“So then let’s start over. No more faking it, no more half-truths. Just you and me being stupidly in love and happy.”
Cam’s gaze softens, falling somewhere between sad and pained, when he murmurs, “I want that. I do. But what would that even look like? I mean, after this weekend, we’re going back to our separate lives.”
“Separate lives, but they’re still in the same city.”
“For now, maybe. But you only have one more year at Leighton and then what? You end up getting a job somewhere else—somewhere I can’t go?” His tongue pokes at his cheek while he glances out to the water for a brief moment. “We may have used long distance as the bullshit excuse with anyone in the press, but it’s still a real issue. You saw what happened with Lexi and Wyatt.”
“But they’re not us, Cam.” My palm leaves his neck as I gesture vaguely around us. “And honestly, I don’t even know what this ‘job’ you’re talking about would be. Not really. And at this point, I’m starting to think maybe my dad was right. Maybe I’ve made a massive mistake with this degree, wasting all this time on art with zero prospects for a career.”
“You know that’s not true,” he whispers, and I immediately shake my head.
“Except I don’t,” I admit, despite how fucking embarrassing it is. “Baby, I still have no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going. I have no fucking clue if I’ve been following this path for all the wrong reasons or if it’s actually one that will lead me to finding what I really want. And, yeah, it’s fucking terrifying, having no idea what the future holds, but I do know I want youin mine. That’s the only thing I’m certain of anymore.”
“I want that too. I swear, I do. I just…”
His brows furrow, and he looks away, keeping his attention trained on the lake in the distance. I can see the war he’s battling inside him, same as last night. Only this time, he’s not leaning on me to help him through it; he’s pulling away. And the longer he won’t look at me, the more I can feel him slowly slip from my grasp, and that’s before he says the words that nearly cut my heart out of my chest.
“How are we supposed to not constantly wait for the other shoe to drop? My career is hard enough on families who are together all the time. You know firsthand. The possibility of adding distance is just…too much.”
“Then we figure it out, right? Airplanes exist. So do long weekends and holiday breaks. And in the meantime, there’s FaceTime calls.” Gingerly, I cup his cheek and turn his head, forcing him to face me. “We can make that work. I mean, you do love the sound of my voice, right?”
A pained grimace pulls his features taut while he nods. “I love that and so much more about you, Lo. Fuck, I love everything about you, but it doesn’t remove the possibility that we’re trying to force this thing to work when maybe it’s not meant to.”
The words might as well be a slap in the face with the way they force me to take a step back. Away from him, away from the negativity laced in his statement.
No, not a statement. The fucking lie.
“You can’t possibly believe that,” I mutter, but he just shakes his head.
“I don’t want to believe it, but I can’t help wondering if we’re just kidding ourselves here, thinking this can work.”
I’m not sure if I’m more angry or worried he’d stoop to this level to convince me; saying we aren’t supposed to be together. Because that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. Or maybe it’s himtrying to convince himself.
“You and I both know this is it, Cam. It may have started out fake, but this thing between us is real, and it’s worth fighting for, worth going to any fucking lengths to keep.” I shake my head, a little scoff coming out. “The real question isn’t if we’re meant to be; it’s why you’re trying to make excuses for why we aren’t.”
“They aren’t excuses, they’re factors in making a choice. They’re reasons plenty of other people would call it quits and walk away, and they aren’t even our biggest one.” His fingers slide through his hair before he tosses a helpless hand up between us. “You said it yourself. I represent everything you’ve spent your life hating. My career, my friendships, my entire world is all tied up in a legacy you want nothing to do with. Something you’ve worked tirelessly to distance yourself from, and being with me would only bring you right back into it.”
“But it’d bemychoice to do that, Cam. And I would—”
“I know you would, Lo. But it would be at the cost of you getting to figure out who you are outside of me and your family and hockey and all the shit you’ve been trying to escape.”
His voice cracks on the last few words, but it’s the pain etched in his eyes as tears well along the waterline—the agonizing torment as he looks at me—that nearly does me in.
“You may not see it right now, but you have such a bright future waiting just around the corner. You just have to believe in yourself the way I do. You have to trust in your talent enough to let the world see it. And the thought of you not chasing this dream you’re so reluctant to admit is what you want…just to be with me?” He pauses, swallowing hard as he shakes his head. “As loved as I feel by knowing you’d make that kind of sacrifice, I’d just be waiting for you to resent me one day.”
“The only thing I’m going to resent is you not letting me fight for you. Forus,”I implore, feeling a sharp pain at the back of my throat. “Baby, why won’t you let me?”
“Because we have too many things stacked against us. The odds aren’t—”
“Fuck the odds!” I shout, gesturing wildly in his direction. “Isn’t that what you’ve been saying since the beginning? With you and going pro? With me and my art? Why doesn’t it apply toustoo?”
Why are you just giving up?
“Because your future, your happiness? That’s not somethingI’mwilling to sacrifice.” Something in my expression must give away my bewilderment at his statement, because he laughs humorlessly while shaking his head. “I wasn’t kidding when I said your speech hit home. I heard and felt it all, loud and clear. And I won’t let you pick me over everything you’ve ever wanted, even if you don’t know what that is yet.”
The muscle in my jaw tics, hating the conviction in his voice—the finality in it. Like he’s already made the decision, and there’s no changing his mind.
“But I love you,” I whisper, wishing those three words would be enough.
