The crinkles around his eyes came out, but only for an instant, before his face went back to immovable. He was stone, and I was what I always was: malleable clay, ready to be squeezed into whatever someone wanted me to be. Something that wasn’t me. It was why I’d run from my family, from my previous life. I’d chosen to fit my own mold.
But not right now.
Right now, I would do anything to make him happy, to make his impendingnobecome ayes.
“We’ve been having some really good sex. It’s easy to get confused?—”
“I’m not confused?—”
“And the winner is Nat Breckenridge!” Autumn’s voice carried over the applause and whistles coming from the stage. “Has anyone seen Nat?”
Cheers of “Nat! Nat! Nat!” filled the air.
“This was a mistake.” Jack flinched as he said it, giving me a modicum of hope that this was going to turn for the better, despite the painful words. “We won’t fuck up again.”
And there it was. Like a blow to the stomach. I could barely catch my breath. The space between us grew wider, anuncrossable crevasse filled with all my hope.A mistake? I bit my lip and stared at my shoes as tears blurred my vision.
“Nat—” From his mouth, the word was heartbreaking. This was killing him, too.
The flicker of warmth that went across his face made me pause, but only for a moment. He was scared. Too scared to do something here, even with my heart on a platter.
Then fight or flight kicked in, thank god, and I turned from him. “I’m sorry you think we were a mistake.”
He said nothing as I ran from our hidden place behind the trees.
The jubilant crowd cheered on the person who’d won the camper talent portion, and he was bowing and blowing kisses back at them. I took a deep breath, shaking off my feelings. I somehow put back on the Breckenridge mask I’d thrown away so long ago. I had never felt like myself with my family and their friends, so I’d leaned into this more palatable version of myself. I hated that I’d done this before, and it was even more unsettling to do so now.
But still, I made myself smaller and ignored what I felt. Only, right now on stage, I was thankful for it. I smiled at the crowd and bowed, accepting my place as winner of the Camp Wars competition, glad it wasn’t going to be dragged out the whole summer. I shook the bedazzled kids' soccer trophy above my head, faking enthusiasm. The Kevin Blevins Award was practically falling apart. Just like my heart.
I’d won, but it felt like I’d lost everything.
The crowd cheered for me. Jack didn’t cheer. He was nowhere to be found.
The realization hit me full force. These campers didn’t know me. My friends barely knew me. But Jack did. And he’d made it clear exactly what I was to him.
It’ll be okay. It was a lie I’d told myself a thousand times. It had to work now, too.
I stepped off the stage as fast as I could. Putting on my brave face was the most I could manage, but I’d done it. I made my way back to my newly constructed cabin in a fog.
I looked at the situation from a reasonable person’s perspective and knew he was right.
I was great at making mistakes.
How many wrongmoves could a person make in a lifetime?
Because I was pretty sure I’d hit the cap, and I was only thirty-three.
I threw clothes into my bag, rushing around my newly fixed room like the Tasmanian Devil.
I couldn’t believe I’d told him I loved him. I wasn’t known for holding in my emotions these days, but I’d thought I could when it came to my romantic feelings for Jack. My other feelings, those of animosity and frustration, had been loud and clear.
He’d shown up for me. Stopped caring about the competition we’d been fighting our way through because I was left hanging. And he’d done so much more than that. He’d fixed my cabin and took me on an excursion perfectly tailored to me. He’d carried me in the pouring rain, for fuck’s sake.
Maybe that was just who he was. Maybe, to him, it didn’t matter that it’d been me.
That fucking hurt.
And the worst part? He’d told me in advance that he wasn’t into the idea, and I hadn’t listened. I let good old too-much-Natalie blurt the most vulnerable thing she could to a man she knew wasn’t interested.
