"Yes, but you were also seventeen at the time."
"And?" He shrugged. "Competitiveness gets the best of all of us. It's fine. Really."
///
I let out a breath, nodding and thanking him with a smile. Reese let go of my arm and moved the conversation to school stuff as we finished cleaning up the game. Once it was packed away, we made our way to the kitchen.
Mom was nowhere to be found, but the fresh pitcher of sangria sat in the middle of the kitchen island. Reese poured us both a glass, handing me mine before lifting his own to his lips.
"I wanted to thank you," he said after his first drink. "For the other night at the fundraiser. It's been a long time since I had a moment like that." His eyes were on his hands, and he shook his head. "I'm just glad you were there."
I smiled. "Me, too. And hey, I was just returning the favor. Remember the Incline?" I chuckled. "That was my breaking moment."
"I remember."
Reese's eyes found mine, and I let him hold my gaze a moment before I took another drink.
"Congratulations on your new gig, by the way," I said. "I'm excited to come see you play."
"Thank you." Reese smiled, but it was weak. "I love teaching, don't get me wrong, but I miss playing for me. I'm hoping this will get me back to that."
He opened his mouth to say something more, but Cameron and Dad joined us in the kitchen before he could.
"I think I'd like to go home, if it's okay with you," Cameron said softly, and I could tell by the heaviness in his eyes that my dad had forced him to talk. Cameron hated to talk, and my heart ached for him, my hand reaching out for his.
"Of course. I'll grab our coats."
He leaned into me, wrapping me in a hug before he let me go, and I slipped into the foyer. Mom was coming down the stairs after taking a phone call, and I let her know we were leaving just as everyone else joined us from the kitchen.
We all hugged goodbye, Dad and Reese lightening the mood with jokes as we did. Cameron was quiet, but he did shake Reese's hand with a spoken apology before we left.
"It's all good, man. Rematch sometime." Reese smiled, shaking Cameron's hand firmly with a wink. "This time, you can be banker."
Cameron forced a smile, but I knew he was tired and desperate to get out of there. I promised Mom we'd set a date for dinner soon, and with that, Cameron and I were out the door and on the road home.
The first few miles were silent, but once we were on the highway, I reached over and squeezed Cameron's knee.
"You okay over there?"
"I'm fine."
I nodded, knowing he wouldn't want to talk more than what he'd already had to do with Dad. So instead, I slid my hand up the inside of his thigh, slowly trailing my fingers up until they brushed over the zipper of his jeans.
He inhaled a stiff breath, his eyes flashing to mine before they were on the road again.
I rubbed the bulge there, and Cameron groaned, squirming under my hand. I wanted him to take me again, the way he had the night after happy hour. It'd been weeks, and I knew that release would help alleviate the pressure he felt from the night.
So, when we finally made it home, I crawled on top of Cameron in the driver seat. I kissed him hard, letting him know I was there, that I wanted to take whatever it was he needed to give. He worked me to a release with his fingers under my dress, but when I was done, he wouldn't let me do the same for him.
"I just want to go to sleep," he said softly, kissing my lips with a gentle need. I grinded my hips, rolling against him, but his hands gripped me a little tighter. "Please."
After a quick shower, we both laid down in bed, and Cameron finally seemed to be feeling a little better. His fingers drew circles on my shoulder and mine skated lightly over his bare chest.
"I love you," I whispered after a moment.
He sighed, kissing my hair, and with a gentle squeeze of where he held my shoulder, he said, "I love you, too."
He was right there, my husband, and yet he was nowhere near me at all.
I wondered if we'd ever really be in the same room ever again.
Reese
That night when I'd made it home, I propped myself up by the sliding glass door and lit a cigarette, my mind on Charlie.
It was my first real interaction with Cameron, and I'd studied him the way I used to study music as a kid. I wanted to know what made him tick, what made him falter - and both answers seemed to lie within Charlie.
He was so tuned into her, into her every move and word, but in a way that made me think he was unsure how he felt about her anymore. I couldn't quite figure him out, but one thing was sure - I'd gotten under his skin.
Charlie couldn't see it yet, but I already knew her feelings for Cameron were muddled. She loved him, that was a fact, but he didn't love her the same way he used to. It bothered her. She was trying to reach him, but it was like being on the inside of a black mirror. She could see him, but he couldn't see her - couldn't hear her as she tried to break through to him.
///
Neither one of them was happy, least of all Charlie, but it wasn't my place to show her that.
No, it was my place to be her friend, to bring her happiness in any way I could.
So, that's what I vowed to do. I would be her friend, her best friend, and I would sit back and let her see what it could be like to be heard again, to be loved again - the way she deserved to be.
I inhaled a long drag from my cigarette, watching the smoke filter from my mouth and out the sliding glass door.
I wished I could leave her alone. I wished I cared that she was married.
But after just one night with Cameron, there was no use pretending.
I simply didn't care.
I wanted her, and it was clear to me that Cameron didn't - not anymore. I didn't know how long it would take before Charlie would wake up, before she'd see she deserved more, but I knew it didn't matter.
I would wait for her.
I would wait forever.
Charlie
That Sunday, I woke to the sound of Jane and Edward tittering in their cage. And I should have known then that it would be a bad day.
It wasn't that my Budgies getting anxious for me to take their cover off and welcome a new day was out of the ordinary, but on that Sunday morning, they weren't supposed to be what woke me up. I shouldn't have stirred to the morning sun warming the bed too much, causing me to kick the covers back and peel off my socks. Jane and Edward should have been woken up by me that morning, not the other way around.
It was our eight-year wedding anniversary, and that meant I should have been woken up by the smell of cinnamon.
I rubbed my eyes with warm hands, letting my feet drop down over the edge of the bed. A yawn broke through me as I checked the time on the alarm clock right next to my favorite framed wedding photo of me and Cameron.
It was just past nine.
Jane and Edward were even more excited now that they heard me moving. I whistled along with their chirps as I padded over to pull their cover off, and as soon as it was gone, Jane sprang to life. She hopped from swing to swing inside the cage, feathers a blur as she chirped her good morning. Edward looked like he was as sleepy as I was.
"Good morning, my lovelies," I sang. Their food and water was still good from the day before, though their cage needed a cleaning. I mentally added it to my to-do list for the week. Once they were both bathing in the morning sun, I inhaled a deep breath, wondering if I'd somehow missed it before.
But still, no cinnamon.
Well, it is still early. Maybe he's just getting started, I thought, as I wrapped myself in a robe and made my way down the hall. I didn't spot Cameron in the kitchen as I crossed over the bridge, my hand trailing the wooden rail, and he was still out of sight by the time my feet hit the bottom stair.
I checked his study first, but it was empty, and the house was suddenly entirely too quiet. Every step of my bare feet on the hardwood floors seemed to echo, every breath felt too loud. Desperate to break the silence, I flipped on the stereo in the kitchen as I entered, finding a little bit of ease as Adele slowly crooned in through the speakers.
A pot of coffee was already made, though it'd gone cold, and there was a note written on a torn off piece of notebook paper beside it.
Client called this morning - emergency with a litigation case. Ran into the office to work through it. Didn't want to wake you. Be back for dinner. Love you.
I stared so long at Cameron's neat handwriting on that torn off sheet of paper, the letters blurred together. Soon, the words didn't make sense anymore - not that they had in the first place. Before I realized it, I was standing in front of the calendar hanging on our refrigerator, and I triple checked the date. I must have been wrong. I must have had the days mixed up.