Chapter Twenty Two #2

Cam. Always. Since we were little kids… I mean, we all loved Rory.

But Cam… it was just different," he says.

I don't say a word. I just

listen, trying to understand.

Chip sighs again. "It's

not like he talked about it. It was just obvious to most of us. In

the way he treated her, the way he talked about her. He spent most

of his time with her… He was my best friend, but she was his best

friend. We were all close, but he just… he lived for her. That's

the best way to explain it.

"Cam was the shit, too. He

was good at sports, ridiculous at football, he just wasn't as into

it as he should have been. He liked writing shit, had a journal.

Never let me near the thing… And Rory loved him, too…"

My heart stills. I hold my

breath. I hate hearing about her feeling for another guy the way

she's supposed to feel only for me. I know it isn't fair to be

upset over her past. But it's not like I'm angry with her. I'm just

jealous that another man had her heart before I did, when she's the

only one to have ever even come anywhere near mine.

"But not like he loved

her… She was also na?ve. You know, she was friends with all guys,

and we were talkin' about her tits before she even realized we'd

noticed she'd grown them."

He stops talking abruptly

when he realizes I'm barely holding myself back from clocking him.

I know how twelve year old boys talk about girls, and the thought

of him talking about Rory like that makes my already doubly pissed

off mood land straight into fucking mad.

I notice Chip swallow

nervously, and though I'm trying my damnedest not to show my

feelings about that last fucking comment he made about Rory, I'm

not sure I succeed.

"We were guys, and we

didn't talk about this stuff in front of her, so no one did. Until

she started hanging out with these bitchy chicks junior year. That

includes her dickhead ex's extra-bitchy sister. So Rory kinda went

from innocent late bloomer to thrown to the fuckin' wolves in a

matter of months."

Fuck.

When he lays it all out

there for me it fucking guts me all over again. But my brewing rage

subsides, because as painful as it is to listen to, I'm glad he's

not sugarcoating it. I'm glad he's telling me exactly how it all

went down. Because Rory's told me her side, but there are points of

view she doesn't understand. After all, she doesn't always see

herself clearly. But I do. And I think maybe this Chip character

does as well, and I soften marginally toward him.

"But we didn't know that

at the time. Honestly? At first they seemed real happy together.

Forbes seemed to treat her like a princess. And Cam, Cam loved her.

He wasn't selfish. And he wasn't going to fuck with her

relationship if she was happy.

"It was difficult to

watch, man, to be honest. Especially because he wouldn't talk about

it, and he's kind of like you—not the kind of guy you want to

push," he says.

That earns him the vaguest

of half-smiles, but it's impressive nonetheless.

"And look, as soon as that

ended, Cam was gone, so… I don't know what would have happened, and

I suppose most of this conflict you're obviously dealin' with over

it is because she doesn't either. But I know Rory Pine, and you

can't let her go on feelin' guilty over a future that won't happen.

Because you would've been somewhere else, maybe with someone else, if that all

didn't go down and she didn't move here to meet you, either. She

ain't gonna get mad at you for a future you won't have, and she

should know you won't either."

He trails off, taking a

deep, settling breath. I'm not surprised he picked up on my

insecurities, but I wonder how he knows about Rory's guilt. I knew

she blamed herself for Cam's death, but I only suspected she's been

having a hard time reconciling it—and the complicated way they left

things—with our relationship.

Either way, I don't bother

telling him that if I never met Rory I may very well be fucking

someone else, but I wouldn't be with someone else. There

never was anyone

for me before Rory. Most of me wants to tell him to mind his own

goddamned business, but then, I'm the one who brought it up. And

the truth is he's vaguely amusing to me. He's gotten himself worked

up. All protective over Rory. He doesn't want me to let her

continue to feel guilty. But I want to laugh at him.

Silly idiot, if I knew how

to erase all of her undeserved guilt, the right words to say to

make her see sense, I would have done it long ago. Still, I stay

silent, waiting for him to continue, if he will

continue.

Finally he sighs. "I know

he was in love with her. I know she loved him, but… I don't think

she was in love

with him. I think when it's like that for you, you know it. But she

didn't even realize what Cam was harborin' for her, until maybe at

the very end, though I ain't even sure about that. And it wasn't

exactly the town's best-kept secret, if you get my drift. And I

think if she felt like that for him, then she would've noticed. It

would've been on her radar. No one knew her better than Cam

did. If she was in love with him, he'd have known it, and he woulda

done somethin' about it," he says.

I like his logic, but

then, I have reason to like it. I want to believe in it.

But there's still that

missing piece. The one I can't make sense of. "What about

that— I mean,

Forbes? She says she

hates him…" I don't tell him my concerns, I just lead him in and

wait to see his response.

His eyebrows raise in

surprise. "I would say that's probably an

understatement."

"You don't think there's

anything lingering there?" I ask when he doesn't give me anything

more than the obvious.

He turns and glares at me,

and again I wish he would keep a better eye on the damn road. But

his glare seems to ask me if I'm out of my mind. Maybe I am.

But…

"She had his tee shirt

next to her bed. It doesn't make sense," I tell him finally, hoping

he'll be able to offer some unfathomable explanation for why Rory

would have the keepsake of someone she despises, someone who abused

her horribly, next to her goddamn bed.

"How do you know it was

his?" Chip asks.

"It was his football tee.

Number twenty two." God knows I'll never forget that.

Chip lets out a short

laugh and shakes his head, muttering something to himself I can't

make out, though I'm sure it's safe to assume it's at my expense.

"That ain't Forbes's," he says simply.

He's finally looking at

the road while I stare at the side of his face, waiting for an

elaboration. He takes his fucking time.

"Forbes was number twelve.

Twenty two was Cam."

It's such an obvious

explanation that it slaps me in the face. But it doesn't make me

feel any better. In fact, it all but undoes the vague relief his

earlier logic provided. Of course, Cam was her best friend, so I

have no right to be jealous that she held on to something of his. I

just wish it wasn't kept so intimately next to her bed. Or that he

was a chick.

"She would have been happy

with him," I murmur, almost to myself. It's not a question, but

then, it also is.

Chip chews on his lip. "If

Cam had just told her, things would have turned out differently.

But I think he was afraid to mess with what they had. And I get it,

it was special. Who wouldn't want to have something like that? But

if he had just manned the fuck up years ago... they could have been

happy," he confirms.

I don't know why it

matters. He's gone. She's mine. She loves me.

"Sure, I suppose you and

her never would've happened. But she also never would've started

seein' Forbes. Cam wouldn't have been driving out that mornin'…

everything would've been just different, like I said," Chip says

all this like it's not ripping me the fuck apart to hear

it.

I glare at him, hating the

knowledge that Rory could have been happy with another man, that

she could have loved him more than she does me. Maybe she just

never had the chance. I can't help but wonder if I'm the

consolation prize, and if maybe she would have been better off with

him.

"They were supposed to be

together."

Okay, now he's just being

a dick. "Fuck you," I tell him.

He shakes his head, but

there's no jest to him. If anything, he's the most serious I've

seen him. "No. You miss my point. They were supposed to be

together. It was the will of the universe—fate, God, whatever you

believe in. And them not getting together, it fucked everything up.

It made Rory vulnerable to that piece 'a shit Forbes, it put Cam in

that car…"

I rake my fingers through

my hair and grit my teeth.

"It wasn't easy to watch

unfold, ya know. My best friend lovin' his best friend, having to

put up with their super bond like a constant third wheel. Then

watchin' him watch her with another guy, see her slowly withdraw

from both of us. And how Cam suffered through it all—screwin'

around twice as much and drinking twice that. I can't even imagine

what it was like for him to find out what'd been happenin' to his

Rory girl. It fuckin' killed me, and—shit…" He trails off, overwhelmed at

some memory.

I've heard Rory and Cam's

super best friendship described what feels like a hundred goddamned

times by now, and it never fails to make me insanely jealous and

insecure. But right now I pity him. I know how I felt when she'd

told me about the hell that motherfucking

bastard put her through. I can't imagine

having been right there, and then knowing I could have done

something to stop it… that's a fucking lot to live with.

"Yeah," I

exhale.

Chip pulls off the exit to

head back to our hotel and doesn't say another word until we're

stopped at a red light. He looks at me intently then.

"What's done is done,

though," he says.

I blink at him.

"Things are different now.

I didn't expect to find her like this. I mean, she's still dealin'

with a lot, obviously."

Obviously.

"But she's happy. You make

her happy."

I stare at him, unable to

find words, not when his are so close to what I want to

hear.

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