Chapter fifteen
Beckett
To distract myself from how nervous I am, standing at the arrivals area of the Victoria airport, I try to imagine how this would play out in a cheesy movie.
Cam would walk down the hall, her eyes searching for me. We’d connect and both break out into a run through the other people. She’d reach me, jump into my arms, I’d catch her of course, and we’d do one of those slow-mo spin and kiss moments.
Unfortunately for me, my life is not a cheesy movie. The chances of Cam running into my arms are slim to none, and the chances of us ever having a slow-mo kiss are basically zero.
Our wedding day was the only time our lips have ever met.
And it was fucking perfect…albeit over too soon.
When I spot a familiar head of long almost black hair piled into a messy bun, my heart breathes a sigh of relief. After that first night she was gone, Cam and I talked every single evening over video chat. She didn’t ask me to stay on the phone until she fell asleep again, but I did it anyway. I know she isn’t sleeping well, and with the difference in time zones, it’s not as if I sacrificed a damn thing watching her slowly drift off.
I fully expected her to call me out on my bold statement about her being my wife that night, but she didn’t. Maybe she was saving it for an in person conversation, I don’t know.
“Hey, you,” she says with a tired smile, dropping her bags at our feet and wrapping her arms around my torso. I’m caught slightly off guard by the intensity of her embrace but recover quickly, holding her in close.
It might not be a spin and kiss, but it’s something.
“How was the flight?” I ask when she releases me. I bend down and grab one of her bags, earning a glare that I pointedly ignore.
“Bumpy. Lots of turbulence over the Rockies.” Cam shudders. For all that the girl likes to feel like she’s flying, with her aerial hoop work and playground antics, she hates turbulent plane rides.
“That sucks. Did you manage to get all the stuff done in Manitoba that you wanted to?”
Despite our nightly calls, we kept the conversation away from Cam’s grandfather and the shit she was sorting out in Cliveden. I could tell she needed a break from all that, so instead, I told her what was happening in Dogwood Cove. We discussed some ideas for her mural on the community center, one night we just watched a movie together — me in my bed, Cam in hers.
I was happy to provide the distraction, but it means I don’t know how everything went out there, if she ran into any problems, or if she has to go back. I’m trying really hard not to be pushy, not to insert myself into anything she doesn’t want me a part of, but I’m also desperate to know if she’s okay.
“Yeah. Selling the two cars was easy. Barkley stopped by with an update on the trust, and he offered to be the point person with the estate management company.”
When she doesn’t offer anymore details, I bite back the questions I’m dying to ask. Does her grandfather’s lawyer still believe we’re happily married? Did we pull it off so she can access her money?
The protective instinct in me rears its head, wanting to shield her from anything that could bring more pain. Cam lost her grandfather, her job, and her home — even if she hated it. And if Barkley suspects that we’re not the loving couple he assumed we are, she’ll lose the inheritance that she needs to start living her life the way she wants.
I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
We reach my car in the airport parking lot and stow her stuff in the back. She came back with more than she left with, leading me to assume she’s brought more of her own belongings.
As if she’s reading my mind, Cam says, “I packed up the stuff of Grandpa’s I want to save and put it in a storage locker out there. Paid for the year up front so I have time. My apartment came furnished so there wasn’t much I had to deal with. The landlord let me out of my lease, and it didn’t take long to pack what I had left. The rest of my things are either here —” she gestured to the back of the car “— or being shipped to your place. I hope it’s okay I did that.”
“Of course it is, Cam,” I’m quick to reply. I can hear the exhaustion in her voice. I need to get her home.
Home.God, it sounds so good to think that in relation to her. I didn’t expect to miss her as much as I did this past week with her in Manitoba. But I guess being around her 24/7 for all this time, I got used to the little things. Like making a larger pot of coffee in the morning, cooking for two, not just one, and my favourite. Coming home in the evening not to an empty house but a house with lights on and life inside.
The hour long drive back to Dogwood Cove is quiet. But it’s a peaceful quiet. I’m starting to feel hopeful that her trip gave her some much needed closure on that chapter of her life.
When I turn off the island highway and head into Dogwood Cove, Cam releases a contended sigh. “There’s something so magical about being close to the ocean,” she says quietly. Those are the first words she’s said since we left the airport.
“I always took it for granted,” I admit. “But you’re right. There’s an energy that comes with being close to the water.”
“I love it here.”
I chance a look over to the passenger seat, but Cam’s staring out the window. Her profile doesn’t offer any clue to what she’s thinking. But those words make me yearn for a future where she stays in town.
I know that going down this path could easily lead to heartbreak for me. If Cam stays, but keeps the line drawn between us firmly at friendship, then one day after our agreement ends, I could be faced with the unpleasant reality of seeing Cam out with someone else.
