panicking—I'm just grieving.
"Me too, honey," Michelle replies. "He loved you so much."
She has no idea exactly how much Cam loved me. She can't possibly know that he'd been harboring romantic feelings for me all that time, that he'd confessed he was in love with me the night before he died.
"I love him, too," I reply, my voice hoarse and weak. I don't use the past tense. Cam might be gone, but my love for my childhood best friend is still very present. I expect it always will be.
Michelle sighs. "I know that, Rory girl. And so did he," she assures me.
I know that, too. I'd told him I loved him plenty over the years, if not that I was in love with him. My feelings for Cam were very real, but also very complicated, and I'll never know how I really felt about him romantically, what those feelings would have evolved into. Not that it matters now.
"I know," I murmur.
"Look, no rush, but when you're ready, I gave your mom some things I thought you might want. I know you're still dealing with a lot, so take your time," she says in a rush.
She gave my mom some things? Like, there are things of Cam's here ? In this house?
I want to ask a million questions, but all I can say is "okay".
We end the call, each promising to speak again soon, though we both know the onus will be on me to make good on that promise.
I take a deep, settling breath, and turn to find my mother right behind me, watching me warily. I blink back lingering tears as she wraps me in her embrace. We hold each other for long minutes, just remembering, grieving.
I'm conflicted when I step back. I know she wants to ask me about our conversation, short as it was, though she must have heard enough to have gotten the gist. I'm sure we'd both intended on making some small talk and hanging up—not to talk about how much we love and miss Cam, though I'm glad she didn't walk on eggshells because of my issues.
"You okay, honey?" my mom asks. I don't answer, there's no point.
"You have something of Cam's?" My voice comes out accusatory, and maybe unconsciously I'd meant for it to. How could she never have mentioned this?
She nods slowly, still watching me carefully.
"And you were planning on telling me this when, exactly?"
"When you decided it was time you were able to talk about him," she retorts.
I deflate, my shoulders sagging with the loss of my confidence, and my mother sighs.
"Of course I wanted to tell you, Rory," she says, her arm sliding around my shoulders. "But I wasn't about to risk triggering a panic attack, and then after Miami… it didn't exactly seem like a good time."
"Yeah," I breathe. Fair enough.
My mother takes pause, as if considering her options. "There's a box in the closet in the guest bedroom," she says. "It's on the top shelf. When you're ready, it's there. I haven't gone through it. Michelle thought you were the one who should have it, not me."
"Okay."
I take my dinner upstairs and spend some time reading. I go through my evening routine, and get ready for bed. Part of me wants to race to the closet in the guest bedroom, to dive into whatever are the last bits of Cam I didn't even know I had left until a couple hours ago. But I have to be cautious.
I'm not me anymore. I have to consider the consequences, and I'm not sure what I can and can't handle anymore. I half think I should ask my mother to go through it before me after all. Maybe even ask Dr. Schall to look at the contents and give his approval first.
It's ridiculous of course. Only I will know if and when I can handle going through Cam's things, and a month ago I might have felt close, but now… I just don't know.
I'm so exhausted I find my eyes closing before ten, and I fall asleep with my reading lamp on.
****
I wake up screaming, still half trapped in that horrible dream. Robin had come after me. Sam was there. He wouldn't believe me that there was danger. Robin attacked me, and then went after Sam, driving head-on into his Escalade.
I gasp for air,
"Me too, honey," Michelle replies. "He loved you so much."
She has no idea exactly how much Cam loved me. She can't possibly know that he'd been harboring romantic feelings for me all that time, that he'd confessed he was in love with me the night before he died.
"I love him, too," I reply, my voice hoarse and weak. I don't use the past tense. Cam might be gone, but my love for my childhood best friend is still very present. I expect it always will be.
Michelle sighs. "I know that, Rory girl. And so did he," she assures me.
I know that, too. I'd told him I loved him plenty over the years, if not that I was in love with him. My feelings for Cam were very real, but also very complicated, and I'll never know how I really felt about him romantically, what those feelings would have evolved into. Not that it matters now.
"I know," I murmur.
"Look, no rush, but when you're ready, I gave your mom some things I thought you might want. I know you're still dealing with a lot, so take your time," she says in a rush.
She gave my mom some things? Like, there are things of Cam's here ? In this house?
I want to ask a million questions, but all I can say is "okay".
We end the call, each promising to speak again soon, though we both know the onus will be on me to make good on that promise.
I take a deep, settling breath, and turn to find my mother right behind me, watching me warily. I blink back lingering tears as she wraps me in her embrace. We hold each other for long minutes, just remembering, grieving.
I'm conflicted when I step back. I know she wants to ask me about our conversation, short as it was, though she must have heard enough to have gotten the gist. I'm sure we'd both intended on making some small talk and hanging up—not to talk about how much we love and miss Cam, though I'm glad she didn't walk on eggshells because of my issues.
"You okay, honey?" my mom asks. I don't answer, there's no point.
"You have something of Cam's?" My voice comes out accusatory, and maybe unconsciously I'd meant for it to. How could she never have mentioned this?
She nods slowly, still watching me carefully.
"And you were planning on telling me this when, exactly?"
"When you decided it was time you were able to talk about him," she retorts.
I deflate, my shoulders sagging with the loss of my confidence, and my mother sighs.
"Of course I wanted to tell you, Rory," she says, her arm sliding around my shoulders. "But I wasn't about to risk triggering a panic attack, and then after Miami… it didn't exactly seem like a good time."
"Yeah," I breathe. Fair enough.
My mother takes pause, as if considering her options. "There's a box in the closet in the guest bedroom," she says. "It's on the top shelf. When you're ready, it's there. I haven't gone through it. Michelle thought you were the one who should have it, not me."
"Okay."
I take my dinner upstairs and spend some time reading. I go through my evening routine, and get ready for bed. Part of me wants to race to the closet in the guest bedroom, to dive into whatever are the last bits of Cam I didn't even know I had left until a couple hours ago. But I have to be cautious.
I'm not me anymore. I have to consider the consequences, and I'm not sure what I can and can't handle anymore. I half think I should ask my mother to go through it before me after all. Maybe even ask Dr. Schall to look at the contents and give his approval first.
It's ridiculous of course. Only I will know if and when I can handle going through Cam's things, and a month ago I might have felt close, but now… I just don't know.
I'm so exhausted I find my eyes closing before ten, and I fall asleep with my reading lamp on.
****
I wake up screaming, still half trapped in that horrible dream. Robin had come after me. Sam was there. He wouldn't believe me that there was danger. Robin attacked me, and then went after Sam, driving head-on into his Escalade.
I gasp for air,
Similar Books
