Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Camille
The One Where He Opened the Wound
You know what I don’t need after a day of back-to-back surgeries? Killion Crawford standing outside my door holding a takeout bag and a small jewelry box.
I’m exhausted, worn down from hours in the OR. All I want is to get inside, feed Ben before he decides to hold a grudge, and fall into bed. Instead, Killion is here. And damn it, he looks good. Very edible, not that I’m hungry. Okay, I might be a tad hungry since the last time I had sex was . . . well, I can’t even remember. It’s hard to find a guy who’ll take me seriously when I talk about tightening your vagina online more often that I want to.
Exhaustion is settling into my bones, but here he is, leaning against the wall like he stepped out of a fever dream I never wanted. His t-shirt clings in all the right places, his jeans are slung low on his hips, and somehow, even in something so simple, he looks like he’s trying to casually ruin my life.
Though, I’ll admit, the driver waiting for me outside the hospital with boba was a nice touch. After a day like today, it felt good to have someone think about me for a change. Not that I’d tell Killion that.
“Thank you for the driver,” I say, shifting the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder, ignoring how his eyes linger like he’s memorizing every detail. “And for the boba. It was . . . appreciated.”
“I’m glad I was able to help,” he says, his voice calm, like we’re old friends having a casual chat. “He’ll be at your disposal while you’re in New York.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because it’s safer,” he says, shrugging as if this isn’t a ridiculous conversation.
“I’m capable of walking,” I reply, cutting off whatever noble nonsense he’s about to spout .
“And you’ve got more than three million people following your every move on social media,” he counters. “I figured a driver could help . . . keep an eye on things. Mostly you.”
There it is. The hero complex. Classic Killion Crawford.
“What do you want?” I sigh, my patience thinner than surgical thread. I’ll fight the driver thing another day.
He holds up the bag. “Fries. They’re fresh. Eat them before they get cold.”
I blink at him, caught between irritation and confusion. “Are you bribing me with fries?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs again, too casual for a man holding a jewelry box. “Or maybe I just remembered how much you love fries. Especially when you’re exhausted.”
Damn him.
“Thanks,” I mutter, taking the bag because, well, he’s not wrong.
But before I can escape, he says, “Can we talk? Here, or inside. Your call.”
“Here,” I say quickly. No way am I letting him into my space. Ben might maul him, and frankly, I’m not sure who I’d root for.
Killion doesn’t argue. Instead, he steps closer, and I notice the box again. My stomach twists as he pops it open, revealing a ring.
It’s breathtaking: an emerald and diamond entwined like they were made to fit together. For a second, I forget how to breathe.
“I was twenty-one,” he starts, his voice low, intimate, like he’s telling me a secret. “And I met this girl who was smart, sharp-tongued, and hypnotizing. Watching her eat fries was . . . erotic.”
My eyes snap to his, and he smirks. The nerve.
“I didn’t want the night to end,” he continues, softer now. “I stayed in Boston, thinking I’d have more time with her. And then I fell. Hard. In love. Unexpectedly, completely. You were it for me.”
“Killion—” I start, but he holds up a hand.
“I thought I’d propose, you’d transfer to New York, and we’d get married. Live happily ever after.”
He looks at me, his expression raw. “But then my dad asked if I was going to be that selfish. Not in those exact words. He said you had a life, a plan, and it wouldn’t be fair to uproot you for me. And I believed him. I listened to him.”
The words feel like a scalpel cutting through old scars, too precise, too familiar.
His voice falters, and he closes the box with a quiet snap. “Up until then, he hadn’t steered me wrong. But he fumbled this. He didn’t know what I knew—that you were it for me. That I loved you more than anything. I broke your heart and mine because I thought it was the right thing to do.”
His words hit like a blow, cracking open a wound I thought had healed years ago. I’m not eighteen anymore, but right now, I feel just as confused and hurt as I did then. There’s no defense against the flood of emotions he’s unleashed. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. They crash over me, leaving me raw and exposed.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper, turning to unlock my door.
“Cam, please.” His voice cracks, a vulnerability I’ve never heard from him before.
“Not right now,” I reply, my voice shaking.
“Just give me a chance, baby,” he says. “Please.”
I stop and turn to face him. His eyes are bright, his shoulders slumped. For the first time, I see the boy who broke my heart—but now, I also see the pain he’s carried. The pain I was too hurt to notice back then.
“No,” I say, my voice firm despite the knot in my throat. “You need to give me at least a couple of days to process what you just told me, Killion. You had a ring. You took that choice from me. You decided for both of us, like I didn’t matter. But at the same time, I don’t know if the decision I would’ve made at eighteen is one I could trust now. I wouldn’t be who I am today if I had gone with you. I don’t play the what-if game because it gets you nowhere, but right now, I’m upset with you.”
He bobs his head, accepting what I’m saying without argument.
“I understand,” he says quietly. “But I’ll be here if you want to talk. Maybe it’s not about a second chance. Maybe it’s just about closure. Convince me that even though it was wrong, it was the best thing for you. ”
“No, it wasn’t. It will never be,” I say, the words rushing out like they’ve been waiting to escape for years. “You hurt me. You made me believe I wasn’t enough. Not after everything we . . . I trusted you. You made me trust you and fall in love with you.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, but it’s not enough.
I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes as I turn away. “I don’t know what to do with this, Killion. Stay away for now.”
And with that, I step inside, closing the door softly behind me.
On the other side, I hear him let out a long, shaky breath.
And for the first time in years, I wonder if letting him go all those years ago wasn’t just his mistake—but mine too.