Chapter 41 #2
Cameron barely looks up, just nods. Willow, though—she bounces to her feet and wraps her arms around me.
Always with the hugging, this one. Used to make my skin crawl, but whatever.
She's genuine, I'll give her that. Plus she smells expensive, like some boutique perfume that's all sandalwood and jasmine.
"Bye, Tally!" Her voice is sunshine and puppies. “’Next Saturday’s Santa day with Brinley—it'll be magical!"
I end up at Celeste's without even meaning to, like my Jeep has a mind of its own.
One minute I'm aimlessly cruising, the next I'm pulling into her fancy-ass circular driveway.
When I hit the doorbell, Celeste appears with little Violet practically doing backflips on her hip, red-faced and howling like she's being murdered.
"Tally!" Celeste's face lights up despite the chaos.
She yanks me into a one-armed hug. "Get in here!
" She whispers something into Violet's ear, and the kid's tantrum magically downshifts.
Within seconds, the two-year-old terror is thumb-in-mouth, head heavy against her mom's shoulder, eyelids drooping like she wasn't just raising hell.
Celeste adjusts the sleeping baby on her shoulder. "Let me put Violet down to sleep. Wait by the pool and we'll talk after."
I wander through rooms that could swallow my entire house whole.
Marble floors that echo with every step.
Ceilings so high they might have clouds.
I remember the first time I visited—how I'd gawked like a tourist, thinking my best friend had hit the jackpot.
Now all I see is three people rattling around in twenty thousand square feet while Rosa, their housekeeper-slash-therapist, lives in the guest cottage out back.
Like buying a cruise ship to paddle around your bathtub.
Celeste emerges with a bottle of wine and two glasses. God, it feels fucking amazing to drink again after all those months of pregnancy sobriety. "Max not around tonight?" I ask, taking a greedy sip.
"Paris," Celeste says, pouring herself a generous glass. "Some French film company Kensington Films wants to swallow whole."
"What about Esme? She watching Violet?"
Celeste's smile falters. "Let her go last week.
Told Max it was ridiculous paying someone to do what I'm perfectly capable of handling myself.
" She swirls her wine, not meeting my eyes.
"I'm home all day anyway. Besides, at Violet's age, having two mother figures around just creates attachment confusion.
Better if I'm the only woman in her daily life. "
Makes sense. Poor Brinley, though—shuttled between three different women.
Me, my mom when neither Cam nor I can be there, and Willow.
Fucking Willow. Last night I caught myself staring at Brinley while she slept, wondering if someday she'd look at me and just see the screw-up who gave birth to her, while perfect Willow became her real mom.
The thought made my stomach drop like I was falling off a cliff.
I'd lose everything—Cam to Willow, and my baby girl right along with him.
Who could blame her? Willow's got her shit together.
I'm the one with bright red nail polish and baby food in my rainbow-streaked hair.
Game over. If I were tiny enough to fit in Brinley's shoes, I'd probably toddle right over to Willow's perfect arms too.
“So you're flying solo with Violet now, huh?” I sigh. And then, just out of the blue, I start crying.
Celeste narrows her eyes. "You look like hell. What's wrong?"
I sink into her patio chair, staring at the ripples in her saltwater pool. She knows I traveled thirty miles in LA traffic to get to her house. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't desperate.
"It's Cameron," I finally say, my voice catching. "I always thought he was just killing time with Willow. That I could snap my fingers whenever I wanted him back. But tonight..."
"What happened tonight?" she asks, settling beside me.
"We were decorating the tree and he pulled out these Nutcracker ornaments.
Apparently Stephanie loved the ballet, and he and Alecia had this whole fantasy about her becoming a dancer.
" I take another gulp of wine. "He got all teary, and Willow—fucking Willow—was right there holding his hand.
They curled up with his photo albums and when I left, he barely noticed.
" I stare into my glass. "What if he proposes to her at Christmas?
What if Brinley ends up carrying their goddamn wedding rings down the aisle?
What if my own daughter starts calling her 'Mommy'? "
Celeste's eyes find mine. "Tally. You had to know Cameron would eventually stop waiting for you and commit to someone else."
I look at my blood-red nail polish. "Yeah.
I knew." My throat tightens. "And sometimes I almost cave—almost tell him everything about how I love him so desperately I can’t breathe sometimes.
But then what? That's me making promises I'm not sure I can keep.
" I look up at Celeste. "I can't ask him to dump Willow when I don't even know if I can give him what he wants. That wouldn't be fair to anyone."
Celeste takes a deep breath. "Oh, Tally."
Something in her voice makes my stomach clench. "What? You're holding out on me, aren't you?"
She shakes her head. "No. I mean. Oh God."
The floor seems to tilt beneath me. Cameron must've told Max something—something Celeste is keeping locked up tight. Whatever vault Max asked her to stash it in, I'm about to crack the combination.
"Tally. I promised not to tell."
"Tell me what, exactly?"
"Cameron bought a ring for her."
The air leaves my lungs like I've been punched.
My ears ring. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK!!!!! I did this to myself, didn't I?
I torpedoed everything. That diamond Willow's getting for Christmas had my name on it once—would've been mine the moment Cameron learned Brinley was his.
I see his face at the chalet, feel his hands on my skin, hear him whispering he'd marry me tomorrow if I'd just say yes.
If I'd just opened my damn mouth and told him how I felt, that ring would be mine.
Now it's too late. He's slipping that ring onto Willow's finger, and my worst fear is coming true right before my eyes.
I nod. "So my gut was right. Cameron's really gonna put a ring on it.” My hands won't stop trembling, and my stomach lurches like I might hurl right here.
Hot tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them.
That sick feeling I've been pushing away for months crashes over me like a wave.
Cameron and Willow. Together. Forever. Moving forward while I stand frozen in place.
I've been lying to myself this whole time, repeating that bullshit mantra: I'm fine with whatever happens. I can handle it.
But watching my words crumble against reality, I finally admit the truth.
I can't handle this.
Not even a little bit.