Page 36 of I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life

Chapter twenty-seven

Nalini

“I’m allowed to be upset over this, right?” I asked Peri. Technically, I was at the library volunteering, but I’d gotten absolutely no work done as I sat in the chair and ranted. “Why wouldn't he have mentioned it sooner? Why'd he do all those interviews to specifically say the band wasn’t getting back together, when they’re actually debating it?”

“It sounds to me like he’s trying to do things differently this time,” Peri said, never taking her eyes off the books she was scanning and placing on the return cart.

“Wait? You’re taking his side?” I asked, my jaw dropping. While most of the town had thawed to the idea of Kam moving back, Peri had stayed steadfast in her hatred. Or at least, I thought she had.

“If you wanted someone who’d only agree with you, you’d have gone to Misty,” Peri pointed out, and begrudgingly I knew she was right. “You know I’m going to tell it like it is. Actually, talking to you, especially this early in the process, it sounds like he’s trying to keep you in the loop instead of blindsiding you. And he’d know you’d be mad about it and did it anyway. Sounds like growth on Kameron’s part.”

I hated that Peri was right. And that Misty was currently teaching a class, so I couldn’t go to her to validate everything I’d wanted to hear. But most disgustingly, Peri really did have a point: Kam could’ve avoided telling me they were thinking of bringing RaineFall back. He could’ve kept it a secret until the last minute. Instead, he let me know, even though he had to realize how much I’d hate it.

I’d hoped the Raine brothers moved on. It was obvious they didn’t need RaineFall anymore; each had their own projects. And even if they brought it back, my anxiety and animosity toward the band felt stupid. The chances of my life becoming a media circus again were low — I was old news, and I doubted anyone cared enough to catch up on what my life was like.

But… I also was living with Kam and Cassidy, and my gut told me it was something the media would latch onto. I’d already figured if we were together, the world would eventually find out about it and turn it into a thing. But if we were together and RaineFall came back? That seemed like the perfect situation to ignite a media wildfire.

I didn’t think I was capable of handling that kind of scrutiny. Not when I’d barely survived it the first time. I’d realized I didn’t want our kiss to be the last one, but… I needed to decide if I could handle that level of press now. It felt almost stupid, preparing for that kind of catastrophic what-if. Maybe my anxiety had taken things to a new level, and I was preparing for something that wouldn’t happen. But RaineFall had a way of making the media and their fans go crazy, and it was better to know my answer now and be prepared than it was to be flung into it again.

Which meant I’d have to talk to Kameron about RaineFall. About my fears, about everything that happened because of it. It was necessary, it was healthy, and I absolutely hated it. It required a vulnerability I rarely gave anyone, because I could tell him about the damage that was in the past, but it was completely different to share my fears about it happening again. I didn’t want to be the reason he didn’t follow his dreams. I also didn’t want to sacrifice myself so he could achieve them.

I wasn’t going to let RaineFall take away my life a second time.

I stared at the bundle of paper I’d put on the desk next to me, the one Peri thankfully hadn’t asked about. It was a trick of fate that my terrible, partly written manuscript hadn’t gone up in flames with the rest of my apartment, a lucky break that I’d thought to put it in my car to work on during the YWG. I wanted to finish it, but with everything that’d happened, it didn’t seem like there was a point.

I’d been so convinced during the fire I was a phoenix, burning away everything holding me back. But now, reality reminded me that even though I’d lost everything, there was more holding me back than possessions. If I were going to continue writing, I’d have to put myself out there; I’d have to let the public in. I’d have to accept people would put together I was the subject of the song, and wait for the comparisons. Even if I used a pen name, there’d still be people who put things together based on my pictures. I’d need thick skin, not just from the RaineFall fans, but from readers in general. It wasn’t just a potential relationship with Kam that was giving me these worries; it was that my dreams would put me in the public eye, whether I wanted it or not.

My world had fallen apart twice now, and if I truly let go of the safety net I’d clung to for years, what was to keep it from happening over and over? I felt the prick of tears forming in the back of my eyes, and before Peri could say anything else, I took the return cart, figuring reshelving books was a good way to be alone.

I was in the middle of the nonfiction stacks when the tears started falling, and I sank to the ground. I’d thought I was good at processing my life, but it seemed like the idea of RaineFall destroyed my perfectly good — or probably terrible — compartmentalization abilities and forced me to feel everything at once. I’d felt so bored, so ready to go back to work on Monday, and now I wasn’t sure I wanted to ever set foot back in the school.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat in the aisle sobbing, but the library was typically empty during the day. That was until I heard someone approach and sit next to me. I wasn’t sure if one of the Crochet Club ladies told Peri I was crying, only to be surprised at Kam offering me a box of tissues.

It was embarrassing for him to see me like this: for all my broken pieces to be on display, laid out on the ground without the metaphorical tape I’d convinced myself held me together.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he quietly assured me, “You’ve had a hard week, and I’m just going to be here for you, however you need.” I sniffled, blowing my nose hard into one of the tissues, willing my tears to stop.

They didn’t.

“Why are you here?” I whispered, wiping my eyes, “You didn’t have to come.”

“Peri called,” Kam sheepishly answered. “I figured if she was willingly reaching out, things were bad.” It was a perfect answer, and I decided to put a pin in being mad at Peri for later. Because despite everything, I was glad he was there.

“Well, my life’s a mess,” I said, slowly resting my head against his shoulder. I tried to ignore the tingles of energy that ignited at his touch. “I mean, it’s been a mess for years. And I started to think things might be okay, and now everything’s wrong, and I don’t see the point in trying. Why would I? Life’s decided if I start to go for something I want, I deserve to be punished for it.”

“You deserve to live the life you want,” Kam quietly said. “You don’t need to keep punishing yourself because things got hard. So…what do you want, Nalini?”

“I want to write a book and get it published,” I sniffled, “I want to come to the library and see it on the shelf. I want to make enough from writing so I can leave teaching and not be exhausted all the time. And I want y…” I trailed off before I could finish saying you. It didn’t feel right to add that yet, not when we were living in a weird holding pattern. Not with everything else going on.

“You’ve… never published a book? At all?” Kam asked, and I was surprised by how shocked he sounded, even though it was another long overdue conversation we’d needed. He’d been asking about my books from the moment he showed back up. He’d wanted to know my mysterious pen name, and clearly he’d assumed I’d at least tried to follow my dreams. I hadn’t meant for it to be a secret, but the way he’d immediately believed in me… I hadn’t wanted to disappoint him. I hadn’t wanted him to see how sad my life was, and it felt like if I’d admitted it, especially when I was so mad at him, I would've looked pathetic.

“I hadn’t written a word since you left,” I quietly admitted, “Not for lack of trying. It was just me and a blank page. Nothing worked to break the writer’s block. So I gave up… like twelve years ago? I didn’t even think about starting again until you came back. It’s like I can’t write without you here, like you’re my muse and best friend rolled into one.”

Somehow, this was worse than telling him I wanted him. It was telling him I loved him without any of the words. Teenage Nalini thought she was in love with him, but this adult version? I didn’t know if it was love, but it was something. And that was more than I should be saying while things were this messy.

Not to mention, how was I even supposed to write a book when I was worried about how I was going to live? Or how was I supposed to write when the chances of Kameron leaving again were high? If he wanted RaineFall back, I doubted he'd stay in Briar Hill. And I didn’t want to start over somewhere new.

I hadn’t realized he’d wrapped his arms around me until I realized how comfortable I was in their warmth. I felt him kiss the top of my head, and I hated the way I loved it. I hated the way I needed it. Like all of his comfort was oxygen I’d been deprived of for too long.