"Go lay on the couch," my dad commanded. "I'll be right back."
During high school, I used to get migraines like this at least once per week, but they'd vanished once I'd graduated. That was about the time my father deduced that my triggers were stress and sleep deprivation.
I'd experienced both of those in spades the past week.
I did as my father directed and stretched out on the sofa. The pain in my head immediately lessened. My eyes closed of their own volition. I sighed as I settled deeper into the cushions.
Something cool and wet was draped over my forehead, which made me sigh again. It felt fantastic.
"Better?" my dad asked, his voice quiet and soothing.
"Yeah," I whispered.
"Where's your ibuprofen?"
"Top shelf of the cabinet in the bathroom. I have a container with all my medicine in it there."
"I'll be right back," he said.
I heard his shoes on the wood floor as he headed toward my bedroom. I was drifting when he returned.
He cupped my hand in his and placed the pills in my palm. "Here. Take three."
I sat up, my movements slow and careful so I didn't jostle my aching head. I placed the pills in my mouth and took the glass of water my father held out. Once I swallowed them, Dad stuck a pillow where I'd been laying moments before and helped me ease back down.
Then he covered my forehead and my eyes with the cool, wet cloth. It felt heavenly.
"So what brought this on?" he asked.
I didn't answer at first because I wasn't sure what Brody may have told my parents. And I didn't want my dad to be mad at Brody. Yes, Brody had made a mistake, but he and I had worked it out and I didn't want my parents to hold a grudge. Not that they tended to do that, but my dad was especially protective of me and I wasn't sure how he might handle it.
"Cam," he prompted.
"Brody and I had a little bit of a..." I trailed off, searching for the right word to describe what had happened.
"Break up?" my father asked, his voice bland.
"Sort of." I hesitated. "He did something that hurt me badly. He had reasons I can understand, but he didn't talk to me about any of it first. He apologized but he's in a bit of situation right now and we can't really spend any time together."
"You mean the mess with his ex?"
"Yeah. She threatened to ruin me financially and she was winding up to throw the first punch when he gave in to what she wanted."
"And what did she want?"
"Me out of his life. And Jacks' life."
"So he acquiesced?"
I couldn't read any emotion in my dad's voice but his choice of words seemed too stilted. I didn't want to take the cloth off my eyes and have to see the disappointment on his face. "Yes. Which I understand and I might have agreed to a short break from each other if he'd talked to me about it. It was the fact that he didn't that upset me so badly."
My father was silent. I was afraid to look at him, but I lifted the corner of the folded washcloth and peeked out from beneath it. "We worked it out, Dad."
He was staring down at his hands but looked up when I spoke. His eyes were filled with sadness and worry. "Are you sure you want to take this on, Cameron? I love Brody and Jacks, but if you continue that relationship, you will always have to deal with Monica. I doubt this will be the last time she tries to worm her way between the two of you."
My father was right. I wouldn't be able to escape Brody's ex-wife or her scheming. But I couldn't control what she chose to do. I could only choose how I reacted to it.
I wasn't going to give up the man I loved just because of her. She could only remove me from his life if I allowed it. And I never would.
