More Than Forever(115)

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE


-CAMERON-

I leave Lucy in bed, quietly snoring. She had a lot to drink last night and we got home pretty late. I tell her that I'll be back in a few hours and that I want to get some work done at the studio. She mumbles an I love you and pulls the covers above her head.

I get in my car, drive past my studio, and with each passing minute I let the nerves build.

*

I rub my palms down my shorts and inhale deeply. I close my eyes and count to five in my head, then I open them and knock on the door before I wuss out.

Tom answers with a smile when he sees me, but then his brows furrow. "Everything okay?" he asks, looking over my shoulder.

I can understand why he'd be concerned. It's rare that I show up without Lucy, or that I even knock these days.

His gaze comes back to me as he looks me up and down, and whatever he sees in my face has him smiling again.

"Come in," he says, jerking his head inside the house.

It's quiet, quieter than I've ever heard it. I look around, but I can't see any of the boys. He must read my mind, because he informs, "Virginia took the boys to the lake for the afternoon."

I nod, even though he can't see me.

He leads me to his office where he motions for me to take a seat. He sits on the other side of the desk I designed for him. He's still smiling and I don't know why. I haven't said a word. I've tried. When he opened the door, I tried. I tried again as he was leading me down the hallway into this room. I even opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

I squirm in the seat, trying to adjust my position. I want to look tough, like I'm in control. I square my shoulders and lift my chin. Then I open my mouth... nothing.

His smile gets wider. He unlocks his desk drawer and pulls out a little black box.

"I was wondering when you'd come around," he says.

I still can't speak.

"This is her mom's."

And my heart beats out of my chest.

"When do you plan on doing it?"

I swallow down my nerves and man up.

"I was hoping to do it September twenty-fifth, sir."

His eyes go wide.

"I thought it would be nice if you and the boys, and your wife were there to witness it."

His eyes glaze over as he nods once. "It sounds perfect, son."

SEPTEMBER TWENTY-FIFTH

I'm so fucking nervous my eye begins to twitch. Twitchy, that's probably what the boys would nickname me for a year.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get it to stop. Surely I must look crazy right now—suited up, standing under a random tree, yards away from a huge family paying respect to their lost mother and wife.

I blow out a breath. I need to calm down.

Pressing my palm against my chest, I close my eyes and start counting in my head. It doesn't seem to get better.

Then I feel a tiny hand brush against my leg and fingers wrap around mine.

I open one eye and look down at Lachlan. He beams up at me, with crooked teeth on display. He's just started getting his adult teeth through. "Daddy says it's time," he whispers. Kid's cute. He won't be much longer. His older brothers have already started talking him into doing and saying some stupid shit, but I'd virtually watched him grow from a tiny baby into this boy, and soon enough, he'd be a teenager. I bet he'll be like Little Logan. That kid's a punk; his name suits him.

We walk hand in hand over to his mother's headstone.

I wanted to give them all time to pay their respects as a family. She waits at the front of the others with that same sad smile I'd gotten used to over the last six years. Six years. Holy shit.

"It'll be okay," Lachlan whispers. Then he takes off, running toward his dad. And it starts again. The nerves. The sweaty palms. The racing heart. The fucking eye twitch.

I stand in front of her, my ribs aching from the pounding of my heart against it. It feels like it could break bone and skin and rip through me at any second. I place my hand in my pocket and feel around for what I need.

"Are you okay, Cam?" Her voice drips with concern. "You look kind of pale."

I gaze up at her dad. He just nods and tries to smile. He fails, but I get it. I can't even imagine what this must feel like for him. Maybe he feels like he's about to lose the only woman left in his life, but he knows me better than that. He knows I'd never take her away.

I eye all her brothers one by one, almost as if asking for permission. No one gives me an out. I finish on Lachlan, whose smile's unchanged. He nods his head with as much enthusiasm as his seven-year-old body can muster.

Then I give all my attention to the girl in front of me.

Lucy.

She must've been following my gaze because her head slowly turns from her brothers behind her to me.

Eyes narrowed, she asks, "What's going on?"

Her gaze searches me from head to toe, and then back up again. But she doesn't get all the way up—her eyes fixate on what I'm holding. They widen. As if in slow motion, her hand comes up to cover her mouth.