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“It’s two in the afternoon on a Sunday, and you’re still in bed.” Spencer’s disapproving tone breaks me away from my internal thoughts. I didn’t hear her enter my apartment.
With a groan, I roll my eyes, aware that she can’t see me through the darkness of my bedroom. Except the darkness doesn’t last much longer because she yanks open the black-out curtains, revealing the warm afternoon sun shining bright in the sky.
I hiss and close my eyes when the rays hit my skin. “I’ve never seen you like this before. This is unacceptable, and very un-Camille-like.” The mattress shifts when she climbs beside me, scooting toward where I lie in the middle. “Talk to me, little sis. What happened?” I haven’t told her about my breakup—if you could even call it that.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Just tired. Close the blinds and leave.”
“Not happening. You’re not fine, so start talking. Is it about Dean?” With an annoyed groan, I kick the blankets away from my body and sit up, leaning back against my headboard.
“Why are you here, Spencer?”
“Because, Camille, Declan called me and said he was worried about you, so I came to check on you.”
“Declan? Why would he be worried about me?” My face scrunches in confusion.
“You don’t remember calling him? He said you left him several voicemails crying and flooded his phone with incoherent texts. He said his phone was off at the time, so he missed them, but once he got them, he called me when you wouldn't answer.”
My shoulders sag in defeat. I’d been too drunk that I don’t even remember drunk calling my soon-to-be ex-husband. Not sure what I even said on his voicemail. I probably don’t want to know.
I pat across the bed in search of my phone, only to find it on my bedside table. With a groan, I pick up the device and tap the screen, instantly seeing the drained red battery icon. Reaching over, I grab the white charging cord and plug it into my phone, setting it back on my nightstand.
“Start talking. What’s going on with you?”
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes that are already filling with tears. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately. My head is a little fucked up right now.”
“Tell me, sis. Please. Fucked up about what?”
“Luca. Declan. Dean. Karina.” I sigh, scrubbing my hands over my face and raking my fingers through the bird’s nest of hair on my head. “I feel like a piece of shit for sleeping with another woman’s husband. I met a lonely woman in a fucking support group for grieving parents who were suffering and just wanted a friend. What did I do instead of keeping my legs closed and being a friend? I fucked her husband the first chance I got. While she struggled to get pregnant and turned a blind eye to her husband’s infidelity, I was giving him a blowjob at work.” A humorless laugh falls from my dry lips.
“Let’s not forget that I, too, have a husband. A husband who was fresh out of rehab and wanted to make our marriage work. A husband who loved me and wanted us to find a new normal and learn to exist together, as just the two of us. My husband was at home fighting his demons and trying to stay sober while I was sneaking around with some boy from my childhood, acting like we were both single and not hurting anyone.” Spencer remains silent, letting me vent and get all my thoughts out. “What kind of woman does that? I should’ve been home with my husband grieving with him. Did you know that we never mourned the loss of Luca together? He turned to drugs, and I turned to controlling every aspect of our life and switched off my emotions. When it started to get too much, I took medication to fucking numb my emotions to get through the day. Dr. Reynolds thought it was helping me in the way it’s supposed to, but she doesn’t know I was taking it multiple times a day instead of just once like I was prescribed, and it was making me numb to everything.” Her hands find mine, and she intertwines our fingers and holds my hands tightly, her thumbs rubbing along my flesh soothingly.
“I didn’t tell any of you I was taking medication either.” No one knew because I didn’t want to be seen as weak. I didn’t want to tell anyone that it felt like a fucking hole had been punched through my chest. A hole that only Luca could fill. No one knew that night after night I’d crawl into the fetal position and cry myself to sleep, praying that God would give my son back and take me instead. "Apparently, according to Dr. Reynolds, I have bipolar depression, but the meds don't fucking work, so I stopped taking them."
By this point, tears are streaming down my face. I only notice when I taste the saltiness on my lips. “When I went to New York, Declan and I got to mourn our loss together. For the first time, over a year later. It was what we needed, and finally, fucking finally, I was starting to feel better.” That moment with Dec will forever mean everything to me. "Then, a couple of weeks ago with Dean, I had a cold wakeup call. Karina called him, he went running to her and left me naked and alone. That was the moment I realized what a true piece of shit I am.” My shoulders shake with my ugly sobs. I half expect Spencer to tell me to fuck off for carrying on with Dean as long as I did, but she surprises me by pulling me close, wrapping her arms around me, and hugging me tightly against her.
“You made a mistake, and it’s okay. We all make mistakes. It’s over now, and it’s what matters right now. You realized your mistake, and you’re not going to make the same one again. It’s time to let him go once and for all. Let go and leave Dean in the past where he belongs. Nothing good can come from it.” I sob into her T-shirt, nodding my head, knowing damn good and well she’s right.
“She’s pregnant, Spence. She’s having his baby. Dean knew she was pregnant while he was fucking me.” She squeezes me tightly against her, knowing what I secretly went through years ago. She knows my biggest secret, a secret I made her promise that we’ll take to our graves and never tell a single soul. A secret only she and I know about.
I know about Dean and Karina’s history of going through miscarriages and a stillbirth, but that was all in the past. That didn’t affect me. She’s pregnant now, meaning they were sleeping together during the same time that Dean and I were sleeping together. He got her pregnant even after we reconnected and started our relationship. He told me so many times that they were no longer having sex. He lied.
Of course, he did. He was already lying to his wife. Why wouldn’t he lie to me, too? I’ve been such a fool.
Shifting my body, I lay my head down on my sister's lap and let her stroke my hair while I bawl my eyes out, losing myself in memories of the past.
THIRTY-NINE
THEN
Camille,15 years old
Dean left for his stupid fancy university in England two months ago.
Spencer left, too, leaving me all alone.
Both of my best friends are gone.
I have no one.
