Page 63 of Made to Be

The jingle of the door drew our gazes, and as the new customers entered the diner and found their seats close to the entrance, Cam continued, voice still pitched low.

“I owed... a lot of money to some loan sharks. The people who I thought were my friends, they told them where to find me. They thought I was running away from my debts and leaving them to take the fall. I wasn’t. I’d intended to pay everything back the right way. But I was too late.” He swallowed, throat bobbing convulsively. “A group of them came to my family’s home one night while we were all having dinner.” His voice grew tight, so he took a deep breath, “They had guns. Said if I didn’t give them what I owed, they’d show me what happens when debts go unpaid.”

His blue eyes grew glassy and, not sure if it was okay or not, I reached out and grasped Cam’s hand over the table. It was the right thing because his fingers quickly clung to mine as if desperate for something to hold onto, anything to ground him.

“A neighbor ended up calling the police. They heard the... the gunshots and the screams. The guys were caught and are likely rotting away in prison somewhere. But... that couldn’t bring my family back. My parents, my sister Ellen and Tom, their two kids... But somehow, I survived. This scar,” Cam tapped his right shoulder where I knew sat the mysterious, long-healed wound, “is all I was left with of that night.”

“Oh, Cam...” My chest was aching, eyes beginning to burn with emotion.

“I hated myself after, couldn’t stop wishing that they’d just killed me so I didn’t have to live with the guilt. I was the reason they were dead, and I still have trouble accepting it. I was riding to visit my family’s graves the day I died,” he continued. “That day was the one-year anniversary of their deaths. I don’t remember much of the accident itself. Just that one moment I was riding my bike and it started to rain out of nowhere. Then bright, bright headlights. Then nothing.”

His thumb stroked the back of my hand absently as if he was trying to soothe me, as if he hadn’t just told me his terribly tragic backstory. I had wondered if he recalled his death and what happened to him, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that he wasremembering his past life after being resurrected. With that kind of pain and trauma, I didn’t think I wouldwantto remember.

Then the thought struck me, “Wait... You were driving here. Your family used to live here? In Briarwood?”

Seemingly thankful that I was steering the conversation away from that awful night, he offered me a small smile.

“Yeah. We used to come here a lot. My parents were good friends with the owners, Dolly and Delia.”

Just then, an aged woman’s voice spoke up, interrupting us.

“I knew I spotted a familiar face.”

Cam and I looked up simultaneously to see a tiny, hunched form with short, curly gray hair approaching our booth. Her kind face wore deep lines, but her eyes shone with youthful joy. She was wiping her hands on a floral apron tied around her thin waist and floor length skirt.

“Camden my boy, how in the world are ya?” she asked, arms spreading wide for an obvious hug.

Cam’s face broke into a bright smile, his previous melancholy forgotten.

“Dolly,” he stood from the booth and hugged the woman back.

Being practically half his size, Cam had to stoop over fully to hug her, his large arms swallowing herwhole. He squeezed her, lifting her into a hug as she wheezed out a groan.

“My boy, you’ve gotten so big!” she cheered as he gingerly placed her back onto her feet. Reaching a frail hand up, she cupped the side of his cheek and gave it several familiar pats, beaming up at him, “So tall and handsome too! Oh my, it is so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Miss Dolly.” Cam then snickered, “And I think you’ve just gotten shorter.”

She smacked him playfully in the stomach. “Aging is a bitch. Don’t get old.”

Cam’s smile fell a little when she said this. Only minutely, but I still noticed. Who knew if Cam would get to grow old after being resurrected? It wasn’t like there were many first-hand accounts out there.

Not like I could ask around, either. Cam might be the only one out there, and it was imperative we remained the only ones who knew. I could already see the article if Cam was ever discovered: “Mad witch captured by BPD after using dark arcane arts to nab himself a boyfriend.”followed by, “Resurrected man finds love again after his lover goes to rot in prison.”

“And who’s this?” the woman asked, her kind eyes landing on me.

I shook the distracting thoughts away and quickly scooted out of my seat to stand. Awkwardly, as if I was meeting his parents, I stuck my hand out and offered it to her. The movement was a tad tooaggressive, and she chuckled but gripped my hand between her small, delicate ones.

“This is Victor,” Cam introduced me. He placed one broad, warm hand at the small of my back and added, “My boyfriend.”

The mechanical up and down of my arm stopped as my mouth popped open, and I looked up to Cam in stunned silence. The smile he gave me was soft as a sunrise.

It was only then that I realized I’d completely forgotten my resolve to ask Cam to officially be my boyfriend yesterday. What with getting lost in the corn maze and our hasty retreat home. Followed by wine, and pumpkins, and dildos. Cam stripping me naked. His fingers stretching me wide. His mouth on my cock and...

No, go away horny thoughts! Bad timing!

Dolly squeezed my hand tight enough that my bones cracked, successfully turning all thoughts chaste. Like, how was this tiny woman so strong?

“Oh, how wonderful! It’s about time you found a keeper, Camden. I tell you, wait! Deli will be pleased as plums you’re here.” She then turned, still holding onto my hand, and chimed, “Deli! Deli, get out here!” before turning back to us. “You know, Victor dear, this one here hardly ever dated. And after not hearing from him for so long, I was beginning to wonder if he was going to live on as an old spinster, but here he is with you.”