The Design(72)

I wanted to cave then, to run to him and erase the past. We could start new and pretend there weren’t any skeletons in our closet. But I knew I’d never forgive myself if I caved.

He pushed through the crowd of travelers on the sidewalk, trying to get to me. I wasn’t going anywhere. I was rooted to my spot, but he ran toward me like I was fleeing at the speed of light.

Before he reached me, I turned toward my cab and braced myself for the end.

“Cammie!” Grayson yelled.

I couldn’t believe he’d come.

“Ma’am, the money,” the cab driver reminded me, apparently unaffected by the romantic airport scene taking place before him.

“Oh. Uh,” I fumbled for my wallet and tried to pull out exact change just as Grayson reached me.

“I’ve got it,” Grayson said, reaching for cash before I held up my hand.

“No! No you don’t have it,” I argued, turning to the cab driver. “This should cover it.”

“Whatever. Have a good trip.” The cabdriver shrugged and fled the scene, wanting nothing more to do with us.

“Cammie. Please just wait a second,” Grayson said when I turned to face the entrance of the airport.

“What do you want Grayson?” I asked, hitching my backpack up higher on my shoulder. The weight was already getting to me.

“You’re actually going to leave?” Grayson asked, scanning over my backpack and passport sticking out of my front pocket.

“Yes, I’m really leaving,” I answered.

He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated with me. “Because I helped you earn a scholarship? Because I gave you a job?”

I scanned the crowd around him, trying to do anything but meet his eye. “Because of everything. This is too much, Grayson. All the things you’ve done in secret—it’s too much for me to ignore. The fact that you just tried to pay my cab fare proves that you still don't get it.”

“Cammie. I would have told you about everything. You think it looks bad because it’s all piled up in emails, but you have to just let me explain it.”

He reached for my arm, gripping it securely in his hand so that I was forced to stay beside him, to stay with him. I glanced up at his face and immediately wished I hadn’t. Sorrow was etched across every feature. His blue eyes threatened to tear me in two.

“Tell me the reason you’re leaving me, Cammie.”

He wanted an answer, but I couldn’t give him one. I didn’t quite understand my need to leave, but it was there, in the pit of my stomach, overpowering my love for the man in front of me. More than anything, I felt a need to flee, to get out and run as far away as I could. If I didn’t do it now, at this moment, I knew I never would. I would be Grayson’s puppet and my sister’s charity project for the rest of my life.

So, instead of giving him the complicated version, I lied.

“It’s all been a game to me, Grayson,” I said with a steady voice. The words were a lie, but I was holding enough anger inside of me that they sounded real, even to me.

He frowned, his thick brows drawing together in confusion. “A game?”

I nodded.

“You don’t mean that,” he argued.

“Can’t you see? It was a game to pass the time before I left for Paris. Can the ugly duckling, all grown up, score her childhood crush?”

His grip loosened around my arm and then his touch was gone completely. He took two steps back, stared at me for another moment, and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Maybe this was all a game because I definitely feel like a f*cking loser right now, Cammie.”

I guess that made me the winner. Too bad I didn’t feel like one.

Tears, hot and heavy, were threatening to stream down my cheeks. I turned and wiped my eyes before growing even angrier that I couldn’t keep it together.

“Whatever.” I took a deep breath. “Are we done here?”

My casual tone unnerved him. He flinched back and then lurched forward, stepping right up to me until our faces were inches away from each other.

“Do you think you’re safe if you belittle our relationship? Hide behind the idea that it was all just casual sex?” he asked, his voice growing louder so that the passing travelers slowed around us to listen.

“What’s your goal here, Grayson?” I cried. “I’m leaving for Paris! And you’re staying in LA to run your company. Just let it go!”

He shook his head and gripped my arms, his final resolve coming to life. “You once called me a liar. Do you remember that? You jabbed your finger into my chest and you called me a f*cking liar.”

“What’s your point?!”

“You’re a hypocrite!” he yelled. “You’re scared and you’re running because of it.”

I laughed sarcastically, a shrill sound that sounded terrible even to my own ears.

“Yup. You’ve figured it out. That’s the exact reason I’m leaving. Now let me go.”

He threw up his hands. “Okay. Fine. I'll let you go if you tell me you’re getting on that plane for the right reasons, that you won’t regret your decision to leave the second it takes off.”

Of course I couldn’t tell him that, not if I was being honest, but then his indiscretions flashed through my mind like a horrible daydream. The emails, the jobs, the internships, the subsidized rent… but most importantly, the fact that nothing in my life had been accomplished by my own two hands. Grayson had acted as my God for far too long. I couldn’t separate my love for him from my hatred for what he’d done in my life. I had to get out. I had to leave.