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This time I was pissed for a good reason, and I held onto it tightly. It was a buffer against the stabbing pain of knowing that Emma was out there somewhere, but I had no idea where. It insulated against the fear that was pounding just outside of my skull. The fear that, if I let it in, would swamp me and flood out my ability to do the one thing that would defeat it – find Emma.
And make Cami regret thinking she could walk away again so easily.
* * *
Toward the end of the flight, we started packing up our computers and gear. After nearly ten hours, we all needed a break. The dead ends were starting to hit back, and exhaustion showed on every one of my friends’ faces.
Though it wasn’t even noon yet in LA, Garrett sifted through the bottles in the bar until he found the best whiskey the plane had to offer. He poured us each a finger, and we all drank. Even Julian, who hated whiskey, put it back. No one tried to toast or say a single placating word. We were all frustrated and baffled by our inability to find a single clue.
“It’s like they’re just fuckinggone,” Garrett lamented. “Where is Big Brother when you need him?”
Dominic, Julian, and Garrett lived on the same side of town, so they shared a car. Con lived closest to me. He tried to invite himself over, but I wanted to be alone.
“You sure?” he asked. “I know a little about what it’s like.”
I knew he did. He and Lily had had their share of speed bumps along the way to matrimony. She was younger than him. His oldest daughter’s best friend. It hadn’t been pretty, but it hadn’t been anything like this either. There hadn’t been lawsuits and stalkers and a three-year-old daughter who was just starting to call him 'Daddy’ involved.
“I’m sure,” I said shortly.
Con didn’t take offense. That was the good thing about having friends who exhibited their own share of asshole behavior. They didn’t hold it against you. They didn’t think it meant you didn’t fucking care about them. It didn’t make them assume things, like that you’d be grateful if they left. I knew if I got back to my place and couldn’t take the silence, Con would still come over. He might say that he told me so, but he’d be there.
He probably even knew why I wanted to go home alone. That as wildly improbable as it was, I hoped Cami would be there. I had this picture in my head of walking through the front door and finding her and Emma in the kitchen, or maybe out on the terrace. She’d have an explanation. I didn’t care what it was. I made sure that the ring I bought her was in my pocket because in my mind, after she told me what the hell had happened, I’d propose. For real this time, not in that half assed way that had made her think I was doing it out of a sense of obligation. The rest of it was a blur. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, whether we’d be able to move into the house yet or how long it would take to neutralize the stalker. I just knew we’d be together, and everything would feel right again.
It was so clear in my mind that when I walked into my apartment, I turned automatically toward the kitchen, my heart lifting at the thought of seeing them again. And when I saw it – and everywhere else I looked – was empty, my heart sank. Darkness swarmed over me, thick as tar. It sucked at me, making me feel like there was a boulder pressing down on my shoulders.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was entirely my fault. Despite my best intentions, I’d fucked it up again. I’d overcorrected, but I hadn’t taken the time to make her understand that I was serious. That I wanted this. That I wanted her and Emma and the whole package. I wanted to give her everything, but I hadn’t even been able to give her a sense of security. She still doubted my love for her. There was still someone out there who wanted to hurt the Lavigne family.
I lifted my head, some of the weight sloughing off my shoulders. I couldn’t do anything about Cami’s perception of my feelings for her, but I could renew my hunt for whoever was sending those messages. I knew in my gut that they were part of the reason she was gone. If she hadn’t been afraid, she might have stayed. We might have had the chance to fight it out. I would have had time to make her see the truth.
I stood up, my resolve strengthening. It didn’t matter what it took. I was going to find this asshole, and I was going to do whatever it took to make Cami and Emma feel safe again.
28
CAMI
It had been a full week since Emma and I arrived in Morocco, and I was as miserable and heartbroken as the first day I got there. I put on a good face for Emma, but inside, I was crumbling. Mom and Robert saw right through my good face and did everything they could think of to distract me. We took day trips to Casablanca and Marrakesh and other towns, but no amount of souks or palaces could ease the pain in my chest.
“I thought you’d loveEl Badi,” my mother said, disappointed. Her eyebrows were slanted together in vexation. She was getting tired of my inability to cheer up already.
“I did love it,” I said quietly, shouldering Emma. She was too heavy for me to carry, but after a long day of sightseeing, that’s what was happening. I buried my face in her shoulder for a minute, trying to figure out how to explain to my mother that I loved all the places we were going, and that was the problem. I loved them so much that I wanted to show them all to Landon. I wanted to marvel at the palaces together. I wanted to hear him gripe about how hard it would be to secure the riads and grumble about the heat. I wanted to walk hand in hand through the Blue Village of Chefchaouen and hike the Gorges of Dades together.
“Then why do you look so…” Mom tilted her head, trying to find the right adjective. “--sad?”
I almost laughed. “Because I’msad, Mom. I’m really, really sad.”
“Leave her alone, Elyna,” Robert murmured, touching her arm.
She ignored him. “But I don’t understand why, Cami. We’re here in this beautiful place, away from the noise in Los Angeles. Emma can go outside and play like a normal child. We have money again.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that she was summing it all up as noise, but somehow, I was. The accusations, the lawsuits, the judgments, the threats, the scores of people claiming that the Lavigne brand had ruined their lives. It was all just noise to her. An inconvenience, like my heartbreak. With a start, I realized my mother didn’t care about any of it. Not my pain, and certainly not theirs. We had money again, and that was enough for her. She couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t enough for me.
My heart broke a little more, but this time in a different place. I shifted Emma’s weight again and opened my mouth, a sharp reply on the edge of my tongue. Robert, seeing it coming, slid his arm around my mother’s shoulders protectively. “I think we’re all just tired,” he said before I could figure out exactly what I wanted to say.
“I’mnot tired,” my mother said, shrugging him off. “You all go home. I’m going to the souk.” She turned on one heeled sandal and walked off.
“The car will take you two back,” Robert said to me before walking after her.
I walked back to where the chauffeured black car was waiting. Emma stayed asleep, even after I buckled her into the carseat. I kissed her forehead, sticky with sweat, and peeled strands of her dark hair off it. Her eyelids fluttered open, and I saw the light green of her pupils in the crease before they closed again. Landon’s eyes.
