a cup of coffee. Out the back windows, I see my friends gathered on the floating dock. They’re drinking beers and cocktails, taking the kayaks and stand-up paddle boards for a ride.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
I don’t want to admit the truth to my friends. Not until I know what the truth is. As quickly as possible, I dash up the stairs, zip up my suitcase, stow it in my rental, and leave the house behind.
When I get to the scenic spot where I planned to propose, I pull over. My heart is in my throat, my head pounds, and I feel positively ill.
I rattle off a text to Hudson, letting him know we had to leave, and I’d touch base with him later.
Then, I text Cami again.
Me: Knox, how did you get home?
Me: I have the car.
Me: Did you Uber to the airport?
Me: Are you okay?
Me: Please, just call me.
I look out over the beautiful lake. The serene tranquility. It mocks me and I flip it the finger. A giant fuck you to this slice of peace. What the hell was I thinking? I’ll never have this.
The one relationship I tried—my fucking marriage—is crashing and burning and I don’t even know why.
I pull back onto the road and drive to the airport. I’m hours early for my flight, which wasn’t scheduled until tonight. Which flight did Cami take? Is she already back in Knoxville?
Two hours later, my stomach grumbles. I post up at a bar in the airport and order a burger, even though I don’t feel like eating. Sliding onto a barstool, I tug out my phone.
And all the pieces click together.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, staring at the screen.
Hudson: You okay, man? Where are you?
Hudson: What the fuck is going on?
Hudson: (Image)
It’s Cami having a coffee—at the fucking Coffee Grid in Knoxville—with Levi Rousell.
I’m sitting here, going out of my mind with worry, and my girl—my fucking wife—is on a coffee date with another man. With the goddamn rhythm guitarist for The Burnt Clovers. With a guy whose fame is so damn huge, he can’t even get a fucking coffee without someone snapping a photo.
Fuck this.
I tried. I gave her the best of myself and she…she still fucking chose him. A man who nearly ruined her life. A man who left her in a time of need. A man who barely remembered the fact that he once had her.
Disgust twists my stomach and I drop some bills on the bar, unable to touch my burger. I rush to the bathroom and drop to my knees in front of the toilet, vomiting the cocktails I consumed last night.
A sticky sheen coats my skin and I feel hollow. Bereft. Fucking empty.
I grip my phone and send Cami one final message along with the photo of her and Levi.
Me: (Image)
Me: I’m done. It’s over. My lawyer will contact you soon.
Then, I power off my phone, toss it into my bag, and stew in my thoughts until it’s time to fly back to Knoxville.
But now, it no longer feels like home.