Page 24 of End Game

“Thank you,” she replies softly.

She blows her nose with a sound that should probably require a permit and immediately starts laughing again.

“Sorry.” Offering a soft smile, she looks at each of us.

Finally, she takes the orange juice from Micah and sips at it.

Micah checks her sugar, then leaves his phone unlocked on the counter with the graph up.

No announcement. No discussion.

Just here, we’re all watching her now.

When Cami offers a soft, almost apologetic look to Ronan, he cups the nape of her neck and pulls her closer before kissing her temple.

Micah and I both manage—barely—not to react.

Ronan.

Voluntarily touching someone.

Affectionately.

In front of witnesses.

It’s like seeing Bigfoot use Apple Pay.

You know, intellectually, that anything is possible, but you’re still not prepared when it happens in front of you.

“A faker can’t fool another faker,” I tease her before I brush my knuckles to her chin.

Her smile fades. She stares down into her orange juice. “I wasn’t really faking. It was more that I was ignoring.”

“Ignoring won’t make it go away,” Micah says gently.

“I know,” she admits.

We’re all quiet for a few moments, and then Ronan asks, “Do you need real food, sweetheart?”

“I probably should,” she confesses with another small smile.

“We still have some of that primavera,” Micah suggests.

She agrees, and Micah gets to work on that.

We talk quietly for a few minutes. Cami gives me the abbreviated version of what happened. I already know most of it, but hearing her say it is worse.

My jaw starts hurting somewhere around the part where Ben grabbed her.

Micah catches my eye once.

The look he gives me says don’t.

I don’t know if he means don’t interrupt, don't make this about me being upset, or don’t announce the creative ways I’d like to rearrange Ben’s face.

Probably all three.

Maybe it was the smell of food. Maybe Griffin has some kind of husband bat signal whenever Cami cries. But Griffin finds his way to the kitchen.