Love Songs & Other Lies(74)

I’m sitting backstage, scribbling some lyrics down, when Vee sits next to me. She’s been back from Riverton for a whole day, and we’ve both been so busy we’ve barely spoken. The three days she was gone from the tour somehow felt longer than the year I went without seeing her before all of this. Maybe I had gotten used to the dull ache after so long. Now the feeling of having her close to me is fresh in my brain, and her absence—even this distance between us since her return—feels like it’s amplified. When she sits down next to me, I feel like the breath I let out has been trapped in me for days.

“We need to talk,” Vee says.

I nod.

“It’s about your parents.”

I swallow. Take a deep breath. Fidget in my seat. I set the guitar next to me, so I can turn to face her. I’ve been preparing for this since the day I met her, and I still don’t feel ready for it. For this moment when she sees me differently, treats me like the broken asshole I know I am. “I don’t really know where to start.”

“They’re going to run a story about the fire.”

They shouldn’t, but her words shock me. “You know about the fire?”

“I have the internet, Cam.” She looks at me apologetically. “And I was heartbroken and curious when you left.”

I nod.

“I’m sorry.”

I nod. I’ve been reduced to a heavy-breathing, choked-up bobblehead. They should sell me at the merch tables outside. I’m sure that would be a huge hit. “I broke my arm in two places. A few ribs, my collarbone.” I pull down the collar of my shirt, showing her the tiny raised scar, and she runs her finger over it.

Vee shakes her head. “You don’t have to tell me about it.”

“I do, actually.” And it’s true, because I know she needs to hear this just as much as I need to be able to say it. If nothing else, she needs to know that my leaving had nothing to do with her. Or how much I loved her. It had everything to do with me. She nods, and I continue. “I had first-degree burns over most of my body. Like a really horrible sunburn.”

“It was Sienna with you?”

She’s obviously read articles, and I wonder which ones. Which pictures has she seen? I nod. “My parents were out of town for the weekend and Sienna stayed over.” I’m not sure if now is the time to elaborate on my relationship with Sienna, but I don’t. “She was in worse shape than I was.” I shake my head, remembering how much pain she had been in. “She broke most of the right side of her body; shattered her hip, broke her leg in a couple of places, fractured her wrist. She was in a wheelchair for months, couldn’t walk for months after.”

Vee glances up at me, her eyes full of questions I know I have to answer. “This was six months before you came to Riverton,” she says. It isn’t a question. “Eight months before we met.”

I nod and twist the leather band around my wrist. “I finished the semester at St. John’s, and when I turned eighteen, I left. I couldn’t be there anymore.” She nods like she understands, but I don’t know how she could. “I was different afterward. And everyone had expectations … of how I should feel … how I should act.”

“And your sister?” The question catches me off guard.

“We’re not close, but she’s fine. She was at college when it happened.”

She nods again, but never asks the questions I’m waiting for. The questions everyone asked me after it happened: Why did you say the house was empty? Did you know your parents were in the house? Were you fighting with them? Were you angry? How could you not know?

“And you left because you didn’t want to tell me this?” Her features are tight, and I can tell she’s trying not to cry. “Why?”

I jerk my head toward Jenn and Kaley, who are headed our way. “Not here.” I grab Vee’s hand and pull her up. I lead us to one of the small dressing rooms and lock the door behind us. Vee’s breath catches in her throat as she takes another step backward into the dim space. I grab her face gently in my hands, feeling the warm wetness of her cheeks against my palms.

“You were never the reason I left.” I feel like the words have been caught in my throat since the day I left Riverton. They feel rough coming out. “I just couldn’t be what you needed. I was messed up, Vee. I am messed up.” I brush tears away with my thumbs. “When stuff happened with Nonni, I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was what happened with my parents. All I knew was worst-case scenario. How everyone dies.” She sucks in a choked breath and I regret saying it; bringing up her own hurt. “And I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t deserve to be happy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I spent six months with everyone looking at me like a broken, second-rate version of what I used to be. That’s the whole reason I moved to Riverton. I didn’t want anyone looking at me like that anymore. Especially not you.”

She nods, but she doesn’t look at me. Her eyes look past me, over my shoulder, and she’s rigid, stone in my hands.

“I love you, Vee. Then”—I kiss her forehead, and my lips are still brushing against her skin when I speak—“… now. That’s the one thing I never hid from you. That’s the truest thing about me.”