Chapter Twenty-Five. Forbearance
Chapter Twenty-Five
FORBEARANCE
June disappeared in a haze of humidity, but it left Cam with the change she desperately needed.
New hair, a new tattoo, and she returned to a daily writing schedule.
The outline she’d been working on for weeks had blossomed into something sophisticated, something intricate, with fully formed characters and kingdoms. The voices in her head finally had names, and faces, and pasts she was ready to transcribe.
And while she worked hard on her writing endeavors, she worked even harder at Beau’s.
She put nearly every penny she made into paying off her credit card debt, reveling in the temporary period without rent and utilities eating up her entire income.
She coasted on her brief loan deferment, living in a fantasy world where the pause was a hard-earned break, and not a Band-Aid solution that’d end up costing her more in interest down the road.
It’d be future Cam’s problem. Everything was future Cam’s problem.
That was the attitude she’d taken when she went the private route for college, over going in-state and saving money. That was the attitude she’d taken when she majored in something she didn’t care about because she didn’t know what else to do.
That was the attitude she’d taken when she slipped her hand into Danny’s boxers and grabbed his hard cock, begging him to fuck her like an animal in heat.
Because of all the changes in June—the hair, the tattoo, the single cigarette she smoked …
Nothing compared to her night in bed with Danny.
They spent nearly every minute of every day together. They lived together, they traveled together, and even when she was working, 75 percent of the time he was around, talking to customers or handling something behind the scenes.
He was ever-present, always visible in her line of sight, like the blackbird tattoo on her wrist. And so, July started just as June ended, with her thoughts and sights on Danny, a dangerous cycle she couldn’t break no matter how hard she tried.
“Cam!”
She jolted forward, tightening her hold on her tray as she nearly rammed into a large group of customers. After offering a hushed apology, she waited patiently as they weaved through the tables in the dining room. She was sweating bullets, and the heavy load on her tray wasn’t helping her mood.
Xavier put a steadying hand on her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You okay?” he asked. He was all decked out for the Fourth of July holiday, wearing his red Beau’s T-shirt with a temporary tattoo of fireworks on his cheek. “You’ve been kinda out of it lately.”
He was right. Because since that night with Danny, things were different, even if she’d promised herself they wouldn’t be.
Danny acted the same, as if their evening in bed never happened, but she couldn’t look at him without remembering.
Every peek of him shirtless, post-run, pre-shower, at bedtime …
They commandeered her fantasies, feeding every disgusting, explicit, pearl-clutching dream she had.
It was exactly what she didn’t want to happen.
Reckless.
All so fucking reckless.
And now, she was in the midst of the busiest week of the summer season, and her head was in the clouds.
“I’m fine,” she promised, struggling to hold her tray steady as the party of twelve continued funneling out. “Just … hot. It’s warm in here.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve refilled my water bottle twice, and all it’s done is sent me to the bathroom like six times.”
With the crowd finally gone, she delivered the food and went to the deck to check on her outdoor tables. After confirming the parties were good, she took a moment to enjoy the salty air and ocean breeze.
“I know it’s a lot,” Xavier said, joining her by the deck railing.
“But tips this week are usually crazy. My boyfriend and I do an annual trip with our friends, so that always helps process these long days.” He laughed.
“I paid for a huge chunk of our winter vacation to Europe last year with what I made. So, it’s like every refill of iced tea I run back to a table of rowdy tourists is a cup of mulled wine at a Christmas market in Vienna. ”
Cam swallowed. “You travel with your friends every year?”
“Yeah! There’s five of us. We grew up together. We’re all over but every year, we try to go somewhere fun. Two years ago was Vegas, last year was Paris and Vienna during Christmastime, and this year, we’re doing ten days in Seoul in September.”
“That’s awesome.” Her smile was performative. The nervous sweat beading across her skin was not. “Sounds like fun.”
She’d never been to any of those places. She’d never even left the country, minus that spring break in Mexico. And despite years of fantasizing about traversing the globe together, her friends hadn’t booked a trip after that fateful week in Tulum.
Not that she’d be able to afford it. Not now, and based on her debt, maybe not ever.
“This week, we do ground fireworks on the beach,” Xavier added, pointing to a Fourth of July picnic some tourists were having on the sand, “and we can see the town ones, too. Those happen early, right when the sun has set. But around nine, Danny and the college kids set the beach up. Last year, JP planned a sparkler sendoff. It was pretty rad.”
Cam nodded, dazed. Fireworks. Independence Day. Summer break.
Fun. So fun.
Except every day of her life increased her debt at a rate she couldn’t catch up with. The financial freedom promised in adulthood was dangled in front of her, but it was out of reach, offered to her in a year so distant in the future, the number combination had never crossed her mind.
Xavier said something about checking on his tables and disappeared. She barely paid him any attention, instead watching the beachgoers on the sand. Unsteady, her legs wobbled and sweat slicked her Beau’s T-shirt to her back.
I told everyone if you didn’t pick up, I’d be on the first flight back.
That would be my new car. Isn’t she a beauty?
The nicest thing I own are my running shoes. Those cost me two hundred bucks.
The crashing waves were as wild as her thoughts, tainting every smooth stretch of sand. Twenty-six. She was weeks away from twenty-six and she couldn’t afford a last-minute flight. Or a new car. Or a $200 pair of sneakers. Certainly not a grand trip abroad with her friends.
Certainly not a Rhode Island beachfront wedding.
And if not at twenty-six, then when?
Dizzy, she clung to the railing, leaning into it until the wood dug into her breastbone. The thud of her heartbeat was unnaturally fast, a sledgehammer at a concrete wall, a prisoner desperate to escape.
Desperate to run away, to start over, to rest.
Because she had vertigo the longer she climbed, and no matter what she did, she always tumbled back down to the ground.
Wetness burned her cheeks, and it took her a minute of frantic breathing to realize she was crying. When something touched her back, she jumped, panicked, until two strong arms wrapped around her.
“Hey,” Danny whispered, holding her tight. “Cam, I got you. Are you okay?”
She stared up at him, shaking her head because no, she wasn’t okay. She knew she was standing on the deck and yet, her feet didn’t feel like they were on the ground.
“I’ve got you.” He rubbed her back. “Take deep breaths for me.”
As she breathed, big brown eyes watched her, wide with concern.
She relaxed into him, and when he led her away from the deck, from the tables and curious customers, she didn’t put up a fight.
When they reached his office, he helped her settle on the couch.
He sat beside her, repeating his same guidance as before.
Five minutes of gentle coaxing and steady breathing later, she was feeling better.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She hugged the water bottle he handed over, letting the cool body rest against her neck. “I’m okay.”
“Has that happened before?”
“No.”
She was pathetic. A self-obsessed, first-world brat, blubbering because she couldn’t afford to gallivant across the Christmas markets in Europe, drinking mulled wine and catching snowflakes on her tongue.
Because her friends weren’t like Xavier’s, available for annual trips to the most entertaining corners of the globe.
Because she couldn’t afford a night in a hotel or a dinner at a fancy restaurant, let alone the cost of the emergency room if she sprained an ankle.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
Cam glanced at Danny and then away, ignoring her fresh tears.
“I don’t know what happened,” she whispered.
“Xavier was talking about the tips this week and how they helped pay for a trip with his friends last year. I started thinking about how we never traveled anywhere after Tulum. How I’ve never been to Europe because I can’t afford it and how that’s not going to change anytime soon.
Because every day I’m drowning, and it’s like no matter what I do, I’m barely staying afloat.
I’m four years out of college, Danny. Four years.
And I’ve only paid two thousand dollars off my principal loan amount.
Except”—she was laughing and crying at the same time—“I refinanced, and that principal amount is my old principal plus my interest during school. So actually, I’ve never touched my real principal amount, even though I’ve paid tens of thousands of dollars at this point.
And don’t even get me started on all the shit they’re doing with federal loans. ”
He frowned, his hand stilling on her back. “Cam…”
“I told you I was having money problems. That was an understatement.”
“Then talk to me.”