“Cameron,” I cry out and tears glide down my face. He is just standing there, watching me. The pain I’m seeing in his face mirrors the pain in mine.
“Fate, are you crying?” Clarissa gasps.
“Yes, I am crying. He’s here, Clarissa,” I whisper like I’m scared if I am too loud I might startle him or wake up and find out he’s not really here. “I have to go.”
“Listen to me, let him tell you what he feels, don’t assume, and you have to let him talk about this. You can’t ignore this. The cat’s out of the bag so to speak. He might have questions. But you have to trust him to stay. I love you and I will see you tomorrow at eleven o’clock.” I don’t even have to hang up as I hear the click telling me she has. I just let the phone fall from my hands to the ground beside me.
“Fate.” He sighs and starts to take small steps toward me. When he gets close enough to me, he bends down so he’s down on the floor with me. Slowly, he brings his hand up like he’s going to touch me, but he changes his mind and withdraws his hand. The agony slices through me.
Without thinking, I let everything Clarissa told me slip. “I wouldn’t want to touch me either,” I say with disgust.
“Fate,” he chokes out and I feel it then. The loss.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cameron
When I walked in and saw her, I was wrecked. My girl was huddled up like her world was destroyed. I destroyed her. My anger got the better of me and I hurt her. Then I took off because I was so blinded by my rage I didn’t want her to get caught in the crossfire again. That was worse. I only got so far before I realized who I had left her there with. I’m an asshole. The moment I went back and saw she wasn’t there, and neither was he, I lost my damn mind.
I wanted to reach out and pull her to me the moment I saw her, but I don’t deserve that. Protecting her was the one thing I was supposed to do and I failed her. My rage clouded that need and I will never forgive myself for that. Now she’s sitting here in pieces because she thinks I look at her with repulsion.
“Fate,” I choke out and I feel the tears I was holding back trying to break free. “I am so sorry,” I whisper to her, and she nods her head. My girl sits there shattered and then my brain checks back in.
“I don’t blame you, you didn’t ask for this. Any of this and some things are just too much to overlook,” she states, and I crash. Those tears I was barely holding in begin to fall.
“You are so fucking stupid,” I say when I finally get my breath steady. She looks up and sees the tears in my eyes that are identical to hers. “I didn’t leave to get away from you, I was trying to get a check on my anger because I wanted to kill him and I hurt you. I don’t deserve these tears. I know you don’t cry for shit so to see you like this is damn near killing me. Please, babe, stop crying. Talk to me, don’t shut me out.” I am begging her to just let those walls down and bring me in. “I don’t care if you shut the world out, but shut me in there with you,” I say, hoping it gets through to her.
“It’s a pretty scary place to be. Are you sure you really want to know?” she whimpers, and I want to end this here. I wish I could take this pain away from her.
“Nothing you’re going to tell me will change anything. I can promise you that, Fate. You could never say anything to make me not love you.” She gasps at my proclamation of my feelings. Not because I don’t feel it but because I know she can’t say it back and that will eat at her. She needs to hear it now. Someone needs to show this beautifully destroyed girl that they love her no matter what, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone who isn’t me be that person for her.
“After my mother died my father began drinking. I remember him drinking when I was a bit younger, but he went away for a while and when he came back everything was fine. I assume he went to rehab. After my mom died, he relapsed and started drinking every day. My mother’s death destroyed him,” she says. Looking to her it’s like I can see right inside to that scared little girl. “He came into my room one night and…” I feel her panic coming on and I want to comfort her, but I don’t know how without causing more pain. “He molested me until I finally told someone and they took me away. He went to jail and I never saw him again until today.”
Pieces begin to come together in my head of the things she’s said.
“He only came at night in the dark,” I say and she nods. “Music, how does that come into this?” I ask because we have been working on it and now I feel like I pushed where I never should have.