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My face scrunches in confusion. She must see that we’re not on the same page because she’s quick to explain herself. “You should’ve been the one to tell me your wife is pregnant!” she snarls in disgust.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Wait, Camille said that she told her… meaning Karina.
Karina told her that she’s pregnant.
My mind races, trying to figure out when the fuck Karina would’ve even seen her and been able to tell her the news that I should’ve told her myself. The news I should’ve told her the night at the lighthouse before I let her spread her glorious thighs over my face.
“Do you know how fucking stupid I felt? She came to my office and showed me the fucking ultrasound, raving about how she’s pregnant, and you two are stronger than ever. This was after you left me naked and alone and ignored me for two weeks.” She scoffs, shaking her head, looking me up and down in pure disgust. “How long have you known?”
“Since you went to New York,” I answer honestly, looking her right in the eye.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her bright eyes darken with sadness and anger, her eyes becoming glossy, her bottom lip trembling.
“I didn’t know what to do.” Once again, I give her an honest answer despite how weak it sounds.
“You didn’t know what to do?” She surprises me by laughing in my face. “You tell your mistress it’s over, that you got your wife pregnant, then you go home and stick beside your pregnant wife. That’s what the fuck you do.” She laughs maniacally. “What happened when she called you that night? You ran out of there like you were on fire.” She giggles, covering her mouth with her hands, her shoulders shaking with her laughter.
I don’t understand what she finds so funny, but I keep my mouth shut, feeling as if she’s on the verge of snapping at any moment. Plus, I don’t want to say anything that’ll upset her and cause her to leave. This is my first time speaking to her in two months, and I will enjoy it for as long as I can, regardless of whether I like our conversation topic.
“She called me from the hospital. Said she was bleeding and thought she had another miscarriage, so I left to go to her.” My jaw clenches as I relive that fearful moment.
My answer causes her to stop laughing. She squares her shoulders, her eyebrows raising in question as if she’s waiting for me to say something else. “She didn’t lose the baby. She’s still pregnant.”
“She’s having your baby.” It’s not a question but a statement. She nods in understanding, shoving her hands into the pockets of the hoodie she’s wearing.
“I was so fucking scared, Camille. You know her pregnancy history, so I ran to be with her at the hospital. I’m so fucking sorry that I left you the way that I did, but I had to make sure my baby was okay. You don’t know what went through my head when I heard her scared voice on the phone and even during the drive to the hospital.” I shake my head, climb onto the table, and sit beside her, turning my body, so I’m facing her. To my surprise, she does the same so we can be face-to-face.
She doesn’t speak, so I continue, “I felt like it was my fault. Like if I had been a better husband, then she wouldn’t be at risk of losing our child. I wasn’t sure about children, you know that, but seeing her in the hospital bleeding and then seeing the screen and hearing the heartbeat, it was so fucking incredible. I vowed every fucking day that I would be there for her if she could keep our baby. I had to go to her, Cam, I had to. She was alone and afraid she was going through yet another miscarriage. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone and experience that.”
Her shoulders tense, her breathing becoming uneven as she stares at me like I’ve grown three heads.
“Fuck. You.” She spits between clenched teeth. Her moods are giving me whiplash. I’m not sure what I said to anger her, but it’s clear that I have. “You left me alone!” she yells, jumping down from the table.
“I told you why, because no matter what, she didn’t deserve to experience that alone.”
“You left me alone to experience something horrific when I needed you!” she screams, pacing back and forth like a madwoman.
Shaking my head in confusion, I climb down from the table and step toward her. “Cam, what are you talking about?” My brows scrunch together.
“I was fifteen, Dean! You got me pregnant, then left me alone! So don't you fucking dare tell me I don't know what it's like to be alone in that situation.” Tears stream down her defeated face. My body stills, my blood running cold at her revelation.
Camille was pregnant. She was pregnant with my baby. Considering we don't have a living child together, I'm assuming she miscarried.
No wonder Karina being pregnant hurts her so much.
“Cam,” I whisper her name in a plea, opening my arms to her. She runs into my arms, wrapping her arms so tightly around me as she sobs into my chest, her body violently shaking from her sobbing. “I didn’t know, Cam, I didn’t fucking know.”
“I’ve gotta go.” She sniffles, pulling away from me. She wipes her snot and tears away with the back of her sleeve.
“Please, don’t go. Stay. We can keep talking.”
She shakes her head. “There’s nothing else we can say. We’re over, Dean. I shouldn’t have even come tonight, but I just needed to know why you left. Now I do, so I can move on.”
“Cam—” She cuts me off by holding up her hand.
“Don’t, Dean, just go home to your wife. This is goodbye.” She looks me right in the eye, and I believe everything she says. She’s telling me goodbye for good; she’s done with me. That’s it. We’re over regardless of what I say. “Declan is waiting for me, so I should hurry.” She looks behind me toward the parking lot, the black SUV parked there, a dark figure hidden behind the wheel that I hadn’t noticed before.
