30. Ivy #2
Cam lets his eyes drift closed, still resting his head on the brick. “When our dad died, everything we had of his became that much more valuable to us. And he had only one of those. And Drew was the oldest, so it was his , no matter how much Mom told him to share it and that it was both of ours.”
Of course, she did.
Nancy never would have drawn lines in the sand with something like this that clearly meant so much to the boys.
“Drew didn’t let you have it?”
He shakes his head, taking another sip without looking at me. “I stole it from his hiding spot a couple of times to play with it, but it always resulted in a fight Mom had to break up.”
My heart aches for her and for them. The boys were clinging to something that belonged to their hero, and at that age, the thought that keeping the other from it would be so hurtful never would have occurred to them.
It was an impossibly sad situation, and this doll clearly still meant a lot to both of them since it was the thing that brought Cam to my house in the first place.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, examining the doll in my hand—the scratches and small imperfections that show how much it was loved. “But he sent it to you…”
The tears burn in my eyes as Cam angles his gaze toward me and nods before gulping down another drink.
“He did.”
“Was there a note?”
He shakes his head. “There didn’t need to be. He knew I would know what it meant, that it was time for me to come home. He didn’t say anything about the wedding or you. I imagine he thought I’d call or maybe just show up.”
A peace offering.
It’s exactly something Drew would have done.
Cam put him in an impossible situation with what he did the night of that party, and no matter how mad I am at both of them for lying to me about it, I can see how hard it would have been for Drew to send this. To take that first step toward clearing the air and maybe forgiveness.
But that was the kind of person he was.
I never knew Drew to hold a grudge or bad feelings toward anyone, which is what always made the situation with Cam so confusing and out of character for him.
The fact that Drew reached out to Cam without telling me, at the same time I was reaching out to him, trying to get him to come to the wedding and maybe resolve whatever their issues were drives the already embedded knife so deeply that it steals my breath on a choked sob.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I stare down at the doll, adjusting the uniform coat before I look up at Cam. “I’m so sorry this didn’t get to you before he died.”
He nods. “Me, too. It might’ve…” Cam swallows painfully and clenches his eyes shut, wincing as if he’s in physical pain.
“It might’ve changed everything.” When his eyes open, the depth of agony there is so great that I can see how he got lost in it, what drove him to where he is right now.
His lips tremble, his hand holding the bottle shaking. “I’m so sorry.”
I resist the urge to close the distance between us, too afraid I’ll do or say the wrong thing and make the situation a thousand times worse. “Cam, nothing that happened is your fault.”
A sharp, sardonic laugh floats from his lips, and he drops his head back against the brick hard, banging it intentionally in a way that must be so painful it makes me wince. “Yes, it is. All of it.”
My stomach clenches, my hands tightening around the doll. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Cam.”
Those haunted eyes find mine, watery with his tears. “I have two things I have to tell you.” A sad smile tilts his lips. “One will make you hate me; the other…will make you despise me.”
The surety with which he says those words makes me set down the doll so I can go to him. “I could never hate you, let alone despise you, Cam.”
He holds up his hand, stopping me from getting to my feet, and shakes his head, a sob tearing from his chest. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”
What he’s done?
All the confessions he’s made over the past few days race through my head, and while there are certainly things that he should seek absolution for, Cam hasn’t done anything unforgivable. At least, not in my mind.
Maybe that’s all he needs to hear to stop this spiral.
“There’s nothing you ever could have done that I can’t forgive, Cam.”
He offers me another sad smile that I feel through every fiber of my being. It’s the kind someone gives when they’re saying goodbye, when they think they’ll never see someone again. “I’ve been in love with you since the moment I first laid eyes on you…”
Love…
It’s the first time he’s said that word, and if we weren’t sitting here like this, I might have a very seriously hard time figuring out how to respond to his declaration. But given what he just said—that I would hate him for it—I can’t waste a second answering.
“Why would I hate you for that?”
“Because”—he heaves in a breath, tears falling down his cheeks again—“it makes the second thing seem…calculated.”
Calculated?
It’s such an odd choice of words, and I can’t think of a single thing that Cam could have ever done that would have been calculated where his feelings for me are concerned—unless he lied completely about why he approached me that night and let things go that far.
Was it intentional?
Did he do it to get back at Drew for something or set out to fuck up our relationship?
My stomach turns, and I have to swallow back acid that threatens to come out as I stare at the completely broken man in front of me. The one I don’t recognize at all as the one I’ve come to know and care so much about.
“Cam, you’re scaring me…”
The booze. The drugs. His vague statements and this confession…
None of it is making any sense.
Cam’s gaze hardens, the blue shifting to an icy cold that sends a chill over me. “You should be scared, Ivy. Because I’m the reason Drew is dead. I killed him.”