Chapter Fifty One
Camille
The thing about abandonment wounds is that withdrawal and silence hurt more than an argument ever could.
Days passed with no word from Hunter, and each hour without a text felt like a fresh reminder that I was too much and he’d gone, just like the others.
I tried to keep myself busy, but he lingered in everything.
In the empty spot on the couch where he usually sat with Zeke, building Lego sets.
In the swing at the park, where the twins looked forward, as if they expected him to push them higher.
In the way my phone lit up at night with everyone and everything but him. I checked anyway, though, constantly.
A ridiculous part of me hoped I’d see his name, hear his voice, get some proof that I hadn’t just imagined the love between us. But when I did hear from him, it was short. Flat. Messages anyone could have sent. Busy. Talk later.
But later never came.
I tried to keep up appearances for the kids.
Smiled when Zeke asked about him, kissed the twins’ curls when they babbled “Hunty!” like he was still about to walk through the door.
Yet when the house was quiet, I curled on the couch with my textbooks untouched, staring at the last picture I’d taken of him holding the twins.
He hated pictures, but he never complained about the countless pictures I took when he was in the moment; those candid shots were the only thing I had to remind me that this was all real.
As I fell deeper into the pits, I started to second-guess it all. The last time he smiled at me. The kiss before he left. The way he’d picked up Zeke and swung him around like he wanted to belong here.
Had I read it wrong? Had I been stupid enough to believe someone like him could actually want someone like me with three kids, stretch marks, messy hair, and all?
The ache curled tight in my chest, familiar and bitter.
I’d felt it before. Each loss in my life taught me to build walls higher, to guard my heart more fiercely.
Yet, with Hunter, it cut deeper because I’d let him in, believing he wasn’t like the other men in my life who tossed me aside the moment they determined I wasn’t worth the effort it took to stay.
And now I wasn’t sure if that belief made me brave… or just naive.