“I didn’t leave. I—”
“You did.” He cuts me off. Closing my eyes I try to calm myself and explain why I left the way I did when I was eighteen.
“I did what I thought was best Camden. If I called you, or told you where I was, you would have come after me.” My face contorts as I bare my soul, wishing he could see I was a confused person four years ago. I missed my mom so much when I left for college, I didn’t want to accept that she was gone. My dad pounded in my head that I needed to leave Chicago, get away and try new things.
“Exactly. We would have been together, what was so wrong about that?” he asks. With one hand on the wheel he glares at me with a look of hurt in his eyes. Anger laces its way through that he doesn’t see I was doing the selfless thing.
“You would have thrown everything away for me and in the end I would have been a pregnant teenager while you worked some dead end job trying to pay rent in our shit trailer, all the while hating me. All because I was selfish and made you give it all up!” My face reddens as the urge to cry becomes overwhelming.
His narrow eyes slowly lift, softening his angry look. But only briefly, as his jaw ticks and his brows pinch together in frustration.
“Bottom line, you left and coming back here thinking we’d get back together was plain stupid on your part.”
I open my mouth to protest me wanting to get back with him, but the words don’t come out. Hurt chokes me of a rational explanation. Through all of his games and flirting I thought getting back together might have been a possibility… ‘til now.
Hurt strikes my chest so hard I have to look the other way as a tear manages to escape my left eye.
“I guess so,” I mumble, as my hand searches for the door handle, opening it, I grab my bag and get out. “Thanks for the ride.” Venom drips from my voice as I slam the door.
Rain splinters my skin it’s falling so hard, wind sweeping my hair around my face. I make my way onto the sidewalk and peer up under my wet lashes, I’m several blocks away from home. I should look for a train.
Camden drives beside me and rolls the window down, the rumble of his car barely heard over the storm.
“Damn it, Tate! Get back in the car!”
“Screw off!”
“Get in the fucking car, Tate!”
Ignoring him I continue walking. “I’m not going to do this, I’ll drive off,” he threatens.
“Then go!” I throw my hand out, gesturing for him to just leave.
He stops the car, and gets out. His feet stomping in the rain as he marches toward me.
“It wasn’t up for you to decide Tate, leaving me here to rot, that should have been left for me to decide!” His hair is soaked, sticking to his forehead as he yells at me.
“I did what I thought was best given the circumstances. When I left, I wasn’t the Tate that you loved. I was a shell of a person, I was lost and scared. I didn’t want to ruin your life while I figured out mine.”
My voice cracks with emotion. This has been weighing heavy on me for four fucking years. I had my dad in my ear telling me my mom wanted me to go to college, and at that point I would have done anything for my mom. Leaving hurt me more than he’ll ever know, but staying would have killed me. My family was broken, and I was lost.
Both of us pant, as we eye each other. Expelling years of things we’ve wanted to say but never got the chance.
Looking the other way he swipes his wet hair from his face, he can’t even stand to look at me and it hurts more than anything he could say.
A scream sounds from the distance, and my head whips in the direction. It’s close. I look around trying to see where we are, what part of Chicago we’re in.
“We need to go,” Camden’s voice goes serious. His hand pressing on the small of my back in a protective manner.
“No, I’m not getting back in that car with you.” I pull from his hand.
I can’t get back in that car knowing how much Camden dislikes me, knowing that our chances of getting together will never happen. I knew over the years the likelihood of that happening were slim. I thought he’d move on and get married, or at the very least we’d never run into each other again. But seeing him now, I can’t lie-I want to be with him again. I never stopped loving him.
“You get in the car, or I will put you in the car,” he threatens.
I raise a brow, as the scream sounds again. It’s bone chilling, and has me double thinking my stubbornness.
“Fine!” I throw my hands up in defeat and stomp off.
Getting into the car we don’t make eye contact, there’s no stolen glances even. It’s intense, and I’m literally counting down the miles ‘til we get to Chloe’s place. I’ve told him everything. Why I left? Why I came back? It’s up to him if he wants to forgive me, or be angry.
Driving into our neighborhood I point at Chloe’s house.