Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
"Did you want to be with her?"
"I was just a kid. I wasn't ready to have sex. But I never said no. It never occurred to me that I could."
That's awful.
"I knew it had to be a secret. I knew people would see it was wrong. But at the time… I thought we were in love. I thought we were misunderstood."
"Oh."
"That's the sick thing. Under everything else, I loved her, but that became my idea of love. And it tangled with sex and now…" His gaze shifts to the city skyline. "I've spent half my life running from it." He's quiet for a moment, then he turns to me. "You changed that. Forced me to face it."
"Is that a good thing?"
He nods. "But it's terrifying too."
"I'm sorry. Not about the two of us having sex. And I'm not sorry I have feelings for you. But I'm sorry you went through that."
"Thank you."
"And I do… I really appreciate you trusting me with that. I…" I've never really been ashamed of anything. Certainly not anything sexual, but I can see that in his eyes. It's so unlike the Cam I know and so strong too. "I know it's a big deal."
He nods. "I'm not telling you as an excuse, Sienna. I just—"
"Want me to know and look at you the same?"
"Yes."
"Am I?" I try to stare into his eyes the way I did an hour ago. With all that need and affection.
But I must not get there, because he looks away. "No."
"It's not… I still think you're incredibly sexy."
"Is that what matters?"
"That's part of it, isn't it?"
He nods.
"And I… I still care about you. But I… I understand now, I guess. I understand certain things you've done. And why… why you believe this won't work."
"I haven't convinced you?"
"No… I think…" I think I'm sure I'm in love with him. But I can't say that now. Not after what he told me about this woman who abused him. And how she turned the word into something awful.
One day.
But not today.
I take a deep breath. "Are you sure this is what you need?"
"No."
"But you're asking for it anyway?"
"Yes."
I don't like it, but I understand it. "Okay." I slide out of the booth, hold my purse, wrap my arms around my chest. "I guess… this is goodbye again."
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too."
He slides out of the booth, stiff, uncomfortable. But he still pulls me into a soft, slow kiss.
It's not like Monday morning.
There's no heat in it. Only trust and affection.
I pull back with a sigh. "I guess I'll see you Friday."
"Are you walking home?"
"It's only a few blocks."
"You're shivering."
I shake my head.
He slips his suit jacket from his shoulders anyway. "I meant to leave this for you." He hangs it over my shoulders.
To wear with the cufflinks.
He pulls me into another soft, slow kiss, then he whispers goodbye, and I leave the restaurant, walk back to my apartment, fall apart alone.
Chapter Fifty
Cam
I stay late at the bar, finish the bottle of wine, order a plate of pasta.
I expect to feel sick over my confession.
Or to feel naked, used, vulnerable.
But I don't.
I'm lighter.
Freer.
I trust her with this.
I trust her with anything.
Back at my hotel, I toss and turn. It's not the uneasy sleep I expected. There's no pit in my stomach or dread in my chest.
Only that ache in my heart. The empty space she's carved for herself.
Around three a.m., I give up on sleep. I sit on the couch, turn on the TV, find something to numb my thoughts.
A reality TV marathon.
Strangers move into a house to find love, but really all they do is fuck each other.
It's the kind of thing Sienna watches.
It's terrible, of course.
But the antics of the idiots on the cast still make me smile. I imagine her here, next to me, explaining why the show is actually brilliant, demanding coffee, asking if I'll fuck her again.
It's still confusing.
And tangled.
It's going to take a long time to figure it out.
But maybe it's possible—
Maybe it's possible I'll be able to say I love you without my throat closing.
My thoughts stay fuzzy. Even as Ian and I arrange final details at the rehearsal dinner venue—the groom's family is supposed to pay, and there's no way we're letting Ty's mother cover the cost.
We convince the waiter to take our card, fight over who has the right to pay, rock paper scissors as a final decider.
He wins, like always.
How the fuck does he always win? The man is practically clairvoyant. I guess that's why he's a former spy.
We order wings, set up decorations, pass out gifts.
One by one, people filter in.
Friends from work.
Family from London.
Sienna and Indigo's cousins from New Jersey.
Sienna in a short red dress and gold heels, her hair pulled behind her ears, her long legs on display.
She's wearing my suit jacket over her dress. Even my cufflinks. It fits her better than it did the other night.