The Real(87)

“I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes trying to get the courage to knock.” It was a rare sign of weakness on her part. “I’m sorry to show up like this unannounced. I didn’t know if Cameron would be here.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked cautiously. If she wanted to stir the pot she had a leg to stand on at that point. I had no idea what was going on as far as Cameron was concerned, but I had every intention of finding out.

“No. I’m here to see you.”

“Okay,” I said carefully taking a step forward. “Kat, I didn’t know.”

She nodded. “He told me.”

“So, you have to know I told you what I told you out of friendship and confidence, not out of cruelty,” I said with a trembling voice. I’d felt so justified in loving him moments earlier. I needed that strength back, but looking at the ghostly thin woman in front of me, I was on shaky ground. Was she high? I would never know the truth, but I did want the truth that I could see building on the tip of her tongue.

“Did he leave you?”

She nodded. “Almost a year ago.”

Relief for myself and anguish for my friend ran the gauntlet.

“I don’t understand. Why would you act like you were still married?”

“Because I was,” she said harshly.

I felt that blow to my toes.

“That’s not why I’m here. It’s not,” she back peddled.

“So, you were never trying to work things out?”

“I was raised to keep up appearances,” she said in a hushed tone. “I was an Olympic hopeful. I never took Cameron’s name when we married. I was a golden child, remember? I didn’t want to admit my husband left me.”

I nodded, though the irony wasn’t lost on me that she looked nothing like a doting wife with her treatment of him. She’d saved nothing as far as appearance went. Her addiction made her nothing short of a monster.

She seemed to read my thoughts. “Not so much a golden adult. I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“We all have, Kat. I could have been there for you.”

She gave me a weary smile, “While my husband fell in love with you?”

“God, what the hell did I just say?” Mortified, I hung my head.

“It’s okay, you know,” she said descending the steps. She looked stoic in her stance from years of practice. I had little in the weight of posture. I was hanging off the ledge myself. “All of those times you spoke to him?”

“He was always talking divorce, begging me to set him free. But I wanted to punish him.”

“For what?” I asked thinking of Cameron’s beauty and wondering how she could treat him so vile.

“For being everything I wasn’t,” she said with a trembling voice. “I was angry. I was resentful. And I hurt him in ways no woman should ever hurt a man,” she admitted. My eyes snapped to hers. “In every way you can imagine,” she added, but didn’t elaborate. But she didn’t need to, I saw it all there. I felt sick.

I wasn’t letting her go that easily.

“You hurt him?”

She swallowed casting her eyes down sweeping over it. “Yes. And he deserves someone like you Abbie, someone with tolerance who could never wound him the way I did. Who could never talk to him the way I did. I don’t want you to hold it against him. The way I treated him,” she swallowed again, “is unforgivable.”

Anger rushed through my veins but all I could do was pity her. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because maybe he won’t, and he deserves a little understanding. And maybe it won’t be easy for you to break through what I did, but if anyone can do it, you can.”

“What is he, that you aren’t?” I asked as she sniffed and wiped her nose. It was as if the weight of what she was telling me was getting to her and she stumbled a little in her heels. My hands shot out and I caught her.

“Kat! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said weakly ripping away from my hands. “I have a headache and I haven’t eaten today,” she said dismissively. I didn’t believe her for a second. “Kat, I can help.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Take a number Miss Fix It,” she snapped using things I told her in confidence against me. “Let’s not go down this road,” she warned with a clear hint of ice in her voice. She was definitely high and for the first time ever, I saw what Cameron saw. I bit my tongue and nodded. “Can I help get you home at least?”

“No,” she said with the shake of her head. “This is not why I’m here. You need my help, I don’t need yours.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” I said with my own bite. “Kat, you look terrible.” And beautiful. But she was a disaster and we both knew it. “If you’re feeling sick, I can—”

“Damn it, listen to me. I’ll figure my shit out. I’m here to talk about Cameron.”

“Well I don’t need your assurances, I know who I fell in love with. And really what gives you the right? You forget I heard the way you spoke to him. I heard it.”

Something close to remorse covered her guilt-ridden features before she squared her shoulders. “Fine,” she snapped before she pressed past me and walked toward my gate.