Chapter 7 Cam
CAM
ONE WEEK LATER
No matter how many times I’ve seen this painting, the countless hours I’ve sat here, staring at it over the years—or looking at it online when I felt the urge to see the brutality and fall into self-reflection from somewhere else in the world—I always manage to find something new that I didn’t notice before.
Prometheus’s bicep tense and rippling with his pain…
The veins bulging in his forearm as he fights the torture…
How tightly his hand clenches in agony…
The eagle’s talon digging impossibly deep into his eye as it tears his liver from his abdomen…
All those little intricacies that make it so gruesome and so beautiful all leap out at me now, and I can’t tear my eyes away from it.
It doesn’t matter how often I’ve examined it; it still captivates me, still draws me in, still makes me question every decision I’ve ever made in my life.
Especially on a day like today.
When I have to take this step and face one of those unintended consequences I’ve been putting off for far too long.
At least my spiral last week proved a positive step in one regard; it’s forced me to do something I should have a long time ago—make amends.
I hurt so many people while I was caught in the throes of my addiction, and I spent so much time focused on getting clean and staying clean for one reason that I ignored all the other damage I caused along the way to others.
But not anymore.
Finally revealing the full truth to Ivy and Mom ripped open something that I can’t hold closed with sheer will any longer. I have to do something to try to stem the bleeding.
Otherwise, I’ll be stuck just like Prometheus, in this endless loop of agony.
The click of heels against the museum floor announces Roxy’s arrival before she rounds the bench and stops in front of me with a little grin tilting her lips. “I’m glad you called.”
I return the smile and motion for her to sit next to me.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner. Things have been…
” I shrug and scrub my hand over my cheek, which is covered with several days’ worth of stubble.
It’s impossible to describe how awful the past week has been.
Sleepless nights and tormented days. Indecision and restlessness.
The only things that have kept me grounded are Mom, meetings, and the knowledge that it is in my power to face all the things I did and do what I can to rectify them.
With Ivy, that’s impossible, but with Roxy, I can at least try. “Things have been a little crazy.”
She settles next to me, crossing her long legs, exposing the smooth expanse of skin up to her thigh where the hem of her dress rests at a barely decent level.
The delicate heels on her feet scream sexy yet professional, exactly what she has always been.
Wicked smart and talented, not to mention stunningly beautiful.
Any man would be lucky to lock it down with her.
But she was never the woman who held my heart, even though I always cared about her as a good friend.
Her gaze rakes over me, taking in every detail of my appearance, which I’m sure is as haggard as I feel. “Good crazy or bad crazy?”
“A little bit of both.” Because it was good to finally see Mom and get everything off my chest with her. But everything else… “Mostly bad.”
Really bad.
Roxy winces, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
I nod as I lower my elbows onto my knees and rest my face in my palms. “You’ve got a little bit of time?”
Her eyes dart to her watch, and she nods. “Yeah, I’m on my lunch break, so do you want to go somewhere and grab a bite?”
“I’d rather talk here, if that’s all right.”
Something about being in front of this painting helps focus me, drowns out that demon settled on my shoulders that whispers in my ear nearly constantly now, despite all my best efforts to silence him.
I look over at her and find her brow furrowed, eyes narrowed on me.
Roxy leans closer. “What’s going on with you, Cam? When I saw you here, I told you I’d been worried about you, and it’s true. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since then.”
I nod and swallow through the tightness in my throat.
“Me, too.” Ever since my talk with Ivy and then Mom, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the other people I’ve hurt, whom I care about.
All those who cared about me, too, but who got bulldozed by my addiction—to drugs and Ivy. “I owe you an apology.”
Her eyes flare wide. “For what?”
“You know for what.” Tension seeps into my shoulders, stiffening them and tightening my neck as the memory of the night we spent together that never should have happened flashes vividly through my mind.
“What happened between us, it…” I shake my head, trying to clear away another mistake that had unintended consequences.
“It wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have allowed it to go that far, not when I was so fucked up and I knew how you felt about me. ”
She presses her lips together firmly, tilting her head slightly as she assesses me.
Roxy has always been incredibly observant.
Even back in art school, she was constantly analyzing everything and everyone, pointing out flaws in their artwork, not because she was trying to be mean or rude but because she could see things others could not.
It’s part of the reason we became such good friends.
I trusted her to tell me the truth, even if I didn’t like it.
Yet, I never told her the truth about what was happening with me when I crossed that line that had been drawn in the sand with her.
Her gaze sweeps over me, as if she’s seeking some physical evidence of what I was going through when I made that very unwise decision with her. “How bad was it?”
Shit.
I scrub my hands over my face and sigh. “Bad.”
By the time I heard they were engaged, I had fallen so far down the dark hole of addiction that it felt impossible to climb out of it.
I scraped and clawed at vertical walls, trying to do just that, ripping my fingertips apart and get nowhere.
Only the driving need to see Ivy again and reveal the truth to her, to stake my claim and voice my intent to fight for her, got me through the physical and emotional agony of changing my life.
“I heard you went to rehab not long after.”
Nodding, I run my hand through my hair, cracking my neck. “I did.”
Because what happened with Roxy was part of that wake-up call.
She was my friend. One of the people closest to me. One of the few who knows I am Cush and who I could ever trust with that secret. Yet I used her as if she were nothing more than a warm body to keep me distracted from what I really wanted.
One of her brows rises. “And then you came back home?”
I nod, rubbing at the tension in my neck. “And then I came back home and did even worse things than I did when I was using.”
So much worse.
Those years I allowed myself to be sucked into that dark vortex, I made many mistakes and did countless things I regret. But it all pales in comparison to what my selfishness has done to Drew, Ivy, and Mom.
I finally got myself back on track, but that track led in only one direction—toward a woman I never should have wanted or tried to take.
Now we’re all suffering because of it.
Roxy winces, wrapping her manicured fingers around the edge of the bench we’re sitting on. “Oh. This have anything to do with the girl who was with you when you were here last?”
It has everything to do with her.
It always has.
I nod and blow out a long breath. “She was my brother’s fiancée.”
Roxy’s eyes widen, and she whistles, drawing the attention of a few patrons walking by and examining other pieces. Once they’ve reached a safe distance from us, she leans a bit closer, offering me a sympathetic smile. “All I heard was that he passed away…”
My eyes start to burn, and I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the boulder suddenly sitting there. “Yeah. A car accident.”
“Were you and he able to resolve your differences before that?”
This woman wasn’t only my confidant when it came to my secret artistic identity.
She was there more times than I can count when I just needed to vent to someone.
Though I never told her the whole story about the rift with Drew, she knew I had done something to drive that wedge between us that he thought was unforgivable.
Or at least, I thought he believed that…
Though, now I know how wrong I really was.
The image of the doll sitting in that box flashes before my eyes, and the room starts to blur as tears well.
I was so wrong about everything…
My gaze sweeps up to Prometheus’s plight again before moving over to Roxy, who genuinely cares even after I broke her heart by rejecting her after our one night together.
I ruined our friendship because I wasn’t in control.
Because I let my feelings for Ivy and frustration about the situation with Drew get the best of me and turn me into somebody I wasn’t before.
It’s what prevented me from reaching out to Drew, too.
“We weren’t, unfortunately.”
Her gaze softens, and she squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry. I know you two were close for so long. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to have lost him when you weren’t on good terms. Is there anything I can do?”
I shake my head. “No, but I appreciate the offer. I’m just trying to make things right as much as I can, and it turns out there are far too many unintended consequences for me to do that.”
Not in ten thousand lifetimes.
I gaze up at the painting, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her head turn to it, too.
Her lips tilt slightly, but the smile isn’t warm. It’s hard. Contemplative as she examines it, even though she sees it every day. “Prometheus Bound. That’s what it’s about, isn’t it? Unintended consequences?”
I nod, and she tilts her head, cutting her gaze to me.
“Do you know why Zeus chose this punishment for him?”
“Yes.” I nod slowly. “I’ve read the play.”
She laughs lightly. “I found it a little boring, to be honest, but my understanding is that the liver is regarded by the Greeks as the holder of intelligence, the soul, the heart of life, so to speak. And so, when Zeus set this perpetual torture, Prometheus’s regenerating liver every day for the eagle to devour again and again and again, he was striking at the very things that made Prometheus so captivated by man.
The intelligence he gave them, the art he gave them that spoke to their souls, the life he gave man by allowing them to thrive in beauty.
” Her eyes lock on me, and even with my focus straight ahead, I shift restlessly under her scrutiny and the topic of conversation. “You know you do that, right?”
I turn my head fully toward her, unsure where she’s going with this. “What do you mean?”
A sad smile pulls at her lips. “You give people art. You speak to their souls. I’ve watched you grow since art school, and even though I know better than to reveal your secret, I can’t help but want to scream from the rooftops that ‘I know him!’ Because God, you’re so fucking talented.”
My cheeks heat at the compliment, and I drop my head down. “I didn’t come here looking for compliments, Roxy.”
“I know that, but it’s still true. Your pieces, especially the ones you leave in the most unexpected of places, always have a message people need to see.
Something poignant about life, the struggle of man, love, regret.
All the things we all feel and sometimes can’t express.
” She releases a little laugh. “You somehow do it with something simple like a little girl holding a balloon. We all remember what that felt like as a child. The simple joy of clutching that string in our tiny hand and having the colorful friend floating along with us. It said so much so simply, that we all needed to remember those moments when our struggles made the world seem bleak. That’s why people love your work, Cam.
And we haven’t seen much from you lately… ”
I offer her a wry grin. “My recent works aren’t really fit for public consumption.”
Not when they’re all Ivy and have been for years.
Roxy offers me a tight smile. “Well, I hope that changes soon and that you’re back to being the Cush we all need and love.”
Love?
Did she love me?
I knew she had feelings for me beyond friendship. We had danced around it over the years, flirting and casually joking about hooking up. But neither of us ever took that leap. Until I was already falling and looking for anything to cling to.
“I really am sorry about everything.”
She leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“I’m a big girl, Camden. I knew something was happening with you.
I didn’t understand the depths of your addiction, or I would have tried to intervene, but I knew that night that you weren’t running to me but from something.
” Her slender shoulders rise and fall. “I think, deep down, I had hoped things might change between us after that. They didn’t, and that’s okay.
I still value our friendship. And I hope now that we’re both here in Philly, things won’t be awkward. ”
I shake my head, my heart swelling at how easily she’s willing to forgive me when I don’t really deserve it. “They won’t.”
Because besides Mom, she’s the only person I have left in this world I can turn to, and one day, I may come completely clean with her about what went down with Drew and Ivy, though I have a feeling she already suspects as much.
She climbs to her feet. “Good.” Facing me, she smiles. “Now, I’m starving. If we’ve gotten over the whole making-amends portion of my lunch hour, let’s go down and at least get a coffee at the café.”
I grin at her. “Deal. But I’m buying. I owe you at least that much.”
Her light laughter fills the gallery. “Well, in that case, you can buy me something to eat, too.”
Pushing to my feet, I can’t help but allow my gaze to fall back onto the painting where the eagle feasts on the source of Prometheus’s wisdom and what holds his soul.
For years, it’s felt as though I was being picked at, something eating away at me from the inside, but now that I know the truth about how Drew felt and what I caused, it’s suddenly become so much worse.
That bird looks harmless compared to the demons tearing me apart.