18. Ivy
IVY
“A re you not hungry?” Nancy’s voice pulls my focus from pushing my food around on my plate, and I jerk my head up and meet her concerned blue gaze that matches that of both her sons.
I force a smile, clearing my throat to relieve the tension there. “I’m sorry.”
The same two words I found scrawled on the Post-it on the coffee table when I woke on the couch this morning. Covered in the same blanket Cam draped across me that first night. His scent still clinging to me and the taste of his kiss lingering on my lips and tongue.
Maybe that’s why I can’t eat anything.
Or maybe it’s because the woman across the table from me has come to know me so well over the past several years, has become like a mother to me in the absence of my own, and I hate lying to her.
Not just about the fact that Cam is here in town, but about what happened with him last night.
If she knew…
God…
I cringe thinking about her reaction.
Even I can’t fathom how or why it happened, and I was there. I was a very willing participant. And yet, I can’t process it. I can’t get my head around what I did. What we did.
I squirm under her assessment, as if she can somehow see the fact that I did something very wrong and very stupid with him less than twelve hours ago.
Very wrong.
Very stupid.
I swallow my nerves and force myself to take a bite of the chicken salad she prepared. Chewing slowly, I watch her watch me until I swallow and take a sip of my lemonade, but the citrusy scent only reminds me of Cam’s, tightening my stomach uncomfortably. “It’s good.”
She smirks in a way that’s so similar to her sons that I can see where they learned it. “You don’t have to lie to me, Ivy. We’ve known each other long enough that I don’t think you need to.”
A tiny bit of tension releases from my shoulders and gut, and I offer her a real smile this time.
Because she’s right.
I push my plate away and rest my hands on my lap so I don’t fidget, something she would definitely notice, too, because I haven’t been nervous around Nancy since the first time we met at her birthday party right here in this house.
And one minute with this woman showed me exactly how Drew turned into such an incredible man—because he had a mother like her .
Kind.
Intelligent.
Strong.
Confident.
Dedicated.
Unrelenting in her focus to give her children a good life.
Between losing their father and fighting cancer, Nancy has had her share of hardships, but she’s managed to weather each storm and come out stronger on the other side.
I’d love to know her secret.
Because right now, it feels like I’m failing.
And like she can see right through me the same way Cam seems to.
She takes a few more bites of her own meal and pushes her plate away, wrapping her hands around her glass. “I’m glad you could come join me for lunch today.”
“Me, too.”
I smile at her, but I can see the inky circles under her eyes, the lines around her mouth. She isn’t sleeping, so maybe she isn’t dealing with Drew’s death as well as she makes out she is.
If she knew Cam was here…
My chest tightens, guilt slithering through me like a venomous snake releasing its poison. Because last night, after crying more tears than I knew possible, I passed out securely in Cam’s arms, and got what was probably the most sleep I’ve managed in almost two months.
Don’t think about why that might be…
I’d love to believe it’s because I finally spread Drew’s ashes, finally got that release as opposed to the one Cam gave me, but the way my body heats at the memory of his touch.
How he played me like a goddamn guitar, his fingers moving over me expertly, working me up and making me explode with the kind of pleasure and escape from reality I so desperately needed in that moment…
Nancy narrows her eyes on me. “Are you feeling okay?”
Shit.
That heat spreads across my cheeks, and the poor woman probably thinks I’m about to pass out or something. I nod. “Yeah. I’m good. I promise.”
She leans back in her chair, looking at me in a way that tells me she doesn’t quite buy it. Those same assessing eyes Drew and Cam inherited roam over me. “You don’t look like you’ve been eating or sleeping.”
Or hiding it well, apparently.
I let out a shaky sigh, pushing my hands through my hair. “I have been, just not well.”
Though definitely better since Camden’s been leaving me meals, essentially forcing me to eat by bribing me with all the delicious foods I love and can’t turn down, even when my stomach doesn’t want it.
She offers me a tight smile. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t been, either.”
That admission from her takes me aback.
Nancy has always been such a rock for Drew and for me, so to hear those words from her brings a combination of relief that I’m not the only one struggling and concern for the woman I’ve come to love so much.
Tears start to well in my eyes.
I have to tell her what I did.
If I don’t, I feel like I might burst.
“I, uh…” I bite my lip, trying to limit it to the necessary words and not everything that seems to want to spew out, including Camden’s secret and my own new one. “I spread Drew’s ashes yesterday.”
Her back stiffens slightly, but she forces a smile and nods. “Good. Where did you do it?”
When he died, she made it very clear—despite my protests—that she wanted me to make that decision. To her, it didn’t matter that the ceremony hadn’t happened yet. For all intents and purposes, I was Drew’s wife in her eyes, and it was up to me to determine where he spent the rest of eternity.
The only requests she made were that I didn’t tell her when I was going to do it because she already said her goodbyes to him and that I did it somewhere that meant something to him…and to me.
I think I succeeded in that.
“Strathmere Beach.”
A single tear slips from the corner of her eye, and she bats it away and offers me a smile filled with so much affection it makes my own tears fall. “Good. That’s how he would have wanted it. The perfect place.”
I nod, fingering my lemonade glass even though the thought of drinking it makes my stomach churn slightly.
Will I ever stop smelling Cam’s scent and remembering how intensely he kissed me last night? Or the way his body jerked and trembled beneath mine? Or how tightly he held me afterward as we both cried?
Wiping away my tears, I force myself to take another sip just to clear my throat. “He deserved to be there instead of in a box on my mantle.”
Nancy gives me a sad smile and nods. “I’m glad you did it. I hope…” She draws in a deep breath. “I hope it gives you some sense of closure. Not on your love for him because that will last forever, but in terms of being able to move forward.”
That’s what she had to do with two young sons when her husband died.
She didn’t have the luxury of falling apart and wallowing in her misery the way I have been. Because she had Drew and Cam to take care of. She had to take on two roles and be everything for them. And she did it so damn well.
Her hand slides across the table and over mine. “If you ever need me for anything, now or ever, I’ll be here. Always.”
Drew said similar words to me so many times.
Promises that he would never leave me.
That he would always be there for me.
But he’s gone…
And if Nancy knew what I’m keeping from her, it might change everything between us.
Just like what happened last night with Cam will with him…
I let my gaze drift over to the family photo of the three of them hanging in the living room off the kitchen. The same one I often caught Drew looking at in his office before he would try to hide it away from me, almost like he was embarrassed to be caught with it.
They look so happy.
Even Cam does, that anguish that lingers in his gaze now somehow abated in this picture.
I swallow my nerves, hoping I’m wrong in anticipating her answer to the question I’m about to ask. “Have you heard from Camden?”
She follows my gaze, and when I return it to her, she offers a tight smile. “He called a few days ago.”
“Oh.” I hold my breath, waiting for her to say that he admitted he’s in town, that he explained his absence from the funeral, but instead, she releases a long sigh, pushes her chair back, and walks over to the counter to refill her lemonade from the pitcher. “Is he…okay?”
Nancy pauses with the carafe halfway raised, then sets it down and turns around to face me, leaning against the counter, resting her hands behind her.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I never can tell with him.
Drew was always so open and honest with his emotions, but Cam…
” She shakes her head and releases an exasperated breath, staring out into the backyard where the boys played their whole lives.
“It was always so hard to tell with him.”
“Because he isn’t emotional?”
Her head whips back, and she laughs slightly. “Sometimes I forget you don’t know him.” She offers a tight smile. “Cam is far more emotional than Drew and always has been.”
“Really?”
I picture the man I know—or am getting to know—how quiet he is, reserved, shut off, always hiding and holding something back. Until he gives me these little bursts of insight, cracks in his armor where his emotions flood out so vividly they overwhelm him.
“Drew always wore his heart on his sleeve. He needed to talk things out. To have a hug and be comforted when he skinned a knee or was emotionally hurt. He thrived on human contact and relationships. That was why he was so good with patients. But Cam was more introspective. He was always in his own head and often got lost there for far too long.”
Now that sounds like the Cam I know.
Always bottled up.
Struggling to control his demons.
Desperate to keep his secrets buried.
Nancy returns to pouring her drink and then retakes her seat, wrapping her hands around the glass as her eyes drift to another photo on the wall—of her with her late husband. “When their dad died, Cam completely shut everyone out.”
“Even Drew?”