“I’d never leave you, Kitten. Never, and it pisses me the fuck off that you’d think for a moment that I would.”
“Well, that’s how I feel about you thinking you’re not enough. Why would you ever think that? You’re more man than most women could ever handle.”
Cameron King is the most confident—almost to the point of being arrogant—man I’ve ever met, and I absolutely hate that I’ve made him doubt himself.
He tilts his hips up and makes small circular movements, grinding his dick into my arse.
“I’m not talking about the size of my dick and the ability I have to fuck you into multiple orgasms with it.”
There he is. That right there is my Cam. My TDH.
“Then what, Tiger?”
“I can’t write you love songs or send you love letters telling you the way I feel.”
So, that’s what this is all about? I might just set a torch to those bloody letters and never read another word.
“But he didn’t have a nine-and-a-half-inch dick.” My attempt at humour fails miserably.
His face remains blank as he blinks his eyes whilst staring at me for a few seconds.
“What the fuck has that got to do with anything? My dicks bigger than most blokes.”
“And most blokes can’t write songs or a love letter like Sean McCarthy.”
“I’m well aware of that; I’m one of them.”
“But I don’t need you to, Cam. That was his thing. That’s what I had with him, and it’s irrelevant to you and me. That’s not what I have with you.”
“No, all you get with me is a big dick and multiple orgasms.”
“And four beautiful children and the confidence to know that I’m loved, worshiped, and adored every single day of my life.”
“I didn’t give you that yesterday. Yesterday you thought I was leaving you.”
I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling in frustration. I can just make out the mural of a unicorn standing on a cloud and farting a stardust-sprinkled rainbow out of its arse that’s on my ceiling.
I had it painted to remind me that life isn’t always perfect. My life most certainly hasn’t been and wasn’t now but it was perfect for me, for us.
Sometimes in life, bad things happen just because. It’s not “meant to be” and it’s not “God’s will”. It just is. My life isn’t about fluffy clouds, stardust, and rainbow-farting unicorns. It’s about everything that’s on the walls beneath the hand-painted sky above our heads. It’s family photos of kisses, cuddles, and laughing smiling faces, pure happiness and joy. It’s hand prints filled with our family rules and inspirational quotes, the pencil-marked walls showing the kids’ heights since the day they could stand. It’s love, warmth, temper tantrums, loud music, and chaos. Barking, bum-sniffing dogs, muddy football boots, and shit-covered riding boots left in the hallway. It’s Harry, George, Lula, and Kiks. It’s Cam and his rules and lack of technological know-how. It’s me and my terrible cooking. It’s everything that I thought I’d never have and everything he gave to me.
Him. Cameron King.
“That’s because of my own stupid insecurities, not because of anything you did.”
“If I were doing my job properly, you wouldn’t have any insecurities.”
I raise my eyebrows and look at him, giving him my best “You’ve got to be shitting me” look.
He rolls his eyes, knowing full well I have him. We both know nothing will put a stop to my insecurities. I’m a woman, they come with the job description. I give him my best smile, telling him, “You look like Lula when you do that.”
“Lu’s my daughter, it’s her that looks like me.”
“Whatever.”
“Now you sound like Harry. Anyway, Lu’s all you. I swear she’s a combination of you and Ash. I don’t think there’s anything of me in there.”
He looks into my eyes without saying a word for a few long moments.
“Our babies,” he says very quietly.
I nod my head, unable to speak around the big knotty ball of emotion that’s lodged in my throat.
“We’re so fucking lucky. I’ve got daughters, George. You gave me girls.” He says it like he’s realising this for the very first time.
“Never in my life did I imagine myself with girls. Boys, yeah, I always expected boys, but never girls.” I can’t help but laugh at the astonishment in his voice.
“For a while, I never thought I’d have either,” I confess. He holds my face in his big right hand and brushes the tears from my cheeks with his thumb.
“And here we are with four,” he whispers.
“And all because of you.”
He shakes his head, leans in, and kisses me oh so gently on the mouth.
“Because of us.”
“And that’s what you’ve given me. That’s why you’ll always be enough. When you’re not busy being too much that is. You gave me back my life, and then you gave me a life. One that I could never have imagined, hoped, or dreamed of ever living.”