26. “Broken” - Jonah Kagen
“Broken” - Jonah Kagen
Heath
Traffic crawls as I make my way downtown, and I wish I’d never agreed to meet Cami for lunch. She’s been bugging me since the weekend. I’ve been putting her off, but after everything that has happened with Walker, it will be good to cool things off between us.
Especially since Maeve has also taken to irritating the shit out of me, texting me several times a day to see when I’m going to get Walker’s notes to her.
My sister is even later than I am, which isn’t a surprise. She operates on her own time. My guess is she hasn’t looked at a clock since she was in school.
I follow the host to the table Cami reserved for us. It’s a two-top near the center of the restaurant, where a massive tree grows out of the floor and into the ceiling. They’ve created a compelling illusion, but since we’re thirty-some floors up, I hope no one is convinced that it’s real.
Growing up the sides of the tree is a massive amount of green ivy. It climbs all the way to the branches, making this place look like it walked right out of a Walt Disney movie. No wonder Cami picked it .
My old-fashioned is half-gone when she finally shows up. Her hair is flowing around her shoulders like a veil of gold. Loose, rust-colored pants hang from her hips, and she’s wearing a crocheted top that’s practically two triangles tied together with string. I’ve seen bikinis cover more.
“They let you in here like that?” I say, pointing as she sits down.
She laughs. “They know I’ll post a selfie in front of their plant wall. That alone will be responsible for the next 25 percent of their fiscal profits.”
Cami is a social media influencer, whatever the hell that is. She compares it to being a socialite like Lux, with flashier labels so the masses feel like they have a shot at becoming her.
She orders a virgin martini, and at my questioning look, says, “I’m on a health cleanse this month. No booze.”
Last month she only ate orange foods. The month before that she sipped every meal through a straw. I have no idea why she chooses to torture herself like this, but she seems happy.
When the server sets the drink down, I say, “You realize the only reason to drink a martini is for the alcohol, right?”
Cami takes a sip and makes a face. “I’m going to agree with you on that one.” She pops an olive into her mouth. “But we’re not talking about me today.”
Fuck. I should have seen this coming.
She points her toothpick at me. “I heard something.”
I give her my best bored expression. Past experience tells me she won’t drop this no matter what I do. My best option is to let her talk and get it over with as quickly as possible.
“Someone said Walker is back.”
“Yep,” I say.
Our server returns right then, and we both place an order. My sister’s requires multiple steps and a “Can you repeat that back to me?”
“Cami,” I chide quietly.
“What?” she says after the guy walks away. “I told you I’m on a cleanse.” She takes another sip of her martini. “A little bit of oil would ruin everything.”
I check the time on my watch. One more hour, and I can excuse myself.
“How’s Taylor?” I say.
“Uh-uh.” She shakes her head. “You are not distracting me. I want to hear all about Walker.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. There’s nothing to tell.”
“Bullshit,” she says, loud enough for patrons at the next table to glance over.
Sorry, I mouth to them. I give Cami a look that says Behave, or I walk.
She shrugs, completely nonplussed. “Have you seen her?”
“Who? Walker?”
She stops with her glass halfway to her mouth. “No, Queen Celia.” She takes a drink and lowers it back to the table. “God, Heath. I’m beginning to think you’re not over her after all.”
“I am,” I say. “And I have.”
Our server returns with a plate of hummus and pita crisps, both of which he assures Cami twice more were made without oil.
I bite into a crisp and fight a smile. There’s no way in hell they’re oil free.
Cami crunches into one as well. “Spill,” she says with her mouth full. What would her Instagram followers say if they could see her like this?
“I told you, there’s nothing to tell.”
“And yet you haven’t stopped fidgeting or checking your phone since I got here. ”
I didn’t realize I was doing either. But the truth is, as much as I don’t want to remember everything that went down with Walker in the past twenty-four hours, my body is not as willing to let the memories go. That scene in the shower with her may be the hottest thing I’ve ever done.
I exhale and dunk a crisp into the hummus. “We slept together.”
Cami chokes and reaches for her water. “You what ?”
“I’m not going to repeat it.”
“Wait, back up,” she says. “How long have you known she was back in town?”
I do a quick calculation in my head. “Two weeks.”
“And you’re just now telling me this?” she shrieks.
“I told you, there’s nothing to tell.”
“You just said you slept with her.”
Her voice isn’t as low as she thinks it is, and the couple at the next table gives her another look. She doesn’t even notice.
“So?” I take a drink. “I sleep with a lot of people.”
“Yeah, but none of them have broken your heart before.”
It’s still raining, but I wish we were outside. It’s too cramped in here, even though the room is two stories tall.
“I’ve moved on. It’s no big deal,” I say.
“Then why are you rubbing that tattoo like it’s going to kill you if you don’t get it off?”
I drop my hand. Why does she have to be so bloody aware of everything?
“Heath, what is going on?” She sheds the hippie, cool-girl act and turns into my big sister again. Her fingers close around my wrist.
I meet her gaze. “I don’t know,” I say. I rub my eyes, wishing I could rub the memories out as easily. “I’ve been taking her to do her research, and we’re reconnecting, and it’s just—” I sigh. I’m not sure what else to say.
“Are you finally going to tell me what happened between the two of you?”
I debate this. Cami won’t breathe a word to another soul, but I’m more worried that she’ll think less of me once she finds out. But what’s the sense in hiding the truth? It’s all going to come out eventually, and by then it will only devastate her more.
Our plates arrive from the kitchen—a boring-as-fuck salad for her and a steak for me. I wait until her mouth is empty before saying, “I cheated on her.”
She doesn’t choke this time, fortunately, but the look on her face is nearly as bad. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“I wish.”
“Heath, seriously. WTF?” Saying the actual letters out loud instead of what they stand for should be a key indicator someone is spending too much time on social media.
“I’m a dick.” I spear a piece of steak and pop it into my mouth. Let her think the worst of me. It’s not like it isn’t the truth.
“Is this because of Dad?”
I pause my cutting to frown at her. “Why would it be about Dad?”
“Because he’s the fuckup that fucked us all up?” she says.
I shake my head and return to my plate. “It has nothing to do with him.”
“You can’t let him destroy your relationships like that.”
“Cami, I told you. He has nothing to do with this.” I jab at my food.
She crams a massive forkful of spinach into her mouth. “You’re giving him space in your head,” she tells me. At least I think that’s what she said. It was muffled by her chewing.
“I don’t need your new-age mumbo jumbo,” I say.
She shakes her head, furiously trying to empty her mouth so she can talk again. “You should go to therapy. You’d be surprised at how much healing you can find there. ”
“I told you I don’t want that crap.”
“There’s this guy over on the west side who—”
“Cami, I mean it. Cut it out.”
She exhales loudly. “Fine. I won’t push you.” She takes a long drink of water. When she sets the glass back down, she has a funny look in her eyes. “By the way, I’m moving out.”
It’s my turn to choke. I set my knife down. “What?”
“Taylor got a three-bedroom. We’re going to make it work,” she says. I can tell she’s struggling to meet my eyes.
“That’s great,” I say. “I’m happy for you.” She should’ve moved out a long time ago. Now he won’t ever be able to put his hands on her again.
“You’re not upset?”
“That you’re getting away from the bastard? Hell no.”
Her expression grows more animated, and she reaches for my hands across the table. “You should move out too. You surely have enough to get your own place by now.”
“It’s not that.” I pull away. “I’ll do it eventually.”
She picks up her fork again, but only to swirl spinach through the dressing pooled on the bottom of her plate. “Why do you do this?”
“Do what?” I say.
“Not allow yourself things.”
I sit back in my chair. “I allow myself plenty of things, trust me. Have you seen my new bike?”
“Not the things you really want. Walker, moving out, being yourself.”
An uncomfortable feeling grows in my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s just another form of self-harm, Heath.”
“Is that what your therapist told you?”
“I care about you. You know that, right?”
“What’s your point, Cam? ”
She drops her fork and steeples her hands in front of her. “If you let Dad convince you that you don’t deserve good things in life, you’re letting him win.”
I frown while I consider this.
“Walker wouldn’t have broken up with you if you hadn’t cheated.”
Why does she think I did it?
“You two could have been happy together,” she says. “You broke up with her because you thought you didn’t deserve her.”
“Are you done psychoanalyzing me now?” I lift my drink to my lips, but it’s no longer cold. I flag the server down for another.
“Heath, come on. You know I’m right.”
“Let’s say you are.” I lean forward on the table. “I broke up with her because I’m fucked in the head. But the point remains: I’m fucked in the head, and sooner or later, she would have broken up with me anyway because of it. This saved us both from wasting more of our lives on each other.”
Cami gives me a droll expression. “So you’re planning to be alone forever?”
“Who knows? Maybe.”
“God, Heath. He screwed you over more than I realized.”
“At least I’m not the queen.” The server hands me a fresh drink, and I take several long swallows. “I can’t wait for the day the government finds out what he’s been up to.”
“How much do you think he’s evaded?”
I swirl the stirrer around my glass. “Ten, twenty mil?”
She scoffs. “It has to be way more than that.”
“You think?” I say, glancing up.
She fills me in on a few things I was unaware of—how much Dad’s income has increased since the pandemic, how his foreign bank accounts have doubled in number, and how he paid less in taxes last year than any other year to date .
“Juliette knows a lot more than me,” she says. “But good luck getting her to talk.”
Anger bubbles up inside me, like it does every time the conversation turns to our asshat of a father. “One of these days,” I mutter and finish my drink.
“Make sure you’re prepared to deal with the fallout,” she says.
“He needs to learn that he can’t always win.”
“Don’t let him take you down with him.” Cami gives me a stern look. “And I’m not talking about the money.”
My face says, I hear you loud and clear. You can stop talking about it now.
“I need to go.” She stands and drapes a slouchy bag across her body. “Give Walker another chance.”
“I’ll think about it.” I press a kiss to her cheek.
“More importantly.” She pats my chest. “Give yourself one.”