The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(131)
I swallow, but that big, ugly ball of emotion wedges somewhere between my throat and my chest. He opens his arms and I lose the will not to be close to him. I’m still angry but I just need him to hold me. I keep my arms at my sides and he wraps his arms across my back and kisses my hair, my temple and my ear.
“Tell me what happened. Why’d you pass out and how many babies are we having?”
His big hands cup my face and he tilts it so I’m looking up at him.
“Who says we’re pregnant?”
“Kitten, your sexy eggs have been mixed with my super sperm. Of course we’re pregnant.” I manage a smile. “So, who’s pregnant?” he asks.
“Both of them,” I reply.
He tilts his head as he pulls it back to get a better look at me. “Seriously?”
I nod. “I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that, Cam.”
His eyes are shining with unshed tears. “No, you wouldn’t, would you, Kitten.” He brings his mouth gently down to mine and kisses me very softly. “I love you and I’m so sorry for all the shit I’ve brought your way the last few days. I swear, I will find a way to make it better. I swear, I will make you happy. Three babies, Kitten, we had none and just like that, we’re gonna end up with three.”
I want to be confident that everything will be just fine, that we will end up with another two babies, but this is my life. Nothing about my life has gone the way I planned. Until I had two healthy babies in my arms, I would face each day with caution and trepidation. Jim and Ash were right when they decided to keep the information they gave me about the IVF process to a minimum. I do have a tendency to stress and have a meltdown over the slightest thing. And as much as I want to enjoy these next nine months as I watch my babies grow and develop inside my two best friends’ bellies, I know full well that I’m going to be terrified too.
*
Cam and I drive back to Essex and our new home, and this time, there’s not a journalist in sight. We shower and curl up in bed together. I feel exhausted, mentally and physically drained. I’m looking forward to the memorial events for Sean this weekend, but at the same time, I can’t wait for them to be over.
As if reading my mind, Cam says into the back of my head as we spoon, “Do you want to go to the cemetery at the weekend?” It’s Sean’s birthday Saturday. That’s why I picked this weekend for the concerts.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t go to the cemetery.” He’s quiet for a few seconds.
“Why’s that, Kitten?”
I shrug and turn around to face him. “It doesn’t bring me any comfort. Sean’s not there. It’s the last place he would be. If I need to feel close to him, I play one of his songs or I just talk to him.”
“And do you need to?” I shrug.
“Sometimes. With the acts and the events for the weekend, I’ve needed his advice.” He lets out a sigh and I know he’s disappointed that I’ve said that. “Don’t sigh like that. You’re being stupid. You have nothing to be jealous about. I’m not having this conversation with you again. You spend time with Tamara. I’m the only one who gets to be jealous.” His hips are pressed into mine and I feel him start to get hard. It doesn’t take much to get Cam going.
“Are you jealous then, of Tamara?” I nod.
“You know full well that I am. I can’t do it, Cam. I’ll end up as bitter and twisted as she is if you keep spending time with her. Spend all the time you like with Harry, but not with her.”
He kisses my forehead. “Just another couple of weeks, Kitten. The baby will be with us every other weekend and she won’t be around to spoil it.”
“So you’re not going to apply for full custody?”
“I’m still not decided. I understand where you’re coming from, but Harry’s safety is my number one priority, over and above any rights she may have as his mother.”
I let out a long breath. “I understand and respect that. It’s a hard call.” Now I’ve calmed down, I can see why he’s concerned. Even off the drugs, Tamara is vindictive and unpredictable, and he’s probably right not to trust her with his son, especially when she finds out about our babies.
“How you feeling? What was the passing out all about? You didn’t answer me when I asked you earlier.”
I give a small shrug. “I just got myself in a state. I was worrying about the results and my legs just went from under me.”
“You feel okay now?”
“I feel fine now. Just really tired.”
“Too tired to f*ck?”
“Yep.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Can I f*ck ya anyway?”
“Of course you can.”
Chapter Thirty
I walk out of the television studio on London’s South Bank and see Scott waiting for me. He’s leaning against the black Land Rover with a coffee in each hand.
It’s only ten in the morning. I’ve been here since six being interviewed on breakfast television about this weekend’s events for Sean’s memorial.
I’ve done interviews every day this week, and Marley has been with me for all the others, deflecting anything too personal. I’d made it clear to the TV and radio stations that the interviews were to be focused on the event and the charity, not on me, how I was doing or my relationship with Cam. I hadn’t given a single interview since Sean’s death, so I knew there would be a few arsehole journalists who would try and push the parameters that had been set, but most had been respectful.