He told her about the private plane crash that killed both his father and his grandfather close to five years ago. And how the grief was, at first, unbearable, especially for his Grandma Lo. But they’d come together, helped strengthen one another after the loss. Camila couldn’t help but admire them.
Soon the conversation turned to stories inherpast. Camila kept calm as she explained. “They died together in a tragic accident,” she explained. “I was staying with my grandparents at the time. Luckily, I was already quite close to them. It just made sense that they’d be the ones to raise me.”
James shook his head in stunned silence. “And your father’s parents?”
“I never knew them,” she said. “His father was never in the picture. His mom died when he was nineteen.”
When she went on to tell him about the loss of her grandparents, Camila was touched by the tenderness in James’ response.
“Man,” he said, voice somber. “It’s like burying two sets of parents.”
“True,” she agreed. “But it hadn’t been the same as losing my parents at a young age. Grandma Lopez had been steadily declining for years before she died. And Gramps, while he enjoyed pretty decent physical health through his old age, he got diagnosed with heart failure a few months before he died.
“What I mean is, neither was taken suddenly or without warning, and I’m grateful for that.”
“Wow,” James said. “I’ve got a lot to learn from you.”
Camila was resting her head on his shoulder, but she pulled away to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you lost four of the closest people in your life—your whole family, from what it sounds like—and instead of being bitter and angry you…point out what you’re grateful for?” He shifted in the seat until he faced her. “I’m serious, Camila. I want to be like you someday.”
A rush of warmth circled her heart. She might be suspended from a hammock far above the waves, but James’ comment lifted her higher still. She basked in the feelings of hope and happiness and potential, until a sliver of guilt crept in.
You didn’t even trust him with the truth.
She shook it off. If he earned her trust, she’d tell him about it one day.
But would she? She hadn’t even told Gypsy.
“The hardest part of not remembering much about my mom—both of my parents, actually—is that it’s oddly easy to doubt their love for me. I worry that, since I don’t have memories of them tucking me in at night, hugging me tight or tickling my toes…that none of those things ever happened.” She shrugged. “I mentioned that to my Grandma once, and it really upset her. Enough that I didn’t bring it up again.”
“But she told you how much they loved you, right?” James prompted.
Camila gave him a nod. “Yes, of course. But what else would she say?”
James held her gaze. “Yeah, but how else would they have felt? Really, Camila. Parents…they love their kids. They just do.”
She grinned, liking how easily the sentence came to him. He’d been loved well by his parents, and she was happy for him.
“You know,” she said, shifting the focus back to him. “I think you’re already doing pretty amazing things. I mean, you lost your brother and best friend a year ago, and you’re still working hard, doing your best to move on.” She drifted off there as James shook his head.
“Not really.” He took Camila’s hand, rested it palm up on his lap, and traced a finger over the lines and crevices of her palm. It felt good. Surprisingly so.
He traced up the length of her fingers one by one, seeming to gather his thoughts. Or maybe debating whether or not to share a particular detail.
She wouldn’t blame him for holding back. Heaven knew she was.
With his gaze set on her hand, he spoke up at last. “I feel responsible for Winston’s overdose.”
The waves rushed and roared beneath them at his words, the response seeming to mimic the reaction in her heart. An urgency to correct him—to assure James that he wasn’t.
But she knew, from experience, that he needed to be heard, understood. Not dismissed. “Why?” she asked.
His eyes clenched shut for a long blink before he answered. “My siblings don’t know this. My mom doesn’t either. But I really laid into him the night before he died. We’d all done what we could to help him over the years. Everything from giving him money to denying him money, to interventions he both accepted and declined at different times.”
He lifted his gaze to her then, cupping her hand firmly. “I was fed up with him. I’d given him the chance to shadow a friend of mine, Tyler Lang. He’s an entrepreneur in the architectural industry. Winston claimed he wanted to invest in his company, so I put myself out there for him, bought him a ticket to meet the guy at the Cincinnati airport. It would’ve been a great way for him to break into the industry as an investor. Not that he had a lot of his own money at that point, but we all agreed to help him out in that way, as long as he was doing something useful with the funds. Anyway, the best part about the job is that it would’ve gotten him away from LA and the temptations he faced there. Start new, you know?”
James nodded for a beat. “I really thought he was going to do it that time. Just…leave all the crud behind once and for all. He was starting to get clean too. Showing a lot of promise.
