Chapter 27 Cam R — Pointless proposals
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves
Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare
I used to think Miranda would always wait for me.
That no matter how many times I brushed her off or laughed things away, she’d still be there, smiling that patient, forgiving smile.
I mistook kindness for permanence. I was a world-class self-delusional asshole thinking I wasn’t ready to commit to her.
Her absence was like a physical loss. I hadn’t written music since she’d left for France, and she never responded to anything I sent her.
I thought I was keeping my options open—that not committing was some kind of freedom.
But it wasn’t freedom. It was cowardice dressed up as choice.
And now I’m stuck with the proof of that cowardice, Jess.
Someone I ran to and hid behind when things with Miranda became too serious.
She was an intrusion in our relationship, and while I never liked her as more than a friend, I was happy to have that distraction, that impediment to forever.
She’s not Miranda. She never was. She laughs too loud at nothing, touches me like I’m something shiny she wants to keep, and I can’t even stand to look at her for long.
Every word feels like a reminder of what I traded away, the depth for the distraction.
She’s constant drama, and not the fun kind of drama Miranda would bring.
She was forever misinterpreting things I said, implying we had something serious when we’d both agreed we were basically friends who were sometimes booty calls.
Miranda wanted something steady. I wanted to avoid growing up.
And now I’m the one standing still, watching her move on with a man who actually shows up, who fixes things instead of breaking them.
I don’t know if she’s with him, but I sometimes see his comments on her Insta, and they seem far too familiar for someone who’s just a friend.
Nothing overt, but just constant reactions to her posts and encouraging words. The words of a boyfriend, not a friend.
I hate that I get it now, what she meant when she said, “You make everything feel temporary.” Because that’s what I was. Temporary.
And now I can’t stop thinking about all the things I didn’t do, the calls I didn’t return, the promises I half-kept, the way I let Jess wedge herself into the cracks I left wide open.
I didn’t even have to cheat; I just didn’t protect what mattered.
Jess’s attention combined with Miranda’s jealousy was flattering, but it’s the stupid kind of flattery a high-school boy enjoys.
The worst part? Miranda’s not angry anymore.
She never was. She hung up on me when I admitted rejecting her scholarship, but then, she was done.
And I finally understand that done is worse than furious. You can fix fury. You can’t fix done.
My phone chimed with the message alert I’d set up for Jess.
She had a unique tone, not because I was keen to see her texts, but so I could ignore them if I was doing something more important when they arrived.
Like alphabetizing my tax receipts, though it had been years since I’d filed a return.
I’d rather be alone with my own mistakes than with someone who reminds me of them.
Jess: Lol it’s totally fine that you didn’t text back last night, I just couldn’t sleep at all wondering if you were okay or like, with someone else haha. Anyway :) hope you slept great!
Me: Thanks for the message. Been pretty wiped lately, trying to focus on a few personal things. Take care, okay?
Jess: Oh yeah, no worries! I totally get it, you’re busy ?? Just miss talking to you, that’s all. Maybe we can catch up later this week?
I sighed. She was around all the time now, making me wonder how we’d even stayed friends this time.
She was tedious, annoying, and attention-seeking.
Maybe I wasn’t too late. I could perform some kind of grand gesture to prove how much I loved her.
She never seemed keen on Sweet Melons, so I wouldn’t bother with a song. I’d just talk from the heart. Loudly.
__________
I took a deep breath, stood on my car roof, and spoke loudly into the megaphone.
“MIRANDA BARD!”
The sound was distorted and tinny, but loud enough to draw the old biddy from next door out. My free hand held a bouquet of red roses, the universal language of love.
The old lady next door, Peggy, frowned, and her elderly partner joined her on the front lawn.
Curtains twitched in the house on the other side of Cordy’s home.
Great. Now I had Damon and Girlfriend-Stealing Cam as witnesses.
Lucy wandered out of the house, followed closely by the object of my attention. My proposal!
“MIRANDA! I KNOW I MESSED UP! BUT I’M READY TO BE THE MAN YOU DESERVE!”
Miranda shut her eyes. That was not a good sign.
And then, as if the universe wanted to make things worse, Asshole Cam stared directly at Miranda.
He was wearing gray sweats, leaning on crutches, and looking amused, eyes wide as he took in the scene.
Their eyes met. He gave her a small, sympathetic smile.
It said I’m not laughing, but I kind of am.
Miranda gave him a half-smile and returned her gaze to me, her face a combination of sympathy and embarrassment. “Cam, what are you doing?”
I dropped the megaphone slightly but still held it, like I might need to use it again if she didn’t respond correctly. “I’m proposing! I love you, Miranda! I know I’ve said stupid things, and I know I’ve been a total idiot, but I’ve changed! I’m different now!”
A chorus of low murmurs rippled through the small but very invested audience. Cuckolding Cam folded his arms, expression unreadable. Miranda took a deep breath and forced a smile that wasn’t one. “Can we talk privately, please?”
This wasn’t the response I’d hoped for. Private wasn’t good. A genuine, shy smile would have been great. A heartfelt acceptance and her throwing herself into my arms would have been ideal. I climbed down from the car roof, following her up the porch steps like a scolded teenager.
When the door closed behind us, she turned to me. “Cam, you have to stop.”
“I’m trying to show you I care!” I said, my voice cracking. “You said I never fight for anything. Well, here I am, fighting. And I’m all in this time.”
“This isn’t fighting,” she said quietly. “This is embarrassing—for both of us.”
I frowned. “I know I screwed up, okay? With Jess, with everything. But we can get back to what we were—”
She cut me off. “Cam, what we were ended long before Jess. You blew it long before that. You didn’t lose me because of one mistake.
You lost me because you never grew up. And that’s not me saying you’re a bad person.
Believe me, lately I’ve learned that we are who we are, and we’re just not right for each other. ”
I blinked, taken aback by her calmness.
She softened her tone, just slightly. “You need to hear this: I don’t hate you. I actually hope you find yourself and do better. But this,” she gestured toward the window, “this isn’t love. It’s noise. You don’t fix something broken by making it louder.”
I looked down at my shoes, mumbling, “I just thought maybe …”
“I know you did.” She gave me a sad, genuine smile. “But it’s over. It’s been over for a long time. You need to grow up. For your own good, not mine.”
My eyes were wet. I felt like a boy realizing the game was really finished. “So that’s it?”
“That’s it,” she said softly. “Now go home before the neighbors start filming or Peggy forms a new anti-public proposal subcommittee.”
I gave a humorless laugh and left, brushing past Cuckolding Cam on my way down the path.
Why was he on the property now? Couldn’t he see my humiliation clearly enough from next door?
Miranda followed behind me to see me out, and Cam looked at her questioningly.
She gave him a small, tired shrug. He turned and smiled at me sadly, with a hint of pity.
Fuck him. He pitied me. I used to pity him, always hanging around with his obvious crush on my girl. No. Not my girl. Not anymore.
As I trudged down the street, Peggy clapped politely, obviously misunderstanding the outcome of my grand romantic gesture.
Damon raised an eyebrow and called out, “Bold move, man!” Asshole.
Surprisingly, Lucy said nothing but gave me a sympathetic look.
I was no longer a threat to her. Her brother had won, and she’d wanted that all along.
I guess there’s no point in antagonizing a rival you have thoroughly bested.
I dragged my sorry ass into my car, determined to hold onto all the memories I’d created with her.
She’d loved How I Met Your Mother, and we’d often watched it together, cuddled on the sofa.
A scene from the show struck me with a sense of irony and self-realization, the one where Ted is determined to get to the girl before she met another man and her window closed.
An hour later, I sat on my sofa, lost in thought.
Marius predicted that Miranda would go wild for a few years, enjoying her new-found singledom but I suspected her window would close, if it wasn’t already.
And I’d been the moron to help her open it.
I was Wrong Cam, and in my stupidity, I virtually gift-wrapped her for Right Cam.
Her Cam. Forever Cam, not Temporary Cam.
The Addams Family clicking sound distracted me from my woes. Jess.
Jess: I heard about what happened today. You don’t have to apologize. I know you were just confused and hurting. We all do stupid things when we miss someone. I forgive you, Cam. You always try too hard to fix things, that’s one of the things I love about you, lol xx.
Fuck this woman and her unbreakable delusions. I had zero intention of apologizing to her. I hadn’t booty-called her in a while and had done everything but yell in her face. Nothing deterred her.
What now? Certainly not Jess. I’d go to LA.
Nothing was holding me back now. It was finally my time to throw every ounce of my being into my music.
Not wanting to be haunted by regret, I impulsively messaged my boss, quitting immediately.
Fuck the notice period. I wouldn’t need the payout once I had my first major hit.
Miranda would be sorry. I’d buy the best house, have the hottest women on my arm, and she’d be stuck with Suburban Cam, knowing that today, she’d blown her last chance.