The Real(93)

She nodded and looked down at the cement below us. “My ex, Luke,” she started.

“I know,” I interrupted.

“What?” She said in a whisper.

“Your brother,” I said connecting the dots. “I know.”

She swallowed. “When?”

“The night of Bree’s wedding. He tracked me down at the bar. Mrs. Zingaro, too. She slipped up one night after you went upstairs. She said he attacked you and her son stopped him.”

“It wasn’t their place,” she said tightening her hold on her bag.

“I just wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear it from you.”

Residual anger stirred as I recalled the conversation with her brother.

“It seems so pointless now anyway,” she said carefully.

“Don’t do that, don’t compare yours to mine. Don’t do that,” I said stuffing my hands in my coat. “Tell me, Abbie.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to relive it. I don’t need to. I’ve done enough of that. I got fixated and it wasn’t healthy. If you know anything you know enough. He was controlling and manipulative and he scared the shit of me. But the thing is, I got over it without you. And you helped me stomp the rest of my fears out. I don’t want or need you to know every detail and I don’t need to know yours unless you want to tell me. It’s just some bad shit that happened to us on the way to each other. And if it keeps us apart, they win. I didn’t want to admit my weakness for a man who used me any more than you wanted to tell me about Kat. And I know you tried. I knew we weren’t invincible, Cameron. We have plenty of chinks in our armor. I know that, it’s life, but with you I feel a hell of a lot stronger. That night I found out about Kat, I was afraid when you got upset, but in my heart, I know you would never hurt me. I won’t believe that now or ever. You just aren’t capable. And it’s not that I’m glad this happened, but in loving you, I realized I could trust myself again. Luke’s gone, you’re here, that’s all that matters. I just want you to be sure.”

I swallowed her hard admission as she had mine and did my best not to ask any more questions, specifically those of an address. When Oliver left me at the bar that night, he was none the wiser, other than what doubt I could try to erase that I genuinely loved his sister.

And I was destroyed by the news she’d been treated that way. It only fed my head to the bullshit notion she was better off without me. But that’s what it was, bullshit and she was calling me out on it.

If I wanted her to believe, I had to believe it myself.

“I miss you so much,” I said studying her profile in the half-light casting shadows from the café. “Losing you is killing me. Just tell me what to do.”

Her anger disappeared as she looked up at me.

“Tell me what you want, Cameron. Don’t give me the answer you think I need, just tell me what you want.”

“Jesus Christ,” I choked out. “What I want? Abbie, all I want, all I’ll ever want again, is you.”

And in that moment as I looked at her, I believed we were absolute.

A lifetime of promises raced through me as I stared down at her. “I will never keep anything from you again,” I said softly as I took her face in my hands and made the first promise to shimmering blue eyes. “Ever. And I’ll never let you go again without the fight you deserve. Everything you think you aren’t, I can tell you right now you are, to me you are. And if loving me is what you’re good at, I’ll spend my whole life earning that affection. I want this, with you, until I’m not breathing. I need you to remember that when shit gets tough. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed easily as if we were making simple plans for the day ahead instead of decisions on our future.

She’d just given me back my life, my happiness and I nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead out of words as my heart stuttered in relief. “Okay.”





Chinese food in hand, I walked down Milwaukee Avenue as the sun set. I passed the graffiti walls and strode underneath the squeaking train as I made my way home. I’d taken the long route because Abbie liked her Lo Mein cold, the weirdo. I grinned as I thought of her text.

Me: Dinner tonight?

Witchy Woman: Will sucky suck for some sweet and sour soup and shrimp lo mein. Me love you long time.

Me: You’re geeking out again, babe.

Witchy Woman: Fine, no sucky for you. Just get the food.

When I was growing up, I never really gave love a second thought. It was just something I was supposed to have. A futuristic endeavor of . . . eventually or when the time was right. At the time of my choosing, I always assumed I’d have it when I wanted it.

I’d never been more fucking wrong.

Love in all its splendor is a damned nightmare if kept secluded to a timeline. You don’t just stumble upon the love of your life and expect things to work out in your favor.

Love by its definition is a lie, its true definition is work and a fuck lot of it.

It also means so much more than that one syllable. It’s a one-word representation of everything that can make or break a person. Love is only meant for the brave.

I didn’t know when I was younger that I had love. I had the love of the first girl I bedded in high school. I remember feeling it and dismissing it for some other time. I had the love of my college sweetheart but never really returned her affections, always knowing in the back of my mind that she wasn’t the one I would marry. That’s a harsh truth. That makes me a bastard in a way. I’d abused her affections for my own personal gain and to pass the time.