“Are you screwed? Figuratively, I mean. I already know about literally.”
I shake my head. “I left. I mean, I chose to leave.” I couldn’t sound more conflicted if I tried. “I left.”
“You said that already.”
I frown at her. “Don’t challenge me.”
She holds up her hands. “I’m not challenging you.”
“Yes, you are. You’re pointing out I’m repeating myself.”
“Not a challenge.”
“Coming from you it is.”
She wraps an arm around my shoulders and directs me to the kitchen table. “I can’t decide if I like how well you know me, or if it’s a colossal inconvenience.”
“The former.” I lay the mail on the table and it tips over, scattering. “You could’ve thrown away the junk.”
She shrugs. “How am I supposed to know what constitutes junk for you?” She holds up a bill. “I happen to think this is junk.”
I stare at her, and she laughs. “Ok, you’re right. I was being lazy.” She takes the seat beside me. “I knew you’d get together with Gabriel up there.”
I groan loudly. “You should’ve dragged me home with you the day you left.”
Her head cocks sideways. “Why?”
My legs cross under the table and bump into Cam. She allows me space to bring my legs up onto the chair, tucking them into my body and resting my chin on my knees. “Because now I’m wondering if it would’ve been easier to never see him again.” My poor, mangled heart. We were doing ok before Sugar Creek. Not great, and maybe we were still muddling our way through, but we were ok.
“Why?”
“Because he broke me, and I don’t think I should go backwards. I should go forward.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“Why?”
Her repetitive question is grating on my nerves. “Because it is.”
“Why?”
“Say something else!”
“Why do you believe you should go forward? Why do you believe by being with Gabriel you are going backward?”
I sit back, considering Camryn’s questions. “When I think of Gabriel, it’s hard to see a future, because he consumes all of my past.”
“Not all of it.”
I squint at her. “More, please.”
“You were twenty-three when you met Gabriel?”
I nod.
“You lived twenty-two years without him. Not just without him, you didn’t even know he existed. You had other boyfriends, you weathered Mom’s passing, you practically raised me, took care of the house and Dad. You got yourself to college, you graduated and went on to earn your Master’s. Gabriel doesn’t own those things. He does not consume all of your past. Just a piece of it. An admittedly huge part,” she allows, “but not all of it.”
