supposed to mean? Of course it was just about the sex, it always is!”
“Then tell me honestly, in the last two months that you’ve become friends with Hayley, how many times did you think about Rachel? Or having sex with someone else, huh?”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I retort.
“The hell it doesn’t. Just admit that you care about her, Cameron.”
And there it is. The crux of my problem. The very thought that has kept me awake every night since I left Hayley in that emergency room. I look down, afraid that Hannah will see everything I’m trying so hard to hide written all over my face.
My voice is barely above a whisper when I reply, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Hannah probes.
“Because!” I yell again. “I destroy everyone I give a fuck about!”
Hannah’s face drops as my words register. She knows what I mean; she’s one of the few people cognizant of what haunts me.
“Cam,” she breathes, taking a step closer to me. “You can’t keep living your life this way because of one mistake you made two years ago. It was an accident, and your mom and Candice don’t hold you responsible.”
“But they should,” I reply. “It was my fault. It’s my fault my dad is…”
I swallow my words. I can’t even bring myself to say it. Just thinking about what I’ve done to my family, to my father, is enough to make me sick.
“Please, Cam,” Hannah pleads quietly. She touches my cheek with her palm. “Make it right with Hayley. She makes you…different.”
“How?”
Hannah’s mouth tilts up, giving me a half-smile as she replies, “Happy.”
She’s right. Even as a friend, Hayley made me feel happiness. It’s foreign, because I denied myself of that feeling for so long that I forgot what it felt like, what it looked like.
What scares me, though, is how I need to make things right with Hayley. There’s only one way I can fix this and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. I would have to show Hayley the ugliest part of me. Maybe then she’ll see that I actually did her a favor, because I can’t give her what I think she wanted if there’s nothing left to give.
Chapter 9
~ Hayley ~
I sit next to Ari’s hospital bed and watch her sleep. I am way past the point of exhaustion, barely having slept at all over the last week. To say this has been a nightmarish ordeal is putting it mildly and making light of a rather traumatizing experience for both Ari and me. It has been the longest week of my life and I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve cried out of pure frustration. There is nothing worse than feeling helpless, watching them wheel your baby girl into surgery knowing that all you can do is wait. The waiting didn’t last that long but when a nurse came out about half way through Ari’s surgery I had my first breakdown as a result of sheer panic. I was sure something had gone wrong, and while I wasn’t sure if it was possible for a child to die during a procedure as common as an appendectomy, it didn’t stop my mind from going there. The nurse informed us the surgery would take a little longer because Ari’s appendix had burst but they managed to stop any infection in her stomach and that so far the surgery was going well. I felt a war of emotions coursing through my body. It was a battle between panic, because she’s so small and so young to have to go through this, and relief, because she was doing okay under the circumstances.
When they finally brought her out and settled her into a room, I cried again. Seeing her with I.V drips and giant plasters on her tiny stomach was my undoing, and then hearing her scream when they needed to clean her wound had me fighting the urge to knock more than one of the nurses out. They had to do their jobs, but last time I checked that didn’t include hurting my baby.
The door opens slowly, filling the small room with light. My grandmother walks in, smiling at me with sympathy
“Then tell me honestly, in the last two months that you’ve become friends with Hayley, how many times did you think about Rachel? Or having sex with someone else, huh?”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I retort.
“The hell it doesn’t. Just admit that you care about her, Cameron.”
And there it is. The crux of my problem. The very thought that has kept me awake every night since I left Hayley in that emergency room. I look down, afraid that Hannah will see everything I’m trying so hard to hide written all over my face.
My voice is barely above a whisper when I reply, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Hannah probes.
“Because!” I yell again. “I destroy everyone I give a fuck about!”
Hannah’s face drops as my words register. She knows what I mean; she’s one of the few people cognizant of what haunts me.
“Cam,” she breathes, taking a step closer to me. “You can’t keep living your life this way because of one mistake you made two years ago. It was an accident, and your mom and Candice don’t hold you responsible.”
“But they should,” I reply. “It was my fault. It’s my fault my dad is…”
I swallow my words. I can’t even bring myself to say it. Just thinking about what I’ve done to my family, to my father, is enough to make me sick.
“Please, Cam,” Hannah pleads quietly. She touches my cheek with her palm. “Make it right with Hayley. She makes you…different.”
“How?”
Hannah’s mouth tilts up, giving me a half-smile as she replies, “Happy.”
She’s right. Even as a friend, Hayley made me feel happiness. It’s foreign, because I denied myself of that feeling for so long that I forgot what it felt like, what it looked like.
What scares me, though, is how I need to make things right with Hayley. There’s only one way I can fix this and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. I would have to show Hayley the ugliest part of me. Maybe then she’ll see that I actually did her a favor, because I can’t give her what I think she wanted if there’s nothing left to give.
Chapter 9
~ Hayley ~
I sit next to Ari’s hospital bed and watch her sleep. I am way past the point of exhaustion, barely having slept at all over the last week. To say this has been a nightmarish ordeal is putting it mildly and making light of a rather traumatizing experience for both Ari and me. It has been the longest week of my life and I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve cried out of pure frustration. There is nothing worse than feeling helpless, watching them wheel your baby girl into surgery knowing that all you can do is wait. The waiting didn’t last that long but when a nurse came out about half way through Ari’s surgery I had my first breakdown as a result of sheer panic. I was sure something had gone wrong, and while I wasn’t sure if it was possible for a child to die during a procedure as common as an appendectomy, it didn’t stop my mind from going there. The nurse informed us the surgery would take a little longer because Ari’s appendix had burst but they managed to stop any infection in her stomach and that so far the surgery was going well. I felt a war of emotions coursing through my body. It was a battle between panic, because she’s so small and so young to have to go through this, and relief, because she was doing okay under the circumstances.
When they finally brought her out and settled her into a room, I cried again. Seeing her with I.V drips and giant plasters on her tiny stomach was my undoing, and then hearing her scream when they needed to clean her wound had me fighting the urge to knock more than one of the nurses out. They had to do their jobs, but last time I checked that didn’t include hurting my baby.
The door opens slowly, filling the small room with light. My grandmother walks in, smiling at me with sympathy
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