“So, D’Lilah, tell me about living in Milan when you were a teenager. That must’ve been pretty cool.”
Her eyes flash to Cameron’s and something she sees in his expression makes her relax a little. Slowly and between sips of wine, she opens up about her glamorous life as a model. She pours herself another glass, and I’m afraid if she doesn’t eat we’re going to be carrying her out of here.
The food arrives right on time, and I struggle to push food down past my anxiety.
Cameron must catch on to me pushing my food around my plate because I look up to find him glaring down at me. “Eat.”
I sigh and turn to my food, making sure to shovel in every last bite. After a couple bites, Ryder launches into a story about his night playing roadie for Ataxia. Everyone laughs and responds in the right places, and soon my appetite returns. The waitress asks if we want a dessert menu, but Ryder declines, his eyes still glued to the time.
“No way, you have to make a wish,” I insist. “It’s your birthday.”
“It’s fine, really.” His gaze swings between the time on his phone and the exit. “I’m a little old for restaurant sing-a-longs.”
“What? You’re never too old for those, dude.” I pull over the small candle from the middle of the table. “Here. This’ll do.”
I start to sing happy birthday, and after the first few words, D’lilah joins in. I notice Cameron passes on joining the celebration, but that doesn’t surprise me, especially given the mood he’s in.
I watch as Ryder fills his cheeks with air and blows hard to turn the flickering orange flame into a slithering column of smoke.
“There. Now can I go?” He smiles.
“What did you wish for?”
“Yeah, right. I can’t tell you that or it won’t come true.”
I laugh and turn to the rest of the table, almost falling out of the booth at what I see. D’lilah’s face is wet with tears, and Cameron’s eyes are soft on her. Soft.
“’Li.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t do this.”
“Mom.” There’s no sympathy in Ryder’s expression, just irritation.
“It’s okay.”
What’s okay? What in the hell is going on with this family?
“I can’t.” She leans over and places a kiss to her son’s cheek. “Happy birthday, baby. I have to go.” She slides out of the booth and hurries to the exit.
“Fuck.” Cameron moves to chase after her, but jerks back into his seat like he just remembered I’m there.
“It’s okay.” I place my hand on his forearm. “Go see if she’s okay.”
He looks conflicted, his gaze swinging back and forth between where I’m sitting and where she disappeared.
“Right, well, I’m outta here.” Ryder scoots out of the booth. “Thanks for dinner, Dad.”
“Ry, go check on—”
“Not tonight, Dad. If there’s ever a day where I don’t have to live in someone else’s shadow, I pick today.” He turns and follows the direction his mom left.
Shadow?
“Cameron, what the hell just happened?”
He buries his face in his hands. “Not now, Eve.”
Eve? Not doll or babe? Shit.
My heart cramps violently and familiarly. I’m losing him. My body’s alarm system screams for me to run, as if distance will protect me from the looming heartbreak.
Something happened between this morning and tonight that robbed me of the Cameron I know and replaced him with a man I feared he would become. He’s thrown up a glass wall between us, and I don’t know how to bust through.
I take a deep breath. “It’s okay. Go after her.”
He looks at me, eyes held in a tight glare and yet totally expressionless. “I’m not leaving you.” His voice doesn’t carry the conviction of his words.
“I’ll grab a cab.” I feel my grip on him slide away as my heart succumbs to its fears.
“Eve.” There’s no fight in the way he says my name. No desperation or even the bossy control I’ve heard in the past.
“Really.” I tilt my head to the front of the restaurant. “She shouldn’t be driving.” Don’t leave me.
“Shit.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t even think about that.” His eyes find mine. “You sure?”
I nod. Take me with you.
He pulls out his money clip and drops a wad of hundred dollar bills on the table. “This should be enough for dinner and a cab.” He leans over and kisses my forehead.
Not my lips. I almost hear an audible crack of my heart.
“I’ll call you later.”
And then I watch him walk away.
*
Cameron
Fuck. I should’ve known this would be a disaster: Eve and D’lilah at the same dinner table the night of our twins’ eighteenth birthday. Mourning all that we’ve lost while celebrating our son’s launch into adulthood is a mixed box of shit that I don’t even want to attempt to sort out.