Chapter 10 Ellie
Ellie
Ifight to hold back the tears burning in my eyes.
I’ve been on the phone with my insurance company for the past two hours, fighting with them after calling to see if they still covered the cost of an Epi-Pen. The one I have in case of emergencies is almost expired, so I need to get another one soon.
No matter how many times I explain how dangerous my allergies, I’ve gotten nowhere.
I’m just getting passed around from person to person.
Each one comes up with a different reason why they can’t cover it.
One says it’s because of an issue with the drug manufacturer.
Another says I need a new prescription written by my doctor, even though the one I have is still valid.
Another says that I have to pay a more expensive co-pay, but can’t give me a reason why.
I’m so frustrated, I want to scream.
When I get put on hold for the millionth time, I hang up out of sheer frustration. I cup my face in my hands and let out a sob.
I’m so sick of this. My whole life, I’ve had to navigate the shitshow that is health insurance, and it’s only gotten more difficult, more demoralizing.
I wipe my face and slump on the couch, feeling defeated and exhausted. So exhausted.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. But I have to keep fighting. I can’t afford an Epi-Pen without health insurance, and I need one on me always just to survive.
Just then, there’s a knock at my door.
I sit up, confused. I wasn’t expecting anyone.
When I go to the front door and look out the peephole, I see Camden standing there with what looks like a milkshake in his hand. Warmth flickers through my chest.
The second I open the door, his eyes go wide.
“Ellie, what’s wrong?”
I try to smile, but my lips are quivering with how hard I’m trying not to cry.
“Bad day.” My voice breaks.
A second later, he sets the milkshake on the nearby table and wraps his massive, muscled arms around. I sink into him, holding him tight. My entire body relaxes. The tension in my muscles from arguing with insurance reps all day fades away.
This is exactly what I need right now, a hug from my best friend.
I let out a soft cry into Camden’s chest.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” His voice is so soft and so calm and so comforting.
I let out a shaky breath and lean back to look at him. Gently, he swipes my hair out of my face and cups his hand over my cheek.
There’s a flash of pain in Camden’s focused gaze as he studies me. Like he it hurts him to see me upset. He had that same look in his eyes at the pharmacy when he defended me from that jerk. And when we sat in his car while I explained my disastrous medical and financial situation to him.
Tingles flash across my body. Usually when people find out about how dire things are with me and my health, they look at me with raw pity. I hate it.
But Camden isn’t like that. When he looks at me, there’s an intensity in his gaze. It’s protective and watchful and caring all at once. It’s like he’s channeling all this energy and focus into comforting me.
I like it. Too much.
“You brought me dessert?” I say in a weak voice.
“Banana shake with chocolate chips, no dairy. It was your favorite when we were kids. I was hoping you still like it now too.”
My tummy flips. I can’t believe he remembered that.
“What happened, Ellie?”
“Oh, the usual. Just fighting with my insurance company.” I sniffle.
His body stiffens against mine. “Are they refusing to cover your meds again?”
I nod. Anger flashes in his bright blue eyes. “Fucking assholes.”
He blinks, and the look in his gaze changes. It turns expectant. Pleading. I know exactly what he’s thinking about because I’m thinking about it too.
His proposal.
When he first asked me to marry him, I almost fell over from shock.
No way did Camden, hockey playboy and commitment-phobe, want to get married.
But then he explained himself. It wouldn’t be a real marriage—a marriage for love. It would be to help me.
All of my insides went warm and gooey when he said that. I couldn’t believe it. He was willing to do the one thing he swore he’d never, ever do for me.
But I couldn’t accept it. It was too generous. It would feel like I was taking advantage of him, even though he reassured me he didn’t see it that way at all.
But right now, when I’m so exhausted and defeated from fighting with my health insurance company and struggling just to keep myself afloat, the idea doesn’t seem so crazy.
“The offer’s still on the table, Ellie. We can still get married,” Camden says, as if he can read my mind.
Let out a shaky breath. I’m so close to saying yes…but there’s still a part of me that’s holding back.
“I’ll be honest with you, Camden. I really, really want to say yes.” I swallow, relishing the warmth of his hand on my cheek. “But I can’t do it if I’m the only one getting something out of this.”
“I’d be getting a lot out of it,” he says.
“Like what?”
“I want to be considered for alternate captain for my team, but I’m not in the running because of my…behavior.”
“What do you mean?”
He huffs out a breath, then chuckles like he’s embarrassed. “I’m a manwhore, Ellie. And no one takes me seriously because of it.”
He goes quiet for a moment.
“It’s my own fault. I’ve only ever been interested in hockey and having a good time off the ice,” he says. “But I want more than that. I want people to take me seriously. I want my teammates to look up to me like I look up to them.”
I take in the red flush painting his cheeks, the shy look in his eyes. He’s embarrassed to admit all this to me.
Something inside of me warms and softens. I looked him up on social media the day after we reconnected, and most of what I saw were photos of him partying, kissing, and flirting with beautiful women.
But that doesn’t matter. When it comes to what counts, he’s always done the right thing.
I think about all those times he’d get my homework assignments for me when I was too sick to go to school, without me even asking.
I remember how, in second grade, when one of our classmates was making fun of me for being small for my age because of my illness, Camden shoved him to the ground and called him a jerk.
He got detention for it, but he didn’t care. He said it was worth it.
And there was another time when he noticed one of our friends in school started bringing less and less food every day for lunch. When Camden asked why, our friend said it was because his dad lost his job and they didn’t have much money. So Camden started bringing two lunches to share with him.
Yeah, Camden’s a little wild, but he’s a good person to the core. He always has been. And everyone around him should look up to him for it.
“If I get married, it’ll show that I’m mature. That I’m done messing around and ready to be taken seriously,” Camden says. “I’d have a shot at making alternate captain, something I’ve wanted my whole life.”
He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “So, see? I’d be getting something out of this too. If we got married, we’d be helping each other.”
I’m quiet as I take in his words. Now that Camden’s admitted all this to me, the idea of getting married seems a lot more appealing.
“If we do this, Camden, we need to work out all the details,” I say. “We’d need to come up with a convincing story to tell our family and friends.”
“We’ll tell everyone that we reconnected after the bachelor party and fell madly in love.”
I can’t help but chuckle at the cheeky grin on his face. “You don’t think that seems kind of fast?”
He just shrugs, still grinning. “We were best friends as kids. That’s a built-in backstory for us.”
When I don’t say anything, he says, “We’ll tell everyone I had a huge crush on you as a kid, and when we met again as adults, I didn’t want to waste any more time. I wanted to be with you.”
I smile at how sweet and romantic that is.
A second later, my brain catches up. He never had a crush on me; he’s just coming up with a convincing story to tell people.
I clear my throat, embarrassed that I lost myself in that little fantasy. “Yeah, okay. That works. What about everything else?”
“What else is there?”
“Our living situation. If we get married, we’ll have to live together.”
“You can move in with me,” he says without missing a beat.
“You’d be okay with that?”
He flashes that easy smile. “Of course I’d be okay with that. I have three guest bedrooms. You can take whichever one you want.”
“Okay, well, what about PDA? If we’re married, people will expect us to be affectionate with each other.” I swallow, nervous at the thought. “But, um, I don’t want to, like, make out in public…”
“That’s okay. We don’t need to take things that far. What are you comfortable with?”
My nerves ease at how he’s letting me call the shots on this.
“Hugging and hand-holding are good with me,” I say. “How about you?”
He grins. “You know I’m a hugger. And I’m good with hand-holding.”
“I’m okay with kissing on the lips. Just, um, no making out.”
“That’s okay with me too.”
I look at him. “Really?”
He nods, that easy smile still on his face. “Of course I am.”
I’m surprised at how easily this is all coming together.
He chuckles. “Do you not believe me?”
I shake my head. “It’s not that. I just don’t want to feel like you’re doing all this to appease me.”
His expression turns warm. “I promise I’m not. But you know me. I’m an easy-going guy. I’m okay with anything as long as you’re good with it.”
Comfort swoops through my chest at just how amazing my best friend is.
I’m quiet for a second. “What about seeing other people?”
His smile fades. “What do you mean?”
“Do you want to see other people while we’re married? We won’t actually be in a romantic relationship, so if you happen to meet someone that you have a genuine connection with or feel attracted to, I’d feel bad if you couldn’t pursue anything with them because you’re married to me.”
“Oh.” His eyebrows knit together like he’s bothered by the thought of that. He shakes his head. “Ellie, I’m not interested in being with anyone else while I’m with you.”
Tingles scatters through my chest at the conviction in his tone. It sounds like he really likes me.
As a friend. He’s helping you out as a friend.
That tingly feeling fades at that quiet reminder.
“I won’t date anyone while we’re married either,” I say.
A soft smile plays on his lips. “Okay. Good.” He almost looks relieved. I’m probably reading too much into it.
I take a moment to mull it all over. If we do this, if we actually get married, it can’t be for long. I don’t want to be fake married to Camden any longer than I have to be. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of him, and just thinking about that makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
“We stay married for one year. That’ll give me enough time to start paying down my medical debt and save some money for a place of my own.
And maybe even start my own pet sitting business,” I say.
“And by then, you’ll be alternate captain after showing your team and coaches how much you’ve changed. ”
“So we’ll get divorced after a year?” Camden says.
I nod. “But it’ll be amicable. We’ll stay friends.”
The smile he gives me is warm. “Of course we will.”
I stand there and look at Camden. We’re really doing this.
He grabs my hand gently in his, his mouth tilted up in his trademark cheeky grin. “You ready to marry me?”
I bite back a smile. “Yeah.”