ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟞𝟘 #3
His fingers wrapped around mine easily. I didn't pull away. I didn't even think about it anymore- that was probably one of the strangest parts about all this.
A few weeks ago, I would've noticed every little thing.
Whether he touched me, whether I touched him. How long, why, and what it meant.
Now sometimes he just reached for my hand and I held it. It felt normal.
We walked toward the building.
"Do you want me to carry you?"
I looked at him. "No, thanks."
"I could."
"No."
"Your feet hurt, right? Come on, I'll carry you."
"Cameron, no."
He smiled. "Okay."
We walked inside.
The receptionist looked up immediately. "Good afternoon."
"Hi," Cameron said.
"Hi." I smiled.
She checked the appointment schedule. "West?"
"Yes."
"You're all checked in," She smiled politely. "Mrs. Hastings will be with you shortly."
I nodded. "Thank you."
We sat down.
I immediately looked at the clock.
Cameron looked at me. "Stop doing that."
"I didn't do anything. Looking at the clock isn't illegal."
"You do it every time we come here."
"Because I like knowing how long I'm going to be here."
He leaned back. "An hour and thirty minutes."
"What?" I looked at him.
"That's how long we'll be here."
That sounded like forever.
I noticed the receptionist looked away. I suddenly realized we were probably being annoying and loud.
Well it wasn't my fault, lady!
I sat up straighter. "How's your day been?"
"Good," Cameron looked at me. "A little busy, but good."
"Busy with what?"
"Station stuff." He said.
"Anything exciting?"
"No."
"Anything annoying?"
"Brody and all of them."
I laughed. "Of course."
The door opened. Mrs. Hastings stepped into the waiting room.
She smiled when she saw us. "Hi, you two."
"Hey," Cameron said.
I smiled.
She looked at me first. "How are you, Dixie?"
I considered the question. I hadn't been doing bad. I was actually in a good mood for today.
"I'm doing great."
She smiled. "Good? And you, Cameron?"
"I'm good."
She nodded. "That's good."
We followed her into her room, and she shut the door behind us.
"Would either of you like to tell me where you left off?"
I sat up.
"Well, for starters, we're both apparently caught smashing into each other's faces on probably everybody and their grandmother's television right now."
Cameron looked at me. I ignored him.
"We went to that mayor event for Molly, and somehow it turned into people asking about our marriage and then Cameron kissed me in front of a bunch of cameras."
Mrs. Hastings nodded. "Okay."
"Oh! I also quit my job about a week ago, and I found an office today."
Her eyebrows lifted. "An office?"
"Yes. For my firm."
Cameron smiled.
Mrs. Hastings smiled. "You found a place you like?"
"Yes, very much. It's actually really nice."
Cameron nodded. "She loves it."
"I do," I looked back at Mrs. Hastings. "So that's where we are."
She smiled. "That's a good start."
"Anything else?" I sat back.
"No," Mrs. Hastings smiled. "All right."
She sat on her couch across from us. "I want to hear about the firm."
"Of course you do," I mutter. "Everybody wants to talk about it."
"It's an important milestone Dixie, don't you think?"
I shrugged. "I don't know yet."
"Don't listen to her. She knows." Cameron looked over at me.
I turned toward him. "Why are you talking so much today?"
"Because you're avoiding the question." He smiled.
"What question?"
"Why you quit."
I looked at him, then at Mrs. Hastings. "Well.."
He laughed, and Mrs. Hastings smiled.
"Dixie, you don't have to be defensive."
I sighed, leaning back into the chair. "I was tired. Really tired."
I rubbed my palms together. "I think I got used to being tired. I'd come home tired. Wake up tired. Go to work tired. Then I'd get angry because I was tired. Then eventually I realized I didn't even want to go back."
"Was that because of the firm?"
"Well that, and Ted. My boss."
Mrs. Hastings smiled slightly. "What happened with Ted?"
I made a face. I hated talking about the man now.
"He basically told me I had to work my way back up after I won the biggest case I'd ever handled."
I shook my head, laughing a little "Apparently winning doesn't count if your boss has already decided you're difficult."
Cameron snorted quietly.
I looked at him. "What was that for?"
"I'm agreeing with you." He smiled.
Mrs. Hastings looked at me. "And how did that make you feel, Dixie?"
I stared at her. "Annoyed, angry, and embarrassed."
Mrs. Hastings nodded. "Those are all very real feelings. What did quitting give you?"
"Space," The answer came quickly. "That's probably the best word for it. I mean, I don't have to wake up tomorrow and go back there."
Cameron smiled faintly.
I caught it. "What?"
"Nothing, I'm just happy for you."
I rolled my eyes. "See? He's annoying. Like a pest kind of."
Cameron laughed at that, running a hand through his golden hair.
Mrs. Hastings smiled. "You two are very different from when I first met you."
"Yeah," Cameron said quietly.
"Way better." I nodded.
Mrs. Hastings leaned back. "I agree with that."
"Which is why I don't understand why we're still doing this." I sighed.
Mrs. Hastings gave me a stern look. "Being better doesn't mean there's nothing left to discuss."
I sighed. "See? That's exactly what I mean."
"What do you mean?"
"These sessions," I gestured around the room. "I feel like a sick patient."
Mrs. Hastings smiled. "I'm not treating you like a sick patient."
"Well every time I come in here, I feel like something is wrong with me."
"Something isn't wrong with you. You and Cameron went through something serious."
I leaned back. "We're okay now."
"I can see that." Mrs. Hastings nodded.
"Then..."
She cut me off gently. "Dixie, listen to me. Being okay isn't the same thing as having talked about everything."
I wanted to open my mouth to say something back, but closed it. I hated when people made reasonable points. It was deeply inconvenient for me.
Mrs. Hastings looked between us. "There's something we haven't talked about."
Her voice softened. "Jordyn."
My stomach tightened.
Cameron's hand moved across the space between us. His fingers found mine, and I held on. Our hands settled together between us.
My stomach still hurt.
A familiar, dull, hollow twisting feeling that always came whenever her name entered the room.
Jordyn. My little girl.
Cameron looked at me again. I knew what he was asking without him saying it. Do you want to talk?
I squeezed his hand once.
He looked back at Mrs. Hastings. "I can."
Cameron took a slow breath. "Jordyn was...well, she was a lot."
A tiny laugh escaped him.
I smiled.
"A lot?" Mrs. Hastings repeated.
"Yeah," Cameron shook his head. "She had so much energy."
I laughed quietly. "Too much for a little girl."
"She got it from Dixie." He looked at me.
"She did not get that from me." I smiled.
Cameron continued. "She was always moving."
He looked at Mrs. Hastings. "She'd wake up really early. And we'd hear her running around upstairs. She used to come into our room and jump on the bed."
Cameron laughed. "At six in the morning."
"It was actually five. I could never get my beauty-sleep." I shook my head.
"She didn't understand why we wanted to sleep."
We both laughed. The laughter faded slowly.
Cameron's thumb moved against my hand. "She was healthy."
His voice changed slightly.
He looked down. "She was active. She ate well. She ran around all day. She went everywhere with us."
I nodded. "She was always fine."
"Yeah," He swallowed. "She was just...Jordyn, you know?."
His voice cracked slightly on her name.
I squeezed his hand as he took another breath. "And then one day she wasn't."
The room became very quiet.
Cameron continued. "It happened so fast. I remember that morning."
He laughed once, but there wasn't any warmth in it.
"She was running around like normal."
I smiled faintly. "She wanted pancakes."
"She always wanted pancakes." Cameron smiled. "Every morning. And they'd have to be blueberry or chocolate chip."
Then his expression changed again. "Later that day, she started acting strange."
I remembered. There was no way in hell I would forget. Some memories didn't fade no matter how much time passed.
"She complained that her head hurt. Not really bad at first. She said it hurt." Cameron said.
Mrs. Hastings remained silent. Cameron rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand.
"Then she got quiet."
I swallowed. "Jordyn was never quiet."
Cameron gave a small, broken laugh. "Exactly. She was never quiet."
I nodded.
"Then she started looking tired, " He took a breath. "At first we thought she was getting sick."
"Like the flu," I said quietly.
"Yeah." He nodded. "She was warm. She wasn't really herself."
His eyes dropped. "Then, uhm..she started having trouble talking. That was when I knew something was wrong."
He looked at Mrs. Hastings. "We took her to the hospital."
I stared at the carpet.
The pattern seemed very interesting. It was a bunch of blue and red. I hadn't noticed or paid attention to it before in this office.
Anything was better than looking directly at him while he talked about that day.
"Everything happened so quickly," he said.
"They ran a whole bunch of tests, and then they told us she was having a stroke."
The word landed heavily.
Stroke.
I've always hated that word. It was too ordinary for something that had changed our entire lives.
Cameron swallowed. "She was only five. I still don't understand it."
He laughed quietly through his nose, sniffling. "She was five years old."
His eyes were wet now, but he blinked through it. "She was supposed to be running around our house."
A tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it quickly with his free hand.
I moved closer without thinking. Our shoulders touched and bumped against each other.
"I keep thinking about how healthy she was, how much energy she had," he said.