CHAPTER Twenty-One
I once was a believer in wishful thinking. I thought if I told myself that I was ok enough times that I could actually start to believe it. That somehow, I would eventually morph into the perfect picture of normalcy. That I could be somewhat happy.
I was wrong.
I wasn’t ok.
Not even a little bit.
This…sickness. This affliction… it ensured that I’d never be normal. That I’d never find contentment. That I would live out my days alone and unloved. And I honestly thought I was fine with that realization. I was resigned. No one deserved to have to deal with my shit. I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy. Especially since my worst enemy was me.
I lay curled up in a ball on my bed, humiliated and mortified beyond belief, staring at the glass jar of tiny paper stars.
253.
I know I should have added one. I know I should have brought that number to an even 254, but I wasn’t afraid. It wasn’t fear that consumed me. It was rage.
Why couldn’t I have just fought through it? Why did I have to freak the f*ck out like I always did? Why couldn’t I be normal for one damn day?
Angry tears leaked from my tired eyes, trailing saltwater over my nose and onto the comforter. I brushed them away furiously. I was so sick and tired of crying. Of feeling sorry for myself.
F*ck me. That’s right—f*ck me! F*ck my stupid, hurt feelings. F*ck my inability to get over my past. F*ck my fear and all the things it crippled me from doing. F*ck it all!
I punched the pillow in frustration, wishing I could be brave enough to take my anger out on the person who deserved it. It was all his fault. All his doing. If he hadn’t been such a disgusting, sadistic piece of shit, I wouldn’t be like this. I could lead a normal life. I could find happiness. I could find love.
That was a lie. I had found happiness. Hell, maybe I had even found love. I just couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t let myself believe it. I couldn’t feel it. Bad things happened when I let myself feel. There was ugliness in love, at least for me there was. It wasn’t the same for regular people as it was for me, Dom and Angel. We were exempt from the romantic type of affection that movies and books boasted about. Life had ruined us for that type of ardor. Now we could only love each other. It was better that way. There was no pain or deceit in it. There were no expectations or regrets. It was safe. It was selfless. It was all we had.
No, that wasn’t true either.
“Kam? You awake?” Angel whispered from my doorway. I ground my teeth. I wished I could close and lock that damn door.
“No.”
As if my answer was an invitation, Angel entered and climbed onto my bed, spooning me from behind.
“You ok, love?”
“No.”
“But you will be, sweetie. You will be,” she replied, squeezing me tight. I wanted to pull away from her embrace, but I knew it was more for her comfort than mine. I had scared her today. Dom had witnessed more of my meltdowns than he could count, but Angel was still new to them. Sure, she’d learned the hard way when it came to enclosed spaces and darkness, but she had never experienced my reaction to water. We had warned her about it so she was somewhat prepared. She and Dom had made it their mission to make sure I was comfortable all day, but I couldn’t do that to them. I couldn’t allow them to babysit me in the hot sun while everyone else enjoyed themselves in the water. Why should they have to suffer for my idiosyncrasies?
Maybe Dr. Cole was right about my fears. Maybe they were irrational.
I hated that know-it-all bitch.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Angel said suddenly, disrupting my diabolical plan to key the good doctor’s car. Or egg her office. Or just suck it up and admit that she was right all along.
“I’m not.” I was.
She held me for a few more silent minutes before the elephant in the room plopped its big, ugly ass on my avoidance.
“Blaine call you yet?”
A lump attacked my throat, taunting the sob I had been swallowing for the last six hours. “I don’t know. I don’t know where my phone is.” I knew where it was. It was with my Kindle and the rest of my things, abandoned at the lake in my haste to escape. But even if I did have it, I doubted he’d call. Who would call after witnessing a scene like that? Who the hell would want to deal with a total basket-case?
“I think you may have left it,” Angel remarked, reading my thoughts. “I’ll go call one of the girls to see if they grabbed it.” She slid off the bed and made her way to the door, turning to shoot me a sympathetic smile before disappearing down the hall. In that moment, I wanted to slap her. I was so tired of people looking at me like that.
Some time during my wallowing, I had drifted off to sleep, only to be awoken by noises outside my cracked door. Shuffling. Voices. Male.
Blaine.
I heard my bedroom door open wider but decided to feign sleep, too chickenshit to face him.
“Naw, man, she’s still asleep,” Dom whispered.
“Ok. I’ll just leave her stuff,” Blaine replied in an equally hushed tone. I heard him pad across the room and set down my things on the dresser as quietly as he could. Then his footprints grew louder as he made his way towards me. I tried not to flutter my eyelids and kept my breathing heavy and deep. Oh shit, I must look horrible. After showering, I had thrown on a pair of old cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt, not even bothering to brush out my ratty hair. Great. I was just a hot mess all around.
His scent hit me first, causing my mouth to reflexively salivate. It had grown familiar to me. Comfortable. Safe. It made me feel…home. Something I had never had before. Something I had always craved.
When he drew close enough to me that I could feel his warm breath, I thought I might break. I still wanted him. Dammit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Not this strong.
Warm, soft lips accompanied with a bit of stubble brushed across my forehead ever so lightly. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from melting into the touch. I wanted to pull him down onto the bed with me and nuzzle into his arms. I wanted him to squeeze me tight and tell me he’d never leave me, no matter what. That no matter how f*cked up I was, he wouldn’t abandon me. Then I wanted him to make sweet love to me for hours and hours until I was too exhausted to do more than smile…
No. I didn’t want that. What was I thinking?
As I was losing my internal argument, Blaine retreated from the intimacy of my bedroom, closing the door behind him.
No! I can’t…breathe…God…no
Before panic seized every muscle and joint, the door quickly clicked back open. I breathed an audible sigh of relief, clutching my chest to ease the jolt of my heart rate.
“Hey man,” Dom began on the other side of my bedroom door. “Sorry about earlier. I panicked. Emotions were high, and I jumped to conclusions. We good?”
A pregnant pause before what sounded like a hand clap. “Yeah man. We’re good.”
“Thanks for bringing her stuff back. Appreciate it.”
“No problem,” Blaine answered. “I would have come sooner, but I wanted to give her space since she said she’d call…”
“Yeah, um. I wanted to talk to you about that.”
Oh no, Dom. Don’t. Please don’t.
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how much Kam has told you about her past…”
“She hasn’t told me anything,” Blaine interjected.
“Ok. Well…I think there are things that you need to hear from her, if she wants you to know. Outside of Angel and me, plus…professionals, she hasn’t told anyone. But you…you’re different. Well, she’s different with you, I should say. I’ve never seen Kami with anyone. Like really with them wholeheartedly. Not like she is with you.”
“Sometimes I can’t tell if she really is.” I could hear the pain in Blaine’s voice. Was he hurting in all this? Did he even care enough to be hurt?
“She is, dude. She’s with you. You have… her. No one gets her—not the real Kami. But with you, she’s natural. She’s carefree. She laughs because something’s funny, not because it’s expected. She smiles because she’s happy, not because she’s trying to hide her pain. She can be herself. That’s pretty major for her.”
Silence passed, and my strained ears were aching to hear a response from Blaine.
“What happened to her?” he finally whispered.
“Not my story to tell,” Dom answered. “But I will tell you this: that girl is the strongest person I know. It may not seem like it, but if you knew the heavy burden she carries every single damn day and still manages to crack a smile, you’d understand.”
“Well…help me understand. Help me be what she needs me to be,” Blaine urged.
“I can’t. Only she can show you that part of her. But something tells me the pieces are finally coming together. You’ve seen what happens to her, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re still here.”
“Yeah.”
Another beat of silence.
“Do you love her?” Dom asked quietly.
I held my breath in expectation. Seconds ticked by. Then a minute.
No answer from Blaine.
“Well,” Dom muttered. “I just hope you realize what you’re doing.”
“I do,” Blaine answered assuredly. Footsteps started to move away from my door, taking the voices with them. “Can you have her call me when she wakes up? I really want…”
I know I should’ve been happy that he didn’t say he loved me. I all but told him not to from the beginning. So why wasn’t I relieved over his omission? Why were confused tears sprouting at the corners of my eyes, making me even more frustrated than I was before? And why the hell did he kiss me, knowing that he wouldn’t stay. He couldn’t stay. He’d be a fool to.
“Kam?” Dom whispered, popping his head into my bedroom.
I fluttered my eyes open and feigned a yawn. “Yeah?”
Dom eased himself next to me, giving me a tentative smile. “You didn’t happen to overhear a conversation I just had, did you?”
“What conversation?”
“Blaine was here.”
I worked to keep my face blank, hiding the excitement at just the mere mention of his name and the memory of his lips. My forehead still tingled. “He was?”
“Yeah. He brought your stuff, and he wanted to see if you were ok. He wants you to call him.”
I nodded.
“But you’re not going to, are you?”
I looked at Dominic, my best friend and the only man I could totally be honest with. “Nope.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Kam…”
“What’s the use? Why should I call him? Why not make a clean break? Why drag this out when we both know that it won’t work?”
“How do you know it won’t work? Have you ever tried to have a relationship?”
I lifted a brow. “No. Have you?”
Dom’s mouth twisted as he digested my words. He had never tried either. He slept with anything on two legs in an attempt to mask his insecurities and shame. After years of being raped by someone who proclaimed to love him, Dom had been confused about his sexuality. He thought being violated by a man meant he was gay, yet he didn’t find men attractive. He was undoubtedly good-looking, almost pretty. Both men and women found him exotic and enticing. His uncle even tried to use the defense that Dominic had indeed enjoyed it since he had ejaculated. Luckily, the jurors in Dom’s case saw his bullshit for what it was.
“You don’t want to be like me, Kam. Different chicks every night—hell, I couldn’t even tell you who I brought home last week. That’s not you. You’re not a slut. You deserve someone who is going to cherish and love you. You need someone to build a life with. Maybe even start a family.”
“And you think that someone is Blaine,” I said incredulously.
“I think he could be. But you won’t know that until you try, Kam.” He handed me my cell phone that he’d been clutching. “Call him. Maybe he’ll understand. Maybe he’ll be exactly what you need. You owe it to yourself to at least try and find out.”
Dom brushed away a wayward lock of hair from my forehead before leaving me alone to make my decision. I looked over at the jar of colorful origami stars in my windowsill. They were laughing at me. Taunting me. Reminding me why no one would ever be able to accept me. Not the way that I needed them to.
I powered down my cell phone that was hanging on to its last bar of battery life and set it on my nightstand. No. I couldn’t call. I had 253 reasons not to.