The Real(91)

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I know,” I said my voice laced with ache. “Please,” I said on a whisper, “please don’t take too long.”

I walked away then because it would be far too easy to fling myself at him and beg him to love me, because he would. He would take me into him and feed my need, because he loved me enough to do so.

But I wanted him to walk into the rest of our relationship with the open heart that he was when I met him. It was my own selfish condition.

With Cameron, I was playing for keeps.





Peering through my reflection of the coffee shop window, I saw her sitting at her table. Her dark-red locks swept over her shoulder as she sucked on her full bottom lip—a habit I loved—while she typed.

“Hey, Cameron,” Bennie spoke up as I eyed her through the glass. “See something good in there?”

I mustered a grin. “Where did you come from?”

“I’m everywhere. Been seeing you a lot less lately. You finally done sucking on that bottle and if so why didn’t you just bring it here to me?”

We grinned at each other. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You smelled worse than me.”

I pulled out my wallet and he waved me off. “I’m good.”

“Abbie?”

“She took care of me. She’s good people.” Bennie stood. “I’ll be seeing you around?”

I looked back into the coffee shop. “I hope so.”

“I have a good feeling you two gonna be alright. You take care of her.”

“Thanks, Bennie, I will,” I said absently, still focused on Abbie when the bell on the door rang out beside me. Swallowing my fears, I grabbed the handle before it closed and took a step inside.

Standing in front of a wall of cups, I took my time. I had so much to say, but I knew it couldn’t be conveyed with a fucking Hallmark slogan. I needed her to know I was there as the man that met her. The man who wanted to merge my life with hers. Without a doubt, I wanted her to know she came first, not my pride or my selfish needs. And once I did tell her I wanted her to know I would respect her decision.

Everything that had happened between us up until the point our weaknesses collided had coincided with the needs of my heart. But regardless of the words she spoke at the museum, about not knowing about the truth, I wanted to tell her. Not because I wanted her sympathy, because I had it and I hated it. But because she deserved the truth. And I was a slave to my love.

It may have started out with me and my selfish haze, for my need to believe in something better for myself, but she would always come first.

I’d made a mistake with the original woman I’d promised forever to.

I’d damn near made the same mistake again with the rightful woman who deserved that promise.

I needed to grow the fuck up and it was time to break the pattern no matter the outcome.

I chose my cup and walked to the small booth across from the macaroni table. Abbie sat typing away, earphones in as she moved subtly with the beat of her music. I knew the second she became aware of me when she froze, and her eyes found mine while I took my seat and opened my Mac.

In her bright blue eyes, I saw a mix of relief and fear. I kept her gaze as I typed with my heart in my throat.

Cameron’s Mac: Hi.

She bit her lip, her chin wobbling as she typed back.

Abbie’s Mac: Hi.

Tears filled her eyes and fell, and it took everything in me not to go to her.

Cameron’s Mac: Please don’t cry.

Abbie’s Mac: I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I’m afraid.

Cameron’s Mac: Don’t be afraid. Please don’t be afraid of me.

Abbie’s Mac: I’m not afraid of you.

We held our gaze for a good minute as her tears fell.

Cameron’s Mac: I love you. No matter what. You know that, right? Nothing can take the time we had away from us. Nothing could ever touch that. Okay?

Abbie’s Mac: Okay.

There was no way to go into it lightly. This was the heavy we’d avoided for far too long. I wasn’t wasting any more time.

Cameron’s Mac: Kat was a gymnast when she was young. Did she tell you that?”

Abbie nodded, and I had to rip my eyes away to keep going.

Cameron’s Mac: She had a bulging disk and for years she was in constant pain. After she finally had to have surgery, she got hooked on the pain meds and became an addict. Her addiction stemmed from nowhere. At least that’s what I thought. Before the surgery we had a decent marriage and a good life. We wanted for nothing and were talking about having our first child. I can’t say that our marriage was blissful because I know what that feels like now, with you. But at the time I wouldn’t have second guessed it. Looking back, maybe she was unhappy because the drugs seemed to fill up something I couldn’t. At first, she tried to hide it from me. And then when she stopped trying to conceal her addiction, everything changed.

Abbie nodded at me in encouragement.

Cameron’s Mac: The first time I confronted her was the first time she lashed out.

Abbie nodded and wiped her face as she looked at her screen. I knew she was afraid I would see the pity in her eyes. But all I wanted was understanding.

Cameron’s Mac: I tried everything I could. She did not want my help and made it clear she didn’t want to get clean. I finally gave an ultimatum and kept it by leaving her. She never did anything to bridge the gap on her end. I didn’t stop trying to help her when I left, and she didn’t stop destroying herself. I would catch her seeking all over the worst parts of the city. I froze her credit cards, I kept tabs on her twenty-four seven. I damn near lost my business following my wife all over Chicago to get prescription drugs. She was a functioning addict, so no one was concerned, not even her father who I tried repeatedly to get through to. It was a fucking nightmare. One morning I woke up and all we had left in common was her addiction. We hadn’t been physical in the whole year before I left.