Her face blushed scarlet. Her body melted in response to his voice as though it were a siren’s call for an illicit encounter. Without answering, she scrambled out of the car, astonished that her legs still functioned properly as she grabbed her luggage from Jax’s hand and walked to the entrance of the building.
As she opened the door to the building, Jax called out, “Cam left the key to his apartment under the front doormat. I’ll see you on Saturday night.”
It wasn’t until she was sitting in Cam’s apartment that she realized that she forgot her purse in Jax’s car. The normal response would have been to call or text Jax immediately and ask him to drop it off, but the idea of having any contact with Jax was too unsettling.
So she sent Cam a text asking him to pick it up before he came back to his apartment, but all afternoon she kept stealing peeks at her phone, hoping that Jax texted or called her. She knew without question that she would not answer Jax’s call or respond to his text, so why she watched her phone as if she were waiting for an answer on a matter of life or death was incomprehensible.
Finally, unable to stand the suspense for one more moment, she called Sara.
“I think I’m developing some sort of neurotic disorder,” Bre blurted out before she could stop herself.
“Hello to you, too. I hope it’s not contagious.”
“No. God, Sara. I don’t know where to start,” Bre said, twisting a piece of hair around her finger.
“Are you in LA now?”
“Yes. I arrived a couple of hours ago. Jax picked me up at the airport, and now I’m waiting for Cam to come home.” Bre sat down on the sofa, tossing Cam’s discarded clothing on the floor.
“Ah, so the usual, huh. What’s his story tonight?
“What do you mean?”
“What did he say was so important that he abandoned you in his apartment after not seeing you for over a month?”
“Come on, Sara. This was a last minute trip. He had things to take care of so we could spend the weekend together.”
“If you say so. So what’s this neurotic disorder you mentioned?”
“Jax and I had a disagreement on the trip back from the airport. I think he’s really upset with me, and I left my purse in his car. I can’t stop staring at my phone waiting for him to call or text me.”
“I think you need to consider why your relationship with Jax is so important to you. Lately, you dwell on him more than you do Cam’s noticeable absence. By your own admission, you’re waiting with bated breath for him to contact you, and you hardly care that Cam isn’t there to greet you when you fly across the country to see him.”
A flash of irritation swept through her. “I’ve already told you there’s nothing to my relationship with Jax except friendly camaraderie and I love—”
“Yes, right. You love Cam, and you can’t imagine your life without him. I’ve heard it all before,” Sara said wearily.
“I do love Cam. I always have, but I’m not sure what that means anymore. I loved growing up with him and I love his family, and I loved dating him until recently…”
“Can I be honest with you for a minute, Bre?”
“Of course,” Bre said as she lifted her feet onto the coffee table.
“You don’t have to stay with Cam to prove you aren’t like your mother. You have a long road to travel before you get anywhere near her level of crazy. Stability and consistency are wonderful things, but so is being true to your heart. You’ve been friends with Cam for so long, and with your grandmother gone, he’s your last anchor to your childhood, but that doesn’t mean you have to marry him.”
“I know,” Bre whispered. Tears flooded her eyes, and she wiped them with the back of her hand.
“Do you?”
“Yes. Since high school, every time I thought about how I wanted my life to look when I was older, Cam was part of the picture. Now, I’m not sure what I want anymore.”
“Bre, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted to encourage you to take a step back and consider why it’s so important to you to keep Cam in your life. Clearly, you two have drifted apart, but neither of you will cut the cord. Why is that?”
“I can’t give up on our relationship yet. Breaking up with him on the phone seemed—I don’t know—wrong and not totally final. My mom always gave up when things got difficult or complicated. I promised myself I wouldn’t be like her. Did I tell you that she left husband number three when he got cancer? While he was at the hospital getting his first treatment, she packed up our things and left him a note saying she was an artist, not a nurse.”