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“But all I knew was that you were gone.” Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she could barely breathe as she told me all about her hurt. “You were gone, and the baby—the only piece I had left of you—was gone, too. I wanted that baby, Campbell. I wanted to have that piece of you. And on the worst day of my life, you couldn’t even call me back.”
I felt sick. She’d had to go through all of that alone. All of that without me. And even when she’d reached out, I’d fucked it all up.
“Blaire, I’m sorry. I know I can’t make up for it.”
She whirled away from me. “No, you can’t.”
“I wish I could change it.”
Her shoulders shook. “I was prepared for everything with you. I was ready to talk about our past. To be the ‘I See the Real You’ girl after years of avoiding it. I was ready for people looking into my business and past relationships. I was ready for all of that. I would have been okay with it all. But…not this.”
I swallowed hard, my throat closing at her words.
“This was too far. This was…over the line. I don’t know if I want this level of fame if people can dredge up an eight-year-old miscarriage and then feel okay, bringing it up as a talking point on the red carpet. I don’t think I can have that life.”
And how could I blame her? I’d wanted to shield her from the worst of it. It was why I had never told anyone who she really was. I’d respected her privacy. And then this had all gone down, and I didn’t know how to make the spotlight any easier for her.
“Blaire…”
“I want to go home,” she said softly with a sniffle.
“Okay. We can change and head into the Hills.”
“No,” she said abruptly. “No. I want to go back to Lubbock.”
“Okay. We’ll get a flight back together.”
“I want to go…alone.” She met my eyes as she said it and swiped at her tears.
This wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted her here. I wanted us to work it out. Had I been living in a dream the last couple weeks? Had everyone been right when they warned me about our relationship? Was it too much to hope that we could make this work when my life was in LA and it was this hellscape for her?
“We can fix this…”
“Please,” she said. Her shoulders slumped forward in on herself. “I just want to go home. I can’t do this.”
“This?”
Her eyes finally met mine. “Us.”
My body went hollow. “Us.”
I was an echo, but there was nothing else for me to say. My life was not all glitz and glamour. And she’d seen the dark side of it. Could I blame her for wanting to bail? Because I didn’t.
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded.
“Don’t, Campbell. Please. It’s too much. You don’t know what it was like.”
“I don’t want to let you go,” I said, reaching out for her.
She took a step backward and shook her head. “I need time. Just…just give me some time.”
And her face was so crushing that I couldn’t do anything else. If she needed time, how could I deny it to her? She deserved it after everything I’d done in the past to fuck us up. I was the asshole here. Even if I’d do anything to fix it.
“Okay,” I said hollowly. “If that’s what you want.”
Part VI
The One That Got Away
37
Blaire
The door burst open after my pronouncement. English read the room and ushered me out. She spoke with Campbell for a few minutes. I didn’t even bother listening in. I was sure that she was going to keep him updated on me. When I reminded her that she was my publicist, she nodded and told me that Campbell was her friend.
Which was all I needed to know. I was her priority, but she wanted us to work. I could see it in her sad blue eyes.
She made a sharp and swift apology for what had happened at the event. But we both knew that we couldn’t change it. And it was probably better to get me out of the public spotlight until everything died down.
English retrieved my luggage from Campbell’s house, and I was on the first flight home. She promised to handle it. I believed her. Because I certainly wasn’t fucking handling anything.
When I landed in Lubbock, a barrage of text messages awaited me. One was from Piper, letting me know she was waiting in the cell phone lot. The rest were from Honey. I scrolled through them all, hoping that I’d have something from Campbell. But no, nothing. I’d told him not to contact me, and he hadn’t.
But the messages from Honey were never-ending. I finally gave up and called her, thankful for the privacy in first class.
